The blue sky stretched over and away from the green bean field, seemingly all the way to the ends of the earth. It was a medicine sky, and as Calling Crow worked with two other men, he knew something bad was coming. A small fire crackled around the already-narrowed base of a tree they were felling as they chopped away the brittle, blackened wood with their stone axes. Calling Crow was the tallest of the three, muscled and slender. He paused in his chopping and glanced back at the sky.

The tree was still as big around as a fat old man, and he knew this job would take them most of the day. He removed the short mantle of woven bark which covered just the upper part of his body. Now, like the other two braves, he wore only a breechclout of deerskin held in place by a leather girdle. His pleasing, oval face was copper-colored like a leaf in autumn, and he had high cheeks and a full, proud nose. He picked up the axe and chopped powerfully at the tree. The largest of the other two braves, Sun Watcher, knelt as he used his axe to heap glowing embers up and against the trunk. Birdfoot, a small thin brave, swung tiredly at the tree, breaking off a piece with a clinking sound. His intense face was blackened here and there with soot.

Calling Crow noticed something moving in the distance and put down his axe. With brown eyes the color of a pool of cedar water, he stared at the far-off tree line. A solitary figure was approaching, running very fast.

Both young men turned to Calling Crow after a while. The runner had momentarily disappeared behind a distant sand dune.

"What is it?" said Sun Watcher.

"A runner is coming," said Calling Crow. A moment later the figure crested the dune moving so fast they all immediately grabbed their clubs, looking to see if he was being chased. He was not, being instead in a great state of excitement. He tried to shout and lost his footing, tumbling and throwing up a spray of sand. He rolled into a heap as the others ran up to him. It was Calling Crow's cousin, Runs Like Deer. He got to his knees, coughing as he fought for breath.

Calling Crow clapped him on the back. "Cousin, what is it? What have you to tell us?"

"Hurry," said Runs Like Deer between gasps, "it is the men from the heavens, come down in their cloudboats!" He got to his feet and staggered back up the dune.

Calling Crow, Sun Watcher, and Birdfoot looked at each other for a moment and then went back to the tree to get their bows. They followed Runs Like Deer up the dune.

Only a handful of villagers had ever seen the men from the heavens in their beautiful cloudboats. It was said that they roamed the big water in search of newly dead souls to take to the land of the dead.

A half hour later Calling Crow, Sun Watcher, and Birdfoot gasped for breath as they reached the top of the bluff. They found a swarm of little ones, boys mostly, looking out to sea. Their shouting pierced the air like gull cries as they jumped and pointed. A somber-faced old man and woman knelt facing the sea as they prayed.

Calling Crow climbed to a higher vantage and looked out. He could not believe what he saw. Out on the sea at a great distance, two white clouds had detached themselves from the blue heavens and now sat on the waters. As the warm rays of the sun burned into his face, a chill went through him. There was no doubt that this was a sign, but what did it mean?

Calling Crow watched a boy put an arrow to his bow. His arm muscles bulged as he pulled the feathered shaft back to his cheek. Calling Crow frowned at the other boys watching expectantly. They should know by now that even if an arrow could reach the distant cloudboats, it would only pass harmlessly through them, for they were from the spirit world.

The boy released his arrow, and it arced out a good distance and fell into the sea beyond the rocks. Undaunted, he lay on his back, and using his legs to hold his bow, launched another arrow. It too fell woefully short. Disappointed, the crowd of boys again fixed their attention on the distant cloudboats. A mild seaward breeze started up behind them as Runs Like Deer came over to stand beside Calling Crow. Together they watched the two white shapes in silence.

"I think they're moving," said Runs Like Deer.

Calling Crow strained his eyes and detected the ships closing the distance to the dark point of land jutting out on the periphery of his vision. What did these things bode for his people? A huge cloud passed overhead, and the sea turned the wintry color of dead leaves. Smoke reached Calling Crow's nostrils. He turned to see two boys on their haunches, blowing a handful of smoking kindling into flame to call the people from heaven. Calling Crow ran over. "No," he said angrily as he kicked the flames out. "We must not call them until the Council of Old Men has been consulted."

The boys glowered at Calling Crow, and he glared back at them.

"Go away!"

The boys walked off, and Calling Crow turned and looked back out to sea. The cloudboats had disappeared, but he could not take his eyes off the sea. What were those things? The sight of them caused a great fear and sadness in his heart. He said nothing to the others, and after a while they wandered off. He sat in the sand and stared out at the waters. Despite the warmness of the day, he shivered. The sea often had that effect on him, ever since it had taken his father. Back when he was a boy, his father had gone out fishing with some other men when a storm suddenly came up. Calling Crow remembered running to the beach, crying as the wind lashed his face and lightning lit the angry sky. The next morning the empty canoe had washed up on the beach and his father and the other man had never been found.