“You should not go alone,” Flying Arrow protested. “I will go with you.”
“The chiefs put you in charge of this hunting party,” Great Bear reminded him. “You must return with it.”
“That is true,” Flying Arrow admitted. “Still, you should not go alone.”
“I will go with Grandfather,” Little Bear offered.
“Why of course,” Great Bear exclaimed. “I should have thought of that. Little Bear has proved himself dependable.”
None of the warriors offered a protest. If any of them thought a boy would be small help on so dangerous an errand, they didn’t say so. The party rode back into camp where Great Bear busied himself gathering the things they would take with them. When he had finished, there were only two small bundles.
“We can travel faster if we travel light,” he explained. “We will find our food as we need it.”
Despite their haste, the sun was almost overhead when they reached the trail again. Great Bear took the lead and Little Bear followed behind. They went rapidly, as whoever had stolen the horses had made no attempt to hide his trail. They had not gone far before Little Bear realized the trail was leading straight towards Buffalo Trap Canyon. He could see Grandfather was troubled because the trail was running so straight and was so well marked.
When they came to the stream that ran through the valley in front of the entrance to Buffalo Trap Canyon, Little Bear saw why Grandfather had been troubled by the plain trail. The trail led straight across the stream into the place where the grass had been burned off. Here it became a maze of criss-crossing tracks. Great Bear dismounted and carefully studied the marks. Little Bear jumped from his horse and looked, too. The tracks completely puzzled him.
“He led the horses in and out of the stream so that we wouldn’t know whether to look upstream or downstream for his trail,” Great Bear explained.
He led Little Bear along the trail upstream. There were many places where the horses had been led into the stream and back out again. They returned to the stream they had followed and went downstream. It was the same here. The horses had been led in and out of the water so many times it was impossible to tell whether they had finally gone upstream or down.
“He is clever,” Great Bear admitted grudgingly. “We shall have to search upstream and downstream to find which way he really went.”
Little Bear looked over the valley where yesterday’s fire had burned off the grass.
“Perhaps it wouldn’t make any difference whether he went upstream or downstream,” Little Bear suggested. “I think he would circle around and get on the trail the Pawnees made when they ran yesterday. He would think we couldn’t find his trail there.”
Great Bear gave him a surprised look.
“Very good,” he praised. “Of course that is what he would do. When we find the Pawnees’ trail, we shall find his, too.”
Where the fire had burned, it had covered all traces of the Pawnees’ tracks. But Great Bear judged the Pawnees would ride out of the path of the fire as quickly as possible. He led the way out of that valley and into the next one. The fire had burned over this one, too, but had not gone very high on the hills that formed the south boundary of it. Great Bear led the way in that direction.
Little Bear anxiously watched the sun. It was dropping to the ground rapidly. It seemed to be trying to hide its light so that they would have more trouble finding the Crow. From the time he and Great Bear had started on the trail, he had known they couldn’t find the horses before night. Still, he had hoped they could at least find the Pawnees’ trail before darkness fell. Suddenly Great Bear stopped his horse.
“Here is the Pawnee trail,” he pointed out. “The Crow didn’t ride along it here, but I think you are right. In the morning we shall find his trail, too.”
They rode across the next ridge of hills and down into another small valley. Here the grass was tall and a small spring gurgled up. Little Bear hobbled their horses while Grandfather got out cold meat for their supper.
“We’ll have no fire tonight,” Grandfather told him.
While they were eating, Grandfather explained to Little Bear that the Crow warrior must have seen the Sioux escape from the Pawnee trap. The Crow would know the Sioux would feel safe after the Pawnees had fled. He would guess they wouldn’t have a guard watching their horses. It would give him a good chance to make a raid.
“He would go towards the land of the setting sun, wouldn’t he?” Little Bear asked.
Grandfather nodded.
“He would circle around and get onto the Pawnees’ trail. He would follow it until he was sure we had given up trailing him. Then he would turn directly towards the land of the setting sun,” Great Bear judged.
As soon as he had finished eating, Little Bear rolled himself up in his buffalo robe and quickly fell asleep. He was awakened during the night by the sounds of the horses moving about. He sat up quickly. Then he remembered the horses were not used to hobbles. They were making so much noise because they were moving awkwardly. He rolled himself in his robe again and fell asleep.
Morning light was showing only faintly in the east when Grandfather awakened him. Little Bear rolled his robe into a bundle and tied it on his horse. He accepted the food Grandfather gave him and munched it as they rode towards the Pawnees’ trail. When they reached the trail, Grandfather rode to the left of it and motioned for Little Bear to ride to the right.
Little Bear would have liked to let his horse go racing along the trail. He was sure the Crow was speeding away with the stolen horses while they were following slowly, searching for his trail. But he knew they couldn’t find the Crow’s trail unless they went slowly. The farther they rode, the surer Little Bear became that his idea had been wrong. The Crow wouldn’t have circled that far before getting on the Pawnees’ trail. He looked across at Great Bear. How much farther would Grandfather ride before he gave up and turned back to search for the Crow’s trail at the stream?
Then Grandfather called to him softly. “Here’s where he rode into the Pawnees’ trail.”
Little Bear turned his horse to Grandfather’s side of the trail. The grass was bent down, and there were plain tracks where the rider had brought his horses into the trail. Grandfather dismounted and studied the tracks.
“One horse has a bad stone bruise,” he pointed out. “See how light the foot print is. That horse is limping.”
Little Bear dismounted and bent over the tracks. He could see that one hoof had not cut as deeply as the others.
“We should soon catch him,” he exclaimed.
“We have lost much time finding the trail,” Great Bear reminded him. “He is far ahead and today we must find game. Our food is gone.”
He smiled at Little Bear’s look of disappointment.
“Never fear,” he promised. “We will catch him and get our horses.”
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.
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.
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.
The light of the tiny fire Great Bear had kindled awakened Little Bear the next morning. Grandfather had meat cooked for their meal. As soon as they had finished eating, Great Bear cooked all of the meat that was left.
“When we get near the Crow, we won’t dare start a fire,” he explained.
They lost little time getting started. Great Bear packed the cooked meat in one bundle and tied it on his horse. The buffalo hide was added to Little Bear’s pack. They pushed their horses as fast as they dared. Little Bear watched the trail left by the Crow. He was disappointed to see it was getting no fresher. Their enemy was traveling as fast as they were.
Their rest at noon was brief. When they started on again, Little Bear noticed Grandfather was constantly looking towards the northwest. As the afternoon wore on, the old warrior showed more and more anxiety. Little Bear noticed a bank of rain clouds in the northwest, but it was odd for Great Bear to worry about so small a thing as a soaking by a rainstorm.
“Why do the clouds trouble you, Grandfather?” Little Bear asked.
“I have the feeling of bad weather,” Great Bear replied. “These canyons are dangerous places when Old-Man-of-the-Sky dumps much water.”
They had left the wide flat valleys and were riding through narrow canyons with steep sides. There were many openings leading into these canyons. Little Bear wondered if Grandfather could find his way if there were no trail to follow. Probably he could. He seemed to know where they were. Little Bear had been thinking how easy it would be for the Crow to hide his horse in one of the canyons leading from the one they were in. He could wait for them and easily ambush them. He hadn’t thought at all of the danger of a heavy rain sending water roaring down the narrow canyon. Now that Grandfather had mentioned his fears, Little Bear remembered tales of warriors who had been caught in sudden floods and drowned.
He heard the faint roll of distant thunder. Soon the sound came nearer and became an almost continuous rumble. Little Bear saw a fork of lightning streak across the clouds.
“We must get to higher ground,” Great Bear warned. “Watch for a way out of this canyon.”
They urged their horses to a faster pace. The sound of thunder was no longer a distant rumble, but had become a crashing roar. Old-Man-of-the-Sky was throwing his lightning bolts all around them. Great Bear halted at a place where it seemed it might be possible for the horses to climb the canyon wall. He jumped from his horse and grabbed the halter rope. It was a steep slope and the ground was loose, giving the horse poor footing. With Great Bear pulling at the rope, the horse slowly struggled up the bank. Little Bear waited until Great Bear had his horse halfway up before he started to follow. Both horses slipped and struggled, but slowly fought their way ahead.
At last they came to a wide shelf on the side of the hill. It didn’t appear to be a very safe place. Little Bear wondered how much rain it would take to loosen the ledge from the side of the cliff and send it crashing to the bottom of the canyon. They had no choice except to stay. The walls of the canyon above them were so steep that they couldn’t go any higher.
The rain started with a few scattered drops which soon became a pounding downpour. Both Little Bear and Grandfather grabbed their buffalo robes and pulled them around their shoulders as they crouched against the side of the cliff. Little Bear could hear the thunderbolts, which Old-Man-of-the-Sky was throwing at the earth, crashing and bouncing back. There was the mounting roar of the wind around them.
The horses had moved about the ledge, looking for grass. As the wind rose, they, too, crowded against the cliff for shelter. Little Bear thought he could hear another roar mounting above the roar of the wind. Great Bear crouched forward in order to hear better.
“It is a wall of water going down the canyon,” Great Bear guessed, shouting to make his voice heard.
“Will it be this high?” Little Bear tried to keep the fear out of his voice.
“We can only wait and see,” Grandfather answered.
The storm had shut out the light so quickly that it was almost dark. Little Bear crouched despairingly against the cliff. He felt above his head in the hope he could find rough places which could be used as steps out of the canyon. The wall was smooth and water running down it made it slippery. If the water in the canyon rose to their shelf, there was no way of escape.
He couldn’t talk to Great Bear. The thundering, crashing roar of water was so loud he couldn’t have made himself heard if he had leaned close to Great Bear’s ear and shouted. The rain began to slacken, but the roar of water in the canyon grew louder. Little Bear knew that even if the rain stopped at once, the water in the canyon might still rise to their shelf.
He waited for what seemed hours. The rain decreased until there was only a light drizzle falling. Little Bear’s muscles ached from sitting in his cramped position. At last he could stand it no longer. Slowly he got to his feet. Sharp pains ran up and down his arms and legs, but as he continued to move around, the pains soon left. Was the deafening roar of water in the canyon decreasing? He waited, listening. He saw Great Bear raise his head in a listening attitude. Slowly Grandfather got to his feet.
“The water is going down,” Great Bear shouted.
It was true. Only a few minutes earlier he couldn’t have heard Grandfather shout. The roar of rushing water lessened rapidly. In a short time the sound was no more than what a small river would have made.
Not until his fear of rising water had completely disappeared did Little Bear realize how uncomfortable he was. He was wet through and thoroughly chilled. He had to clamp his jaws tight to keep his teeth from chattering.
As the downpour of rain had lessened into a drizzle, it had grown lighter, but it was only the light of evening. Soon it would be pitch-dark again.
“We must find fuel and build a fire,” Great Bear warned.
There were no trees on the small shelf. Finding wood appeared to be a hopeless task. Darkness fell rapidly, adding to their difficulties. Little Bear searched to the right and Grandfather to the left. Little Bear found a small clump of brush and a few dead branches. He got down on his hands and knees and groped around, but could find no more. He carried the few he had found back to the cliff. Great Bear had been more fortunate. He had brought back a large, dead limb.
“There must be more wood where I found this branch,” Great Bear said. “It must have blown from a tree at the top of the cliff. When we get a fire started, we may be able to find more.”
They had a hard time starting a fire. The branch Great Bear had found seemed to be soaked almost entirely through. Great Bear took his knife and peeled away the outer part of the limb. When he had whittled to a part of the limb that was almost dry, he had Little Bear hold his robe to shield the shavings from the rain. Grandfather whittled off a good-sized pile of shavings and then cut a few thicker pieces of wood.
When he thought he had enough shavings to start a fire, Great Bear laid aside his knife and picked up flint and steel. He struck them together. A spark fell on the pile of shavings and immediately went out. Great Bear moved the shavings about, trying to get drier ones to the top of the pile. He struck another spark, but again it died without lighting the shavings.
“These shavings aren’t dry enough,” Great Bear declared. “I’ll have to get drier shavings.”
He took up his knife and cut into the branch in another place. Little Bear’s arms were aching from holding the heavy buffalo robe. Great Bear whittled carefully until he had another pile of shavings ready. He struck flint to steel. A spark dropped on the shavings and went out. He struck again. Another spark fell, smouldered a moment, and blazed up in a tiny flame. Great Bear slowly added shavings and, as the flame leaped up, put thicker pieces on the fire.
“You won’t need to hold the robe over it now,” he told Little Bear.
Thankfully Little Bear laid the buffalo robe on the ground. He would have liked to sit down and rest, but they needed more fuel. As Great Bear slowly built up the fire, Little Bear started out to find more wood. The tiny fire gave little light. Yet when Little Bear was some distance from the fire and turned to face it, he could see better. He found two more small limbs.
As soon as Great Bear had the fire burning well enough so that he dared leave it, both of them went back and searched. In the darkness they had to move carefully for fear they would slip over the edge of the cliff. Although they searched carefully, they found only two small handfuls of wood. By the time they returned to the fire, the rain had stopped.
“We’ll dry our robes first,” Great Bear decided.
He set up some of the larger sticks to make a framework near the fire. They laid the robes over the framework. When the robes were dry, they removed their clothes, wrapped themselves in the robes, and hung their clothes on the framework to dry.
It was not until he was comfortably warm that Little Bear realized how hungry he was. He found the package of meat they had brought with them. While they were eating, Little Bear noticed how their tiny fire made a flickering light on the canyon wall.
“Won’t our enemies be able to see this fire a great distance?” he asked anxiously.
“No,” Great Bear assured him. “There are hills high above us in every direction. Besides, anyone caught in this rain would be as busy trying to get dry as we are.”
It was then that a terrible thought struck Little Bear. “The rain washed away the Crow’s trail,” he exclaimed.
“Yes,” Grandfather agreed sadly. “Now we won’t be able to track him. We may as well start for the winter camp in the morning.”
“We can’t give up,” Little Bear protested, thinking of that roan colt he hoped to own when he returned Flying Arrow’s other horses. “We must be near the Crow.”
“Very likely we are near him,” Great Bear agreed, “but this land is made up of many small canyons like the ones we came through. How are we to find the Crow?”
“You said we are near the place of water-that-falls,” Little Bear said thoughtfully. “Let’s go there before we give up. Perhaps Spirit-of-Water-That-Falls will guide us to our enemy.”
“All of the spirits seem to work for our enemy,” Great Bear pointed out. “Yet it might be a gift would win the help of Spirit-of-Water-That-Falls. But what do we have to offer as a gift?”
“We could make him a present of the buffalo hide,” Little Bear suggested. “He should like a present of the hide of my first buffalo.”
“That would be a fine present indeed.” Great Bear smiled. “We shall take it to him tomorrow.”
Little Bear wrapped himself in his robe and fell into a fitful sleep. He dreamed that he was climbing up and down steep canyon walls while a splendid roan horse was leaping across the canyons. The horse seemed never to run off and leave him, but always stayed just the width of one canyon ahead of him.
The sun was just climbing over the hill to the east when Little Bear awoke. There was an unusual stillness about the camp. He sat up with a puzzled look. A glance at Great Bear’s robe showed part of the reason for the stillness. Great Bear was still asleep. Little Bear crawled silently out of his robe and looked around. The horses were gone!
Into Little Bear’s mind flashed a picture of Grandfather and him, trudging afoot that long, weary journey to the main Sioux camp. He went over to the spot where the horses had been standing. He felt some relief when he wasn’t able to find any moccasin tracks. If the horses had strayed off, he might be able to catch them.
The horses’ tracks led to the edge of the shelf and down the steep bank. There were great furrows plowed in the soft mud where the horses had set their feet and slid down. Little Bear went slipping and sliding down the trail the horses had made. When he got to the bottom of the canyon, he found a small stream of water was still running. He noticed the horses had stopped to drink from the muddy stream. He glanced back at the side of the canyon. The high water mark was far above his head. He and Grandfather would have been swept away by the torrent if they hadn’t climbed out of it when they did.
He had no trouble following the horses’ tracks. The animals’ hooves had left deep marks in the wet ground. Nevertheless he was pleased to find the two horses grazing on some bunches of grass that had not been covered with mud. Since he was sure the horses would not stray far, Little Bear started back to camp. He had trouble climbing up the slippery bank, but finally got back to the shelf. Great Bear was crawling out of his robe as Little Bear returned.
“Where are the horses?” Great Bear demanded anxiously.
“They are grazing in the canyon,” Little Bear explained.
“If we can find wood, we will build a fire,” Great Bear decided. “There is small danger anyone will see the smoke.”
They searched the place where they had found wood for last night’s fire. There were only a few small sticks they had missed in the darkness. Great Bear whittled these into fine shavings. After many failures, he finally managed to get a fire started. The damp wood didn’t make a very good fire, but it did give off some heat.
“How far is it to the place of tumbling waters?” Little Bear asked.
“Not far,” Grandfather answered. “We should be there by the time the sun is straight overhead.”
The trip towards the place of tumbling waters was slow and tiresome. Great Bear had lost all hope of recapturing the stolen horses. Little Bear, too, was greatly discouraged. Unless Spirit-of-Water-That-Falls told one of them in a dream how to find the trail, the Crow was almost sure to escape. At first Little Bear took some pleasure from the thought that the Crow might have been caught in the flood. It would be good to have the Great Spirit get rid of one enemy. Then he remembered that if the Crow were drowned in a flood, the horses would be, too, and the thought was less pleasant.
Great Bear’s horse plodded slowly along with Little Bear’s following. There was a heavy carpeting of grass in the canyon, but the flood had so soaked the ground that the horses sank deep. The sun was almost straight overhead when they came out of the canyon onto higher ground. Here the footing was more solid and the horses moved faster.
“Are we getting near, Grandfather?” Little Bear asked.
“It will take longer than I expected,” Grandfather admitted. “Still, we should be there before dark.”
After following high ground for a time, Great Bear turned his horse to the left. The ground sloped to the south, and soon Little Bear saw they were nearing a river. Grandfather led the way along the bank of the stream. For some time Little Bear had thought he heard a roaring sound like that of the night before. Now there could be no doubt of it. It was the roar of rushing water. He wondered anxiously why Great Bear didn’t turn towards higher land so that they could escape this flood.
“We are near the place of tumbling waters,” Great Bear explained, stopping his horse. “We will turn the horses loose to graze while we go ahead on foot.”
Little Bear looked about the place where they had stopped. He saw a small stream winding through a clump of willows and emptying into the river. Great Bear led the way along the bank of this stream. As they went ahead, the roar increased steadily. Little Bear kept a watch on all sides, half expecting Spirit-of-Water-That-Falls, or some other spirit, to step out and stop them. Little Bear was carrying the skin of the buffalo he had shot, and he was ready to drop it and run if a spirit appeared.
They rounded a clump of trees and came into view of the waterfall. Little Bear stopped to look. High above them the water dropped over a rocky ledge and came cascading down to a pool below. Part way down, a huge boulder split the sheet of water into two separate sprays. Both sprays fell into one large pool and churned the water up as though there were an evil spirit stirring it.
Great Bear had to lean close to Little Bear’s ear to make himself heard above the roar of the falling water.
“You go behind that fall,” he directed, pointing to the fall at the left. “Behind it you will find a place that is almost dry. Lay the buffalo skin near the water where the Spirit will be sure to find it. Then sit down and wait for a vision. I will go behind this one. If the Spirit sends you a vision, be sure to ask how we can get our Sioux horses back.”
Little Bear nodded. He went to a narrow place below the pool and jumped to the other side. He went slowly and fearfully towards the roaring falls. If he had been alone, he would have turned back. He wondered how he could possibly get through that sheet of falling water to get behind it. But as he came closer, he saw that the water spurted out a considerable distance from the bank. He could walk to one side and get behind the falls.
Behind the falls the roar of water was not nearly so loud. Little Bear took the buffalo skin and carefully stretched it out near the falling water. There was a fine mist spraying upon him, but when he moved back near the bank, the spray no longer hit him. He found a large boulder where he could sit with his back against the wall. He held himself motionless, waiting for a visit from Spirit-of-Water-That-Falls.
He went slowly and fearfully towards the roaring falls
He went slowly and fearfully towards the roaring falls