When Little Bear awoke the next morning, Grandfather was just getting
up. Little Bear rolled over and lifted his head for a look out from the
lean-to. Snow was still swirling in the air. It had drifted over the
pile of wood and up near the fire. Parts of the two large branches Great
Bear had put on the fire were still there, but the fire itself seemed to
be out.
Great Bear went over to the fire. He tilted one of the pieces of wood up
and blew against the charred end. Smoke began to curl from that end, and
soon a blaze flamed up. Great Bear went to the wood pile. He brushed
some of the snow away and drew some small branches from the bottom of
the pile. He placed the small branches against the charred end of the
wood and again blew on it. A flame leaped up, caught the small branches,
and in a moment the fire was blazing cheerfully. Little Bear crawled out
of his buffalo robe and stood beside the fire.
“I’ll see about our horses,” he offered.
He stepped away from the shelter and faced directly into the wind.
Hard-driven snowflakes pelted his face. He could scarcely move forward.
By every small shrub there was a drift of loose snow through which he
had to wallow. The strong wind drew the breath from his lungs so that he
often had to stop and turn his back. When he got near the hills at the
north end of the valley, the snow was deeper, but the wind hit him with
less force.
Little Bear found the horses standing at the foot of the hills. They
were huddled together with their heads pointing away from the wind. The
grass was covered with deep snow drifts, but Little Bear knew the horses
wouldn’t starve. When the animals got hungry, they would paw through the
loose snow to the grass.
The trip back to camp was much easier. The wind shoved Little Bear
forward, and he could see far enough ahead to avoid the deepest drifts.
“How are the horses?” Great Bear asked.
“They’re near some steep hills to the north,” Little Bear replied. “The
hills protect them from the wind.”
“They’ll be all right until we get back,” Great Bear said.
“Isn’t there danger a mountain lion might kill some of them?” Little
Bear wondered. “I have heard warriors tell of mountain lions attacking
horses after a storm.”
“It has happened,” Grandfather agreed, “but usually only after a storm
has lasted several days. There will be no danger before we get back.”
They ate the food Great Bear had cooked. When they had finished, he
cooked more and made two small bundles of it. One he gave to Little
Bear, and the other he kept himself. Great Bear stood for a long time
looking at the buffalo robes.
“Why are you looking at our robes?” Little Bear asked.
“I am trying to decide whether or not we should take them with us,”
Great Bear explained.
Little Bear thought of the drifts of loose snow through which he had
waded on his way to look at the horses.
“They would make a heavy pack to carry through loose snow,” he
protested.
“They would.” Great Bear nodded. “And yet, if we are delayed in the
storm, they would save us much suffering.”
At last he made up his mind.
“We shall leave them,” he decided.
They gathered more wood and piled it near the lean-to. It took some time
to find a large log to hold fire. Little Bear finally found one under a
large tree. Together he and Grandfather dragged it to the fire and
rolled it onto the coals.
“It will hold fire until we get back,” Great Bear stated.
Great Bear led the way from camp. He went directly west. As soon as the
two of them stepped from behind the sheltering trees, the wind hit them
with full fury. Snow pelted their faces so that they had to bend forward
and walk with eyes squinted. The nearer they came to the base of the
hills, the deeper the snow became. Their progress was painfully slow.
They had not gone far through the deeper drifts when Great Bear turned
his back to the wind and stopped to rest.
“I’ll take a turn at breaking trail,” Little Bear offered.
“All right,” Great Bear assented.
Little Bear stepped past his grandfather and began to plow through the
loose snow. At every step the drifts were deeper. They hadn’t gone many
paces when Little Bear had to stop to rest. Grandfather stepped past him
and took the lead again. Thus, taking turns at breaking a path, they
slowly moved forward. As they started up the slope, they found the
drifts were not so deep. Halfway up the hill there was scarcely any snow
at all.
[Illustration]
While the snow was not as deep when they got higher, the wind hit them
with greater force. The snow swirled around them until Little Bear
wondered how Grandfather could find his way. If there were any
landmarks, drifting snow hid them. Still Grandfather moved forward as
surely as though he were following a marked trail.
By the time they reached the top of the hill, both of them were gasping
for breath. They tramped down the snow in the next drift they came to
and crouched down to rest. Out of reach of the wind they were almost
comfortable. Little Bear dreaded starting again, but if they were to
reach the Crow’s camp and get back before dark, they couldn’t lose much
time.
When they started on again, they were on a flat plateau at the top of
the hill. Here they felt the full force of the wind. However, there was
an advantage, too. The wind had swept most of the snow away and walking
was easier. They stopped only once while crossing the plateau. The wind
bit through their clothes so that they were quickly chilled.
Great Bear led the way into another valley. Here the drifts were deep
and walking was difficult. Little Bear thought with dread of another
hill ahead of them. He wondered if he could climb it. He was so tired it
seemed every step must be his last. Yet he followed without protest
until Great Bear halted behind a clump of trees.
They tramped out another shelter in the loose snow and sank down to
rest. Great Bear opened one of the packages of food. Little Bear had
thought he was too tired to eat, but the food tasted surprisingly good.
He felt much better after he had eaten and had rested a few minutes.
“If I have judged correctly,” Great Bear told him, “our enemy is camped
in the next canyon. It is a narrow one with the only entrance from the
south.”
“Shall we have to take the horses out that entrance?” Little Bear asked.
“It is the only way,” Great Bear replied. “We must use great care so
that the Crow does not see nor hear us. He could easily ambush us at the
entrance.”
“Do we go in through that entrance?” Little Bear wondered.
“It is the easiest way,” Great Bear pointed out. “Besides, we want to
make sure the Crow isn’t camped near it.”
Rest and food had so completely restored Little Bear that he waited
impatiently for Grandfather to start. Great Bear smiled at his
impatience.
“This will be our last rest until we are back in our own camp,” he
warned.
At last Great Bear started on. He led the way to the hills at the west
side of the valley and there turned south. Despite deep snow Grandfather
and Little Bear moved rapidly. The wind at their backs pushed them
along. They kept close to the hills until there was an opening to the
west. Here they again turned west. Now they had a steep hill protecting
them from the wind. The hill was so high and steep that snow did not
fall at its base. That left a bare path for the two Sioux to follow. In
a short time they came to the end of the hill. There was an opening
leading north. Great Bear stopped.
“This is the entrance to the canyon,” he pointed out. “We will go
slowly. This canyon widens after a short distance. It will be safest for
us to stay at the east side and follow that side to the north end. I am
sure the horses will be at that end.”
“And the Crow?” Little Bear wondered.
“I hope he has made camp behind trees on the west side,” Great Bear
responded. “It would be the best place for a camp. If I am right, we can
get to the horses without the Crow’s seeing us.”
“He is our enemy,” Little Bear reminded his grandfather. “Perhaps we
should hunt the Crow before we take the horses.”
Great Bear hesitated, but finally shook his head.
“It is what I should like to do,” he admitted, “but we can’t take the
time. If I am wrong and he is not in this canyon, we shall scarcely have
time to get back to our camp before dark.”
To follow Grandfather’s plan, they had to turn directly into the wind.
It whistled through the narrow entrance to the canyon with such force
they could hardly move ahead. They struggled ahead for a long time
before the canyon widened and they changed their direction. Along the
east edge of the canyon the snow was piled high. Again Little Bear
alternated with his grandfather at the job of breaking trail.
The worst came when they turned straight north into the face of the
wind. Either the strong wind or the deep snow would have made walking a
difficult task. The two together made it almost impossible. Slowly
Grandfather and Little Bear fought their way forward. At last they
reached the hills which formed the north rim of the canyon. Little Bear
was breaking trail. He turned west. Now he could go faster. The high
hills broke the force of the wind and there was no snow close to the
base of the cliffs.
“Go slowly,” Grandfather warned. “The Crow may be camped east of the
horses.”
Little Bear nodded. He knew it would be easy to stumble into the Crow’s
camp. He came to a sudden stop and held up his hand warningly.
“There are the horses,” he exclaimed.
Great Bear stepped up beside Little Bear to get a better look.
“We must go carefully,” Great Bear warned. “The Crow may be camped near
his horses.”
Great Bear took the lead. He led the way out into the canyon away from
the shelter of the cliffs. In the deep snow it would have been
impossible for them to move swiftly. To the impatient Little Bear, it
seemed they were scarcely moving at all. But, at last, they were beside
the horses. Little Bear counted ten horses. So not only would he and
Grandfather get back the horses the Crow had stolen from the Sioux, but
they would get some of the Crow’s horses, too.
Grandfather and Little Bear had mapped their plans when they stopped to
rest. Now both of them acted as they had agreed. Great Bear went to his
own buffalo horse. He mounted and rode a few paces along the trail he
and Little Bear had made. Little Bear went to one of the horses that had
belonged to Flying Arrow. He climbed onto it and turned it towards the
rear of the herd. The horse hung its head low and refused to move.
Desperately Little Bear drummed his heels against the horse’s side until
it finally started. Little Bear had to fight the horse all of the way,
but finally got it to the rear of the herd.
Blowing snow almost hid Great Bear from sight where he was waiting ahead
of the herd. He was watching Little Bear. As soon as he saw Little Bear
was in place, Great Bear started. At first the herd was unwilling to
move from its sheltered place. Little Bear crowded his horse towards the
herd. The other horses hesitated, but finally started to follow
Grandfather.
One horse broke from the herd and tried to turn back. Little Bear’s
horse, which had been so reluctant to move before, suddenly darted
aside. It got in front of the runaway horse and turned it back with the
rest of the herd. Two other horses tried to break from the herd, but
Little Bear’s horse was too quick for them. Once aroused, it seemed to
enjoy keeping the other horses in line. The entire herd finally settled
into line following Great Bear.
“We have done it,” Little Bear gloated to himself. “We have really
punished that Crow. He will have to walk to the Crows’ winter camp.”
Little Bear had to stifle the triumphant Sioux war cry that welled up in
his throat. The next moment he was struck a terrific blow on his left
shoulder. The force of the blow spun him off his horse, headlong into
the deep snow. He lay dazed, half choked by snow in his nose and mouth.
He put his right hand to his shoulder. His shirt was badly torn and
blood was running down his arm. He forced his fingers to feel the wound.
It was deep, but not deep enough to cripple his arm. He flexed the
fingers of his left hand. Although it hurt badly, he could move them.
After his first dazed fright, Little Bear regained control of himself.
He knew what had happened. The Crow had seen him. While Little Bear was
intent on driving the horses, the Crow had sneaked up on him and shot.
If it had not been for snow and wind, the arrow would have struck Little
Bear’s heart.
Little Bear’s horse had stopped and was standing with head hanging low.
Little Bear could look under the horse in the direction from which the
arrow had come. He could see no sign of the Crow. Little Bear waited,
puzzled by the lack of movement. Suddenly it dawned upon him what plan
the Crow would follow.
Little Bear got to his feet, putting his bow in his left hand. There was
a sharp pain in his shoulder when he grasped the bow firmly, but he
forced his fingers to hold it. With his right hand he fitted an arrow to
the bowstring. He stepped around his horse. His guess had been right.
The Crow had slipped ahead and was taking aim at Great Bear. Great Bear
had sensed something was wrong. He had stopped his horse and was turning
his head to look back at the herd of horses. His startled glance fell on
the Crow.
Great Bear reached for his bow, but he didn’t have a chance. The Crow’s
arrow was pointed straight at him. The Crow’s movements were deliberate.
He was certain he had plenty of time, and he was making sure his first
arrow got rid of his enemy. Hurriedly Little Bear brought up his bow. He
had no time to take aim. He pulled the bowstring tight and let the arrow
fly. The arrow struck the Crow a glancing blow along his arm and knocked
the warrior’s bow out of his hand.
The Crow bent forward quickly to pick up his bow, but his left hand
couldn’t grasp it. Great Bear swung his horse to face the Crow. Little
Bear stepped forward, fitting another arrow to his bow. When the Crow
realized his arm was so injured that he couldn’t use his bow, he
straightened up. He stood with his injured arm hanging at his side and
turned to face Great Bear.
[Illustration]
Great Bear rode slowly towards the Crow. The warrior stood unflinchingly
watching his enemy. Great Bear took careful aim. Still the Crow stood
facing him. Little Bear came to a halt and watched in amazement.
“That Crow is as brave as a Sioux,” he admitted to himself admiringly
and was sorry it was necessary to kill so brave an enemy.
At the last moment Great Bear swerved his horse aside and rode past the
Crow. If his plan had been to torment the Crow into showing fear, it
failed. The Crow stood as motionless as a wood carving.
Great Bear completed a circle and for the second time rode at the Crow.
Little Bear was ashamed of his own urge to cry out for Grandfather to
spare the warrior. The Crow was his enemy. He had stolen Sioux horses
and shot at Little Bear. The Crow deserved to die, and yet it took all
of Little Bear’s will power to force his eyes to watch the scene. The
Crow faced Great Bear without a sign of fear. Great Bear stopped his
horse a few paces from the warrior. He drew his bowstring taut and took
careful aim. Then slowly he lowered his bow. Great Bear raised his right
hand in the sign of peace. He untied the package of food from his belt
and dropped it for the Crow. Then he turned his horse and rode back to
the head of the herd.
Little Bear watched unbelievingly. He kept an arrow pointed at the Crow,
ready in case of treachery. The Crow picked up the package of food and,
with one hand, awkwardly knotted it to his belt. Without another look
towards Grandfather and Little Bear, the Crow turned and started away.
Little Bear climbed back onto his horse. As there was no longer any need
to avoid the Crow, Great Bear turned off the trail and led the way
directly towards the canyon entrance. The snow was not so deep in the
middle of the canyon, and Grandfather was able to set a faster pace.
Little Bear could feel blood oozing from his wound. It hurt badly, but
he gave no sign.
The struggle back to camp in the swirling snow was a blur in Little
Bear’s mind. His horse kept the unwilling herd following Great Bear.
Little Bear used all his remaining strength to cling to his horse’s
back. It seemed to him he had been riding for hours by the time
Grandfather halted in front of the lean-to. Little Bear slid awkwardly
from his horse and staggered to the shelter. He sprawled out on his
buffalo robe.
Grandfather came hurrying anxiously back to the lean-to. He bent over
Little Bear.
“You are wounded,” he exclaimed angrily. “I should have killed that
Crow.”
“He was too brave,” Little Bear murmured and fell asleep.