Perhaps it was because he was more than a little frightened at being there, or because it was all new and wonderful that he was alert and wide-awake. In all of the stories Grandfather and other warriors had told him of speaking with spirits, the warriors had always been asleep when the spirits appeared. Little Bear tried closing his eyes, but that did no good. He thought of getting up and walking around, but there was scarcely enough room behind the falls.
He noticed mud swallows were darting about behind the sheet of falling water. The small birds would light on the ground, dip their beaks in the mud, and fly high up on the face of the cliff. They never flew in a straight course, but always zig-zagged irregularly. Since he had nothing better to do and needed practice with his bow, Little Bear began to shoot at the darting birds. They flew so swiftly and darted so unexpectedly that he couldn’t hit any of them. He had shot his fifth arrow when suddenly a large warrior, mounted on a beautiful roan horse, rode out of the falls straight towards him. Little Bear knew at once this was Spirit-of-Water-That-Falls coming to visit him.
“I see you like my little birds,” the Spirit said in a rumbling voice.
Little Bear could find no words to answer him.
“I know you are here because a Crow warrior has stolen horses from your hunting party,” the Spirit went on. “You want to get them back so that your grandfather will have a good buffalo hunting horse and you can trade for a roan colt. You gave me a present. Come, I will show you how to get your horses.”
Little Bear got on the horse behind the Spirit and they rushed off towards the setting sun. They soon saw the Crow running ahead of them. They followed him through woods, across streams, and over rocky ground. Once they lost the Crow in a snowstorm. The wind blew the snow at them so hard that the Spirit and Little Bear had to get off and walk. They came upon the Crow again in a small canyon. He was scraping snow aside to make a place where he could build a fire.
“We can get the horses while he isn’t watching,” the Spirit said.
At that moment Little Bear woke up. He was still sitting on the rock behind the waterfall. He was cold, hungry, and bewildered. Had Spirit-of-Water-That-Falls shown him how to get their horses back, or was the whole adventure only a dream? Perhaps Grandfather could tell him. Little Bear gathered his arrows and stepped out from behind the waterfall. The sun had gone down and it was almost dark. Great Bear was waiting for him below the pool.
Little Bear jumped across the stream and joined his grandfather. Without a word Great Bear led the way back to their horses. Little Bear noticed Grandfather seemed even more discouraged and disturbed than when they had started for the falls. As he gathered wood for a fire, Little Bear became more worried, too. Probably he hadn’t had a message from the Spirit, but had only dreamed the whole thing.
“Did you get a message from Spirit-of-Water-That-Falls?” Grandfather asked as they were eating.
Little Bear told him what had happened. “Was it a message or only a dream, Grandfather?”
“I don’t know,” Great Bear answered sadly. “I, too, had a vision. All I saw was that we were going towards the land of the setting sun.”
Suddenly his face lighted up.
“Of course it is a message.” Great Bear gasped. “The Crow is going towards the setting sun. We shall find his trail again.”
The next morning they were up early. The sun had not yet risen over the hill when they mounted and rode off. They rode out of the valley and then turned west. Instead of having Little Bear follow as before, Great Bear had him ride well to the left. Both of them constantly searched the ground for signs of their enemy’s trail. They were so intent on watching for signs of a trail that neither of them noticed that birds were no longer flying up, ahead of them. They would have ridden straight on if Little Bear’s horse hadn’t tossed its head and come to a stop.
“There is something ahead,” Great Bear warned in a low voice. “Quick, get into that clump of brush.”
They put their horses behind a small clump of brush growing on the hillside. The clump was too small to make a good hiding place, but anyone coming from the other side of the hill would have to get to the top of the hill before he could see them there.
“What do you think is over there?” Little Bear whispered as they tied their horses.
“It must be that Crow warrior we are hunting,” Great Bear guessed. “Probably he had to make a circle after the flood. He must be just ahead. We will scout to the top and see.”
They crouched low and slowly worked their way to the top of the hill. At the top Little Bear had to choke back a gasp of surprise. A party of at least twenty Pawnees was riding into the glade on the other side of the hill. If Little Bear’s horse hadn’t given the warning, the two Sioux would have ridden straight into that Pawnee war party without a chance of escape. Even now the danger was great. The Pawnees were sure to send scouts to the top of the hill. Grandfather and Little Bear must move quickly to have a chance of escaping.
Careful to make no sound they crawled back. As soon as they were far enough down the hill, they got to their feet and hurried to the horses. They jumped on their horses and started back the way they had come. Little Bear would have liked to kick his horse with his heels and send it flying, but Grandfather led the way at a walk. Although the ground was soft from the heavy rain, the sound of running horses would carry across the hill to the Pawnees.
Great Bear turned his horse towards a coulee which cut into the hillside for some distance. Little Bear kept a constant watch towards the top of the hill. He and Grandfather were almost to the coulee when he saw the head feathers of a Pawnee warrior rising from the other side of the hill.
“Run for it, Grandfather,” he whispered urgently, but at that moment the head feathers disappeared.
The Pawnee had turned back before he had reached a point high enough so that he could see them.
“He turned back,” Little Bear called softly.
No other Pawnee appeared before Great Bear led the way into the coulee. When Little Bear and his grandfather dismounted, the banks of the coulee were almost high enough to conceal the horses. Great Bear motioned for Little Bear to take the halter ropes and lead the horses down the coulee. Great Bear leaned against the bank and watched towards the top of the hill.
“Wait,” Great Bear ordered. “Two warriors are coming over the hill.”
Little Bear stopped. He crouched low and held the lead ropes firmly so that the horses could not toss their heads. The Pawnees would be sure to investigate any movement in the coulee.
“They turned back.” Great Bear spoke in relief.
Little Bear got to his feet and started forward again.
“Here comes another one,” Great Bear whispered warningly.
Little Bear crouched and waited. He saw Great Bear fit an arrow to his bow. Little Bear waited tensely. If the warrior came only a short distance over the hill, he would be able to see into the coulee. Great Bear could pick him off with an arrow, but the Pawnee’s horse would be sure to bolt back to the Pawnee camp. Chance of escaping was fading rapidly.
“He turned back.” Great Bear breathed a great sigh of relief. “We’ll go ahead now.”
Little Bear led the horses while Grandfather stayed behind to watch for other Pawnees. The coulee deepened rapidly until soon Little Bear and the horses were well hidden. As soon as Little Bear had the horses in the deeper part of the coulee, Great Bear joined him. They pushed through the coulee until it opened into a small valley. Here Great Bear called a halt.
“It will be better for us to wait here until the sun sets,” he decided.
“I believe those are the Pawnees who had our hunting party trapped,” Little Bear said as they waited. “I thought I recognized some of the horses.”
“I’m sure it is the same party,” Great Bear agreed.
“We ought to punish them,” Little Bear suggested.
There was a hint of a smile at the corners of Great Bear’s mouth.
“And how do you think two of us are to punish twenty Pawnee warriors?” he asked.
“We could capture some of their horses,” Little Bear proposed.
Grandfather remained thoughtfully silent for a long time.
“It might be done,” he agreed finally, “although it would be dangerous. Pawnee war parties usually hobble their horses and keep them near camp.”
“Then there will be no sentry watching the horses,” Little Bear pointed out.
“We shall try,” Great Bear agreed. “I shall try to think of a plan that will work.”
While Great Bear was trying to think of a plan, Little Bear was thinking, too. He remembered how easily the Crow had made off with the Sioux horses, but those horses had been across a hill from camp. The Pawnees would have their horses near their camp. Besides, the horses would be hobbled. The hobbles would have to be removed before the horses could be taken and that would add much to the danger of the attempt.
“I believe I have a plan,” Great Bear said. “When the Pawnees are asleep, we shall approach their horses from this side. That way the horses will be between us and the Pawnee camp. There will be less danger of our being seen. Above all, we must be careful not to excite the horses. The Pawnees will be sure to investigate any unusual sounds.”
As soon as the sun had gone down, and before darkness closed in, they started off. As usual Great Bear led the way. The path he chose followed the valley in a winding course to the west.
“We should be directly south of their camp now,” Great Bear said as he halted. “This is a good place to leave our horses.”
They tied their horses and started north on foot. Their way led up a gently sloping hill, which divided their valley from the one in which the Pawnees were camped. By the time Little Bear and his grandfather had reached the top of the hill, darkness had closed around them.
The Pawnees had selected a good spot for their camp. It was in the middle of a saucer-like valley. There were a few scattered trees in the valley, but not enough to offer hiding for anyone trying to sneak up on the camp. The Pawnees had eaten their supper and were lounging about a big campfire. Little Bear could see large bundles lying at the edge of the firelight. He knew those were bundles of meat wrapped in buffalo hides.
“They are foolishly brave.” Great Bear grunted. “They have killed buffalo on Sioux hunting grounds, and now they have a big campfire, as though they were in their own land.”
“We will teach them to stay off Sioux hunting grounds,” Little Bear whispered fiercely.
The two lay and watched the camp. The north wind was chilly, making the campfire look inviting. As Great Bear had planned, the Pawnee horses were south of the camp. He and Little Bear wouldn’t have to circle the Pawnee camp to get to the horses.
It seemed to Little Bear the warriors would never roll up in their blankets and go to sleep. The campfire died down to glowing embers. Finally the last Pawnee warrior rolled up in his blankets. Little Bear started to crawl forward, but Grandfather reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Wait,” Great Bear ordered. “Pawnees are sly.”
Little Bear waited impatiently. It would take a long time to crawl to those horses and still longer to untie hobbles and get away from the Pawnee camp. If he and Grandfather didn’t start soon, the sun would be up before they were out of the valley. Great Bear lay motionless, and in a moment Little Bear understood the wisdom of Grandfather’s caution. He saw a shadowy movement in the Pawnee camp. An ember in the dying fire broke and sent up a flame of light. In that light Little Bear saw a warrior crawl out of his blankets and start circling the herd of horses.
The warrior made a complete circuit of the herd. Sometimes he was hidden from view behind a horse or in its shadow, but at last Little Bear saw the warrior return to his blankets. Still Great Bear made no move to start towards the horses. After a time, another warrior left his blankets as the first one had done. It was so dark Little Bear couldn’t follow the warrior’s movements after he left the glow of the fire, but at last he saw that warrior complete his circuit and return to his blankets.
“Will they do that all night?” Little Bear whispered despairingly.
“No,” Great Bear reassured him. “But there will be one more and perhaps two.”
To Little Bear it seemed certain the night would be gone while he and Grandfather waited. At last he saw a shadowy movement that told him a third warrior was making a circuit of the herd.
“There may be another one,” Great Bear warned, “but we can wait no longer. Keep a sharp watch. We are starting.”
For some time they crawled forward side by side. When they reached a point about halfway to the horses, they separated as Great Bear had planned. Little Bear swerved to the left and Great Bear to the right. Little Bear inched forward until he was near enough to the horses so that the sounds they made would hide any little noise he made as he crept forward. He got to his hands and knees and moved more rapidly. Suddenly he flattened out and lay motionless. A few steps ahead, between him and the horses, a Pawnee warrior was circling the herd. Little Bear dared not cry out a warning to Grandfather.
Little Bear’s heart was thumping so loudly he was sure the Pawnee must come to investigate the sound. Even when the warrior moved on, Little Bear’s heart continued to race. The Pawnee might still discover Great Bear. The minutes dragged by with no unusual sounds until finally Little Bear was sure the warrior hadn’t seen Grandfather either.
Little Bear started forward again. When he was near enough to the horses so that they would hide him from the camp, he slowly got to his feet. The nearest horse snorted loudly and moved back awkwardly. Little Bear stood motionless until the horse again started to graze. Carefully Little Bear moved to the side of the horse. It tossed its head restlessly and then stood quietly.
Now Little Bear moved in front of the horse and knelt down. Quickly he unknotted the hobble ropes. He got to his feet and moved to the next horse. It reared back excitedly. Little Bear dared not take time to quiet an excited horse, and so he left it and stepped up beside another one. This horse scarcely raised its head as Little Bear stroked its side. He knelt and unhobbled it.
When Little Bear got to his feet again, he stood motionless, trying to see into the darkness. Any warrior making a circuit of the herd would be sure to spot horses moving without hobbles. He would investigate immediately. At last, satisfied there was no warrior near, Little Bear put his hand on the horse’s mane and guided it towards the other horse he had unhobbled. He kept the horse walking slowly so that its movements would not easily be seen by a watcher. At last he had the two unhobbled horses together.
Little Bear had thought that when he got the two horses together, the most dangerous part of the raid would be over. He saw now he had been wrong. The only way he could get his horses to the edge of the herd was to keep them moving side by side. He had to walk between them with a hand in the mane of each. Instead of staying close to other horses so that their movements would hide the movements of his horses, Little Bear had to find places where the horses were widely separated. At the edge of the herd, he stopped his horses and wiped the sweat from his brow.
He left the horses standing and scouted a short distance in the direction from which each of the Pawnees had come to circle the herd. He saw something move ahead of him. Little Bear waited until he was sure it was a Pawnee warrior. Then he carefully slipped back and stood between his two horses. He put a hand in the mane of each and held them quiet. The Pawnee warrior came close. One of the horses took a step forward, and Little Bear’s heart quit beating. But the Pawnee didn’t notice the horse wasn’t hobbled. He went on around the herd.
Little Bear waited for a long time after the warrior had passed. He would have liked to jump on the back of one of the horses and go racing away from the Pawnee camp. Still he obeyed Grandfather’s orders and waited silently. At last, sure the Pawnee warrior had returned to his blankets, Little Bear started his horses forward. Often he turned to look behind him. He saw two horses come out of the herd and start towards him. For a panic stricken moment he was sure it was a Pawnee warrior using the horses as a screen. He almost laughed aloud with relief when he realized it was Great Bear with the two horses he had captured.
Little Bear swung his horses to the right so that the four of them would be farther apart and not so noticeable. He no longer allowed his horses to stop and graze, but kept them moving. Slowly he came towards the top of the hill. Every moment he expected to hear an outcry from the camp below. He reached the top of the hill, and still there was no sound from the Pawnee camp. It seemed to take hours to cross the hill and get far enough down the other side to be out of sight of the camp, but at last it was done. The first part of their raid had been successful.
“We made it,” Little Bear gloated as Grandfather joined him beside their own horses.
“We aren’t away yet,” Great Bear reminded him. “The Pawnees will try to catch us.”
“How soon do you think they will miss the horses?” Little Bear asked.
“Not until morning,” Great Bear guessed. “We’d better start.”
“We will be a long way by morning,” Little Bear vowed.
“Not as far as I would like to be,” Great Bear warned. “We have to circle their camp and then go north. If they guess that is what we are doing, the Pawnees will take a short cut. They may be able to catch us.”
Grandfather and Little Bear each mounted his own horse and led the ones which he had captured. Once the captured horses were well away from the Pawnee camp, it would be easier to drive them, but now there was too much danger the horses would make a break for camp. It was so dark Little Bear wondered how Grandfather could find the way. Although they went slowly, they went steadily. They had gone a great distance before Great Bear turned north.
Little Bear judged they must be about straight west of the Pawnee camp when the first faint light showed in the east. Grandfather had been right. They were still too close to the Pawnee camp. If the Pawnees guessed the route he and Grandfather were taking, there was still grave danger. As it became light enough to see, Great Bear urged his horse to an easy lope.
They rode into a country which was even rougher than that behind them. There were narrow valleys surrounded by steep hills. Great Bear kept at an almost straight course, as though he were sure of the route they were to follow. Every time they started up a hill, Great Bear rode ahead. Then he would dismount and walk in front of his horse. At the top of each hill he would look back and make sure no Pawnees were in sight before he would signal Little Bear to bring the horses across the top of the hill. When the sun was straight overhead, Great Bear halted beside a small stream.
“We are safe now.” He smiled. “The Pawnees will not dare follow us farther into Sioux hunting grounds.”
Little Bear toppled off his horse and stretched out on the ground. He hadn’t believed anyone could get so tired riding a horse. Grandfather stretched out beside him.
“We have been successful enough that we can return to the main camp proudly,” Great Bear exclaimed happily.
“Aren’t we going to try to catch that Crow?” Little Bear asked.
Great Bear shook his head.
“You have two good horses,” he pointed out. “I am sure Flying Arrow will trade you the roan colt for either of them.”
“I suppose he will,” Little Bear agreed. “And you have two good horses, but I don’t believe either of them is as good as your buffalo horse the Crow took.”
“We should return to the main camp,” Great Bear insisted. “We have won a victory over the Pawnees. That is enough.”
Little Bear looked at the four captured horses. They were good horses. He and Grandfather had been lucky to pick out such good horses in the dark. Undoubtedly Flying Arrow would trade the roan colt for any one of the horses. Little Bear knew he and Grandfather could ride into the main Sioux camp in triumph. No other boy in the entire Sioux nation was the owner of three such fine horses. Yet it angered him to think of the Crow warrior going unpunished. The Pawnees had been punished for their attack on the Sioux hunting party. That Crow warrior should be taught it wasn’t safe to steal Sioux horses.
“Spirit-of-Water-That-Falls pointed out we could find the Crow if we went towards the setting sun,” Little Bear reminded his grandfather.
“He warned of snow,” Great Bear remembered, “and he said nothing of Pawnees. I think it was only a dream and no message from a spirit.”
“As you say, Grandfather,” Little Bear agreed, “although I think that Crow should be punished and I would like to have you get your buffalo horse back.”
Great Bear smiled proudly.
“Someday you will be a great chief, Little Bear,” he prophesied. “You have a ready tongue and the courage to do what your tongue suggests. We shall spend two more days trying to find the Crow’s trail.”
Since their supply of meat was almost all used, Great Bear decided he should get a buffalo. While Great Bear was gone, Little Bear busied himself around the camp. He took the ropes with which the Pawnee horses had been hobbled and spliced them to make two long ropes. The long ropes could be used to tie packs onto the backs of horses. He was just finishing when Grandfather returned to camp.
Grandfather had killed and butchered a fat buffalo cow. He had the meat tied in two large bundles, each bundle wrapped in half of the buffalo hide. They used one of the ropes Little Bear had spliced and tied the packs securely on the back of one of the captured horses.
“We shall ride west until time to make camp,” Great Bear decided. “Tomorrow we shall go south and west to see if we can find our enemy’s trail.”
As both of them were tired from the long, hard day’s ride, they stopped early to make camp. Great Bear selected a small valley in which there was a large grove of trees. Wood was plentiful and as they were so deep within Sioux territory, it was safe to build a fire. When the fire died down to embers, Great Bear roasted buffalo tongue over the coals. Little Bear gorged himself on the delicious meat.
They made an early start the next morning. It was a cloudy, damp day and Little Bear began to wonder if he had made a mistake, urging Grandfather to return to pursuit of the Crow. Spirit-of-Water-That-Falls had promised a victory over the Crow. But the Spirit had allowed a victory over the Pawnees. Perhaps one victory was all the Spirit intended for them to win.
“It looks as though the Great Spirit will send more rain to hide the Crow’s trail again,” Grandfather said, interrupting Little Bear’s thoughts.
“We must be getting near the Crow.” Little Bear spoke encouragingly.
“We should be,” Great Bear agreed. “After the big rain, the Crow must have seen signs of the Pawnees. He would lose much time hiding his trail from them.”
“We’ll catch him,” Little Bear insisted stoutly.
By noon, when they stopped to rest their horses and cook food for themselves, the rain Great Bear had expected began to fall. It was only a light mist, but a light breeze from the southeast drove it into their faces. Little Bear noticed Grandfather was constantly casting anxious glances towards the north.
“Why do you watch the north?” Little Bear asked.
“I am afraid Old-Man-of-the-North is getting ready to send snow,” Great Bear explained.
“Not this early,” Little Bear protested. “We have had no ice yet.”
“Sometimes Old-Man-of-the-North is unreasonable,” Great Bear answered. “It seems all of the spirits have been working to protect the Crow. I feel Old-Man-of-the-North is sending snow.”
“Then let’s lose no time,” Little Bear urged. “We must find the Crow’s trail before snow covers it.”
Grandfather nodded.
“We are now on Crow hunting grounds,” he said. “We cannot go much farther.”
When they started again, Little Bear took charge of the captured horses so that Grandfather could give all of his attention to looking for the Crow’s trail. The rain was becoming heavier, but it was warm rain. Great Bear’s fears that Old-Man-of-the-North was sending snow seemed foolish. Little Bear’s spirits rose. He knew Grandfather was sure they were near the Crow. Otherwise the old warrior would not take the time to follow so zig-zag a course. So Little Bear was not greatly surprised when Grandfather pulled his horse to a stop and triumphantly pointed to the ground.
“Here’s the Crow’s trail,” Great Bear announced.
Little Bear rode alongside. Both of them dismounted and studied the marks left by the horses.
“I don’t see a track made by the horse with a stone bruise,” Little Bear said doubtfully.
“He could be at the head of the string,” Great Bear pointed out, “or since the ground is soft from so much rain, the bruise may have healed quickly. I am sure this is the Crow’s trail.”
Little Bear knew Grandfather’s ability at reading signs on a trail too well to doubt his explanation.
“The trail is new,” Little Bear suggested. “The Crow cannot be far ahead.”
“You are learning to read trail signs.” Grandfather nodded approvingly. “We must go carefully so that the Crow will not know we are near. You stay behind with our horses. I will scout ahead.”
Little Bear waited until Grandfather was many paces ahead before he started with the horses. The trail followed the low lands where the Crow could travel easily. Evidently he was so sure no one was following him that he didn’t even stop on high ground to watch the trail behind him. Occasionally while Grandfather was carefully making his way to high ground to get a better look ahead, Little Bear would dismount and study the Crow’s trail. Even if Old-Man-of-the-North did send the snow Grandfather feared, the Crow wouldn’t escape. Grandfather was sure to lead a raid against the Crow’s camp tonight.
With a fire in front it made a comfortable shelter
With a fire in front it made a comfortable shelter
Without warning the wind switched to the north. Strong gusts whipped rain into Little Bear’s face. It wasn’t long until the rain carried an icy sting and flakes of snow were floating among the rain drops. In a surprisingly short time the rain had completely changed to driving snow.
Grandfather waited for Little Bear in the shelter of a clump of trees.
“We must make camp,” Great Bear told him. “These early storms are often bad in this country.”
Little Bear jumped from his horse and quickly pulled the bundles off the pack horse. He turned the horses loose to graze before snow could cover the grass. Both he and Great Bear worked rapidly making camp. There were many dry branches under the trees. These they heaped in a pile for firewood.
They had just turned to the work of cutting green poles to use in building a lean-to shelter when the snow quit falling. The wind died down, and there was a rift in the clouds to the west letting the sun shine through.
“It’s over,” Little Bear exclaimed. “Now we can get back on the trail.”
“It’s only a lull,” Great Bear warned without stopping work. “It will be worse in a few minutes.”
Great Bear was proved right almost at once. The wind came up again, driving icy snow into their faces. The trees with their low branches offered some protection, but even here the swirling snow made it difficult for Little Bear and his grandfather to see. They worked as rapidly as possible. They drove two large poles into the ground and lashed a third pole to those two. Great Bear laid smaller poles with one end against the cross pole and the other on the ground. Little Bear helped pile branches against the poles until the shelter was completed. The finished shelter was a lean-to, closed to the north and open to the south.
Grandfather started a fire on the south side of the lean-to where some of the heat would reflect back into the shelter. Little Bear went to a near-by pine tree and broke off great armfuls of small branches. He shook the snow from these and piled them in the lean-to. He spread the buffalo robes over the branches. With a fire in front the lean-to made a comfortable shelter.
Great Bear took enough meat from one of the packs for a couple of meals. He rerolled the pack and hung it and the other pack of meat in a tree.
“Animals can’t get our food there,” he said.
Little Bear shivered as he thought of the kind of camp they would have had to make if the snow had caught them on the prairie. Out on the plains with no protection from the wind, it would have been almost impossible to make a camp and find fuel. Still Little Bear knew that if he hadn’t coaxed Grandfather to continue in pursuit of the Crow, the two of them might now be safe in the main Sioux camp.
“It is my fault Old-Man-of-the-North caught us here with his snow,” Little Bear admitted.
Great Bear looked at him thoughtfully.
“It doesn’t matter whether we are here or far to the north,” Great Bear answered. “Old-Man-of-the-North would have found us with his snow. The Crow has strong medicine. The spirits are protecting him.”
“Yet we are nearer to him than we have been before,” Little Bear pointed out. “He can’t run from us until the storm stops and then he will leave a plain trail.”
“That is true,” Great Bear agreed hopefully. “Perhaps his medicine is not as strong as I thought.”
For a time they sat in silence. The wind rose, and the drifting snow seemed to close them off from the rest of the world. If the storm continued this way much longer, drifts would be piled so high the horses would not be able to wade through them. A short time before, Little Bear had been eager to keep Great Bear searching for the Crow. The storm showed him they should start for the Sioux winter camp as soon as possible.
“Will the storm be over so we can start for camp tomorrow, Grandfather?” he asked.
Great Bear raised his eyes from the fire.
“Not tomorrow,” he replied. “Perhaps the day after. But we are not starting back without the horses that Crow stole from our herd.”
Little Bear gave him a surprised look.
“The Crow’s trail will be covered,” Little Bear protested.
“We may not need to find the trail,” Grandfather said thoughtfully. “Tell me about that dream you had at the place of water-that-falls.”
Little Bear related what seemed to have happened in his dream. Great Bear listened closely as his grandson told about the part where he and the warrior had ridden the roan horse and especially to the part where they had walked to the Crow’s camp during a snowstorm.
“It must have been a message.” Great Bear nodded at the end. “It is the very place the Crow would pick to camp until this storm is over.”
Little Bear began to take new hope.
“Do you have a plan, Grandfather?” he asked excitedly.
“If it is still snowing in the morning, we may be able to surprise the Crow and get the horses,” Great Bear said. “If it stops snowing before morning, we will get the horses tomorrow night.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to get them tonight?” Little Bear urged. “We know the Crow will be in camp now. In this storm he won’t expect a raid.”
“There are several reasons why we couldn’t get them tonight,” Great Bear pointed out. “It would be difficult to find our way. Besides, we might not be able to get the horses to move out of the valley in the dark and the storm.”
“How shall we be able to get them in daylight?” Little Bear wondered.
“I believe the place where the Crow is camped is a small canyon like Buffalo Trap Canyon,” Great Bear explained. “It has only one entrance and the Crow won’t be camped there. He will find a protected place behind some trees. The horses will be at the north end of the canyon where high cliffs will protect them. If we are careful, we may be able to get all of the Crow’s horses without his seeing us.”
“Tomorrow we will get the horses,” Little Bear vowed.
There was no sign of the storm’s lessening. To Little Bear it seemed the wind was blowing harder than before. As darkness deepened, the fire lighted up a space of only a few feet in each direction. Before he crawled into his buffalo robe, Great Bear rolled two large branches on the fire.
“These will hold fire until morning,” he said.
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.