Grandfather’s words warned Little Bear the chase was going to be much
longer than they had planned. If there were hope of catching the thief
before another sunrise, Grandfather wouldn’t stop to find food. He began
to worry that a storm might erase the trail, or that the warrior would
get back to the land of the Crows, where he would have friends to help
him and it would be too dangerous for them to follow.
Now that they were sure they were on the trail of the Crow, Grandfather
increased the pace to an easy lope. It was a pace the horses could keep
up all day. It would carry them over a great distance. The Pawnees’
trail led almost due west so that there was no need to watch for a place
where the Crow had left it. He was sure to stay on it as long as it went
in that direction. The sun was almost straight overhead when they came
to a small stream. Both Grandfather and Little Bear knelt and drank the
clear, cool water. They let the horses drink their fill, too.
Grandfather and Little Bear sprawled in the sun while they allowed the
horses to graze. Little Bear was very hungry, but he made no complaint.
“This afternoon we will get a buffalo,” Great Bear announced.
“Food will be good,” Little Bear agreed.
[Illustration]
After a short rest, they started on the trail again. It led them across
a shallow, sandy stream, wider than any they had crossed before. They
had ridden about an hour after crossing the stream when the trail turned
sharply to the left. Great Bear kept his horse to the right side of the
trail and motioned for Little Bear to follow behind him. Both watched to
the right. It was certain the Crow would not follow the trail far in
this direction, and when he turned off, he would turn to the right and
go west. After a time Great Bear slowed his horse to a walk.
“He wouldn’t have followed the Pawnees’ trail much farther,” Grandfather
said uneasily. “We must be sure we don’t lose his trail. If we do, we’ll
lose more time.”
Both of them watched the trail carefully. The grass on both sides was
tall and dry. Five or six horses, turning out of the trail, would leave
a track that could easily be seen. Yet they went on and on without
finding a sign that any horses had turned out of the trail. Finally
Great Bear stopped his horse and dismounted. He bent over the trail and
studied it carefully.
“There is no sign of a limping horse,” he said.
“The warrior could have the lame horse at the front of the line so that
the others would walk over his tracks and hide them,” Little Bear
suggested.
“He could,” Great Bear agreed, “but I don’t think he would. He’s
probably sure no one is following him and the lame horse would travel
better at the end of the line.”
“Grandfather,” Little Bear exclaimed in dismay. “Do you remember that
wide, sandy stream we crossed far back there?”
Little Bear almost had to laugh at the disappointed look on Great Bear’s
face.
“Of course,” Great Bear moaned. “The stream is wide enough so that the
Crow could lead his horses up it and hide his trail. That is where he
turned off.”
He and Little Bear turned their horses back the way they had come. Now
they rode at a headlong pace, as though trying to recapture the time
they had lost. When they came to the river, Great Bear turned upstream.
Both Grandfather and Little Bear rode slowly along the bank, watching
for the place where the Crow had left the stream. They had gone so far
that Little Bear was wondering if they had been wrong, when Grandfather
stopped his horse and pointed. There was the trail the horses had left
as the Crow brought them out of the water.
The plainly marked trail led straight west. No one could have hidden a
trail made by several horses in that dry grass.
“It is nearing time for the sun to go to rest,” Grandfather said after
they had followed the trail some distance. “We must get a buffalo for
our food.”
Great Bear kept a careful watch to each side. Little Bear was puzzled by
the old warrior’s carefulness. Finally Great Bear stopped by a
tree-lined stream.
“I have been watching for signs of buffalo,” Great Bear explained. “I am
sure there are buffalo near. You gather wood while I go to the top of
that hill to the north.”
Great Bear left his horse with Little Bear and set off on foot for the
top of the hill. While Grandfather was gone, Little Bear searched for
wood. He picked up only sticks which were thoroughly dry. These would
make a hot fire, but would give off very little smoke or flame. An enemy
would have to be close to find a fire built with such wood.
Great Bear soon returned.
“There is a big herd of buffalo in the valley across the hill,” he told
Little Bear, “but I am afraid we don’t dare shoot one of them.”
“Why?” Little Bear asked anxiously.
“The hills to the north of the herd are high and steep,” Great Bear
explained. “When we ride towards the herd, the buffaloes will run to the
west. If they run far, their dust and noise will warn the Crow someone
is following him.”
“Couldn’t we ride to the west and come towards the herd from that
direction?” Little Bear suggested.
“Of course not,” Great Bear answered sharply. “The wind blows from that
direction. The buffaloes would catch our scent long before we were near
them.”
Little Bear was ashamed of the question he had asked. He should have
remembered the wind would carry the scent of anyone to the west of the
herd.
“I could ride to the setting sun and start the buffaloes running this
way,” Little Bear proposed. “You could ride from this direction and
shoot a buffalo for us.”
“That plan might work,” Grandfather agreed. “However, the one riding
from the west would need to know how close he dared ride and how fast.
Only an experienced hunter would know that.”
“Perhaps you could circle the herd and I could shoot a buffalo for us,”
Little Bear suggested.
“It is our best chance,” Great Bear agreed. “We shall try it.”
Grandfather gave Little Bear careful instructions as to how long he
should wait before crossing the hill and just how he was to shoot a
buffalo when he rode into the herd.
“Shoot the first fat calf you can,” Great Bear instructed. “Then wait
for me.”
After Grandfather had left to circle to the west of the herd, Little
Bear checked his arrows. Two of them were not quite true. These he laid
near the wood he had gathered for the fire. Then he mounted his horse
and rode halfway up the hill. He dismounted and tied his horse to a
shrub.
On foot, Little Bear went forward slowly and carefully. Halfway from his
horse to the top of the hill, he dropped to his hands and knees and
crawled forward. Near the top of the hill he lay on his stomach and
squirmed ahead. When he reached the top of the hill, he slowly raised
his head and looked into the valley below him.
It was a much larger valley than any they had crossed that day. The hill
on which he was lying sloped gently down to the valley floor. There were
so many buffaloes in the valley that trying to count them would be like
trying to count the sands on a river bank. Many of the buffaloes were
grazing. A few young ones were scuffling. Not far from Little Bear an
old bull buffalo was rolling on the ground. There were many buffalo cows
with calves at their sides. Little Bear picked out one large, fat calf
as the one he would shoot for their food.
[Illustration]
He waited patiently for the signs Great Bear had told him the buffaloes
would make when they caught the first faint trace of man scent. He saw a
cow, far out in the valley, lift her head and sniff to the west. Another
cow did the same. This was the sign they were catching a trace of Great
Bear’s scent. Little Bear slid back a few paces, jumped up, and ran to
his horse.
Little Bear’s horse pulled excitedly at its rope. Grandfather had used
that horse as his buffalo-hunting horse before he gave it to Little
Bear. It had caught the scent of buffalo and was as excited about taking
part in the chase as Little Bear was. The moment Little Bear untied the
horse and jumped on its back, it sped off like an arrow shot from a bow.
When horse and rider charged over the hill, the bull buffalo that had
been rolling on the ground scrambled awkwardly to his feet. The
buffaloes nearest Little Bear pushed forward. In a matter of moments the
whole herd was running. The cows and calves moved to the front while the
bulls ran clumsily at the rear of the herd.
Little Bear spied the calf he had selected. By the pressure of his knees
against the horse’s side, he guided it towards the calf. Two bulls,
running side by side, were in the way. The horse raced straight towards
them. The bulls floundered aside and the horse sped between them.
Nearer and nearer to the calf the racing horse carried its rider. Little
Bear fixed an arrow to his bow. As his horse brought him alongside of
the calf, Little Bear let the arrow fly. It struck the calf in the
foreleg, but the calf didn’t even waver in its stride. Little Bear
fitted another arrow to his bow. He pressed his knees tightly against
the horse’s side and leaned far over towards the calf. He took careful
aim for the spot just back of the calf’s foreleg, as Great Bear had told
him to do. He drew the bow string back with all of his strength and let
the arrow fly. It flew straight to the mark. The calf lunged forward and
fell to the ground.
Little Bear pulled his excited horse to a stop and turned back to the
calf. The buffaloes that had been behind swerved to the side and raced
on. Little Bear saw the herd veer from the west and make for the steep
hills at the north end of the valley. After a time Great Bear rode into
sight from the west.
The buffaloes soon slowed their speed. Little Bear had heard warriors
tell that buffaloes couldn’t see very far. This herd soon proved the
truth of the warriors’ statement. As soon as the buffaloes had run far
enough to lose Great Bear’s scent, they stopped. The plan had worked.
Even if the buffalo herd was near the Crow who had stolen the Sioux
horses, it had not run far enough to alarm him.
Grandfather pulled his horse to a stop beside Little Bear. He glanced
down at the buffalo calf.
“Good,” he praised. “Not many hunters are able to get their first
buffalo with only two arrows.”
Little Bear helped his grandfather skin and butcher the buffalo. Despite
the fact that they wanted to travel light, Great Bear insisted that they
save the buffalo hide.
“A hunter should save the hide of his first buffalo,” he said.
They returned to the spot they had selected for their camp. Great Bear
examined the sticks Little Bear had collected for their fire. He nodded
approval. He was very careful as he started the fire to make sure he
didn’t put too much fuel on at once. He wanted no tell-tale smoke rising
from the flames. He did so well that Little Bear could see no smoke
rising from the fire when he was only a few paces away.
“Grandfather?” Little Bear questioned as they were eating their supper.
“If we get Flying Arrow’s horses back for him, would it be right for me
to accept the roan colt as a reward?”
“It would be.” Grandfather nodded. “The Sioux law is that horses which
have been stolen and are not recovered within three days belong to
whoever recaptures them later.”
“When we find that Crow,” Little Bear went on, “will you let me help
recapture the horses?”
“You are anxious to have that roan colt, aren’t you?” Great Bear smiled.
“He will grow up to be a fine horse,” Little Bear replied. “Will you let
me help capture the horses?”
“No matter which of us takes the horses,” Great Bear explained, “they
will belong equally to each of us. Each is doing his part to get them.”
They sat together in silence as the fire died down. Little Bear was
thinking of what a good horse he could train that roan colt to be. The
horse he had now was the best trained in the whole Sioux camp, and it
had been almost too old to train when Grandfather gave it to him. If he
had the colt to train, he could do still better.
“The Great Spirit does not help us much,” Great Bear said after they had
sat in silence for some time.
“The Crow has strong medicine,” Little Bear agreed. “His trail is hard
to follow.”
“We are nearing the place of water-that-falls,” Great Bear told him. “If
we are not near the Crow tomorrow when the sun sinks, we will turn
aside. I shall go to the falls and listen for a message from the Great
Spirit.”
“May I try to get a message from the Great Spirit, too?” Little Bear
requested. “I should like to find medicine which will make sure that I
get the roan colt.”
“You may try for a vision,” Great Bear agreed.
“Spirit-of-Water-That-Falls may have a message for you. Now go to sleep.
In the morning we start early.”
Obediently Little Bear curled up in his robe. The last thing he saw as
he pulled the robe over his head was the hide of the buffalo he had
shot. Grandfather had hung it over a large bush. Little Bear dropped off
to sleep, dreaming he was mounted on a big roan horse and chasing the
whole Crow tribe ahead of him.