  Bent Arrow looked at his uncle in dismay. It seemed unbelievable that they had traveled all of that distance the day before without seeing a sign of pursuit and now the Sioux were almost upon them. “The Sioux are smart,” Flying Arrow said bitterly. “They knew we must stop sometime to rest. This place is on the way to our camping grounds. It is a place where we can leave our horses unwatched. The Sioux thought of those things and the mounted warriors took a short cut to get here.” “How many Sioux are there?” Bent Arrow asked. Flying Arrow held up one hand with the thumb doubled under. “They will come so close that we don’t dare leave,” he explained. “They’ll wait for the others before they attack.” “We can hold them off,” Bent Arrow exclaimed. He told his uncle of how he had climbed to the top of the wall. He described the top and how it would be possible to stay up there and fire down on the Sioux. If the Sioux tried to rush the entrance, there were loose rocks which could be rolled down on them. “We might be able to hold them off,” Flying Arrow agreed, “but we have little food. Soon we shall starve.” “The Sioux won’t stay long,” Bent Arrow insisted. “Old-Man-of-the-North will send more snow. They will leave for their winter camp.” “The Sioux will not want to stay,” Flying Arrow admitted, “but the disgrace of losing so fine a herd of horses to one warrior and one boy will shame them into staying.” “We’ll find a way,” Bent Arrow insisted. “We will,” Flying Arrow agreed, but there was little hope in his voice. “You should rest before the Sioux get here,” Bent Arrow urged. “I’ll climb up onto the ridge and watch.” “Drop a small stone to waken me when the Sioux get near,” Flying Arrow ordered. As he walked to the place where he could climb the wall, Bent Arrow noticed how small an area of grass there was in the canyon. Not only would he and his uncle be short of food if the Sioux besieged them, but the horses, too, would soon be starving. When he reached the top of the wall, Bent Arrow looked around. The Sioux were not yet in sight. He made his way along the rim toward the entrance. In most places the rim was wide enough to easily walk on. There were a few narrow places where he had to walk carefully. One short stretch was so narrow that he had to get to his hands and knees and crawl. Near the break which formed the entrance, the rim was wide. A few shrubs were growing there. These would give him concealment. He found a few large stones and rolled them near the edge so they could be dropped on attackers. He looked to the east again. He could see four horsemen approaching. He reached over to drop a stone to warn Flying Arrow, but changed his mind. The Sioux were still too far from the canyon to be a danger and Flying Arrow needed all the rest he could get. Bent Arrow stretched out behind a shrub and watched the Sioux. The riders came on until they were almost within bowshot. There they pulled their horses to a stop. For some reason the Sioux seemed to be puzzled and uncertain. They drew together in a group. Evidently they were debating something concerning the canyon. Several times one of them waved his arm toward the entrance. Suddenly, the one who had been doing most of the talking sent his horse dashing toward the entrance to the canyon. It was too late for Bent Arrow to warn his uncle. Whatever was to be done to stop that Sioux, Bent Arrow had to do it. Bent Arrow raised his bow and took careful aim. The rider, stretched low over his horse’s neck, was not a good target, but Bent Arrow was confident that he would not miss. He drew the bow taut, but he lowered it without letting the arrow go. It had come to him why the Sioux were acting so strangely. They weren’t sure their quarry was still in the canyon, or if they were in the canyon, whether or not they were alert. The rider was hardly within good bowshot when he wheeled his horse and dashed back to the others. The Sioux talked together again, often glancing toward the narrow opening. After a time, they divided into two pairs, one pair riding to the left and one to the right. From the way the warriors watched the ground, Bent Arrow knew that they were looking for a trail leading from the canyon. While the Sioux were searching for a sign that he and his uncle had escaped, Bent Arrow dropped a stone to arouse Flying Arrow. It didn’t take the Sioux long to make sure that the raiders were still in the canyon. The four warriors returned to a place in front of the entrance, making sure they were out of range. They gave the Sioux war cry, but neither Bent Arrow nor his uncle gave any sign that they heard it. The four warriors talked together again. Two of them left the group, one going to the right and the other to the left. As though at a signal, both turned their horses and dashed toward the entrance. Bent Arrow drew a bead on the warrior nearest to him, but waited for Flying Arrow to take the first shot. The warriors drew together and seemed about to try to dash through the entrance side by side, and still Flying Arrow didn’t shoot. At the last moment the two Sioux wheeled their horses and galloped back to their companions. All four Sioux dismounted. They turned their horses loose to graze. Evidently they had decided to wait until the other warriors joined them before making an attack on the canyon. Bent Arrow saw that this would be his chance to go down and get instructions from his uncle. He carefully worked his way back to the place where he had come up the wall. “There’ll be no attack until the other Sioux get here,” Flying Arrow said when Bent Arrow joined him. “I’ll sleep now and you can sleep tonight.” “Shall I go back up onto the wall?” Bent Arrow asked. “It is a better place from which to watch,” Flying Arrow agreed. As soon as Bent Arrow had returned to his post, he dropped a stone as a signal. He settled himself as comfortable as possible. The day dragged slowly by. As the sun was dropping down the western sky, two of the Sioux caught horses and rode away. They soon returned, dragging large bundles of sticks. Before sunset they built a fire and hung meat to roast over it. Occasionally the wind veered and brought the tantalizing odor of cooking meat to Bent Arrow. There was still some daylight when a stone dropped beside Bent Arrow, signaling that Flying Arrow wanted him to come down. As Bent Arrow made his way along the rim toward the place where he could go down, he watched the outer wall. He saw one place where rain water had washed out a small rough groove. It would be a dangerous way, but it might be possible to descend there. Flying Arrow had put out a small piece of meat for each of them when Bent Arrow got there. The warrior appeared very discouraged. He sat with a worried frown creasing his brow and had little to say. The only time he acted more cheerful was when he examined the wound in Bent Arrow’s shoulder. “A night rest and you will forget you had a wound,” he said. Bent Arrow told of the place he had found where it might be possible to go down the outer wall. “We might slip down there and escape before they missed us,” he said. Flying Arrow shook his head. “The horses are getting restless,” he explained. “If they aren’t watched, they’ll get out of the canyon. The Sioux would guess at once that we were trying to escape. We’d be caught before we were well started.” “How soon do you think the other warriors will get here?” Bent Arrow asked. Flying Arrow didn’t answer. He got to his feet and went to the narrow passage opening out of the canyon. Pressing himself against one wall, he moved ahead and was soon out of sight. A few moments later he came back. “I wanted to make sure that the Sioux weren’t trying to sneak in here,” he explained. “They’re around their campfire. They won’t attack before the other warriors get here.” Again Flying Arrow sat with his head bowed. Bent Arrow had felt encouraged by his uncle’s belief that the Sioux would not attack for a while. To him, every moment of delay brought hope that something might happen to prevent any attack. Yet Flying Arrow’s gloom was beginning to affect him too. “I didn’t answer your question,” Flying Arrow said, looking up. “I believe the other warriors will be here before daylight, although I doubt if much of an attack is made. They’ll wait to starve us out.” “If we could think of some way to get help,” Bent Arrow thought aloud. Flying Arrow looked up. He started to speak but changed his mind and shook his head. “You thought of a plan,” Bent Arrow exclaimed. “It was too dangerous,” Flying Arrow answered. “You said we can’t escape from here,” Bent Arrow urged. “Your plan can’t be more dangerous than staying here.” “I had thought of letting you climb down the wall after dark,” Flying Arrow explained. “It is possible that you could find our hunting party and bring help in time.” “Let me try it,” Bent Arrow urged. Flying Arrow remained silent for a long time. When he did speak, it was with reluctance. “It is a desperate plan and there are many chances that it won’t work,” he said. “Yet there is no chance if we just stay here. After dark you will climb down the wall and go to the hunting party’s camping place. If they have started back to winter camp, you are to follow them until you overtake them.” Flying Arrow gave Bent Arrow careful instructions as to how he was to get to the camp. He described the landmark which Bent Arrow would reach which marked the place where he would turn toward the river. Flying Arrow ended his instructions by reminding Bent Arrow that he should travel at the warrior’s pace. “I’ll climb to your lookout place while there is still some light,” Flying Arrow concluded his instructions. “You can watch the entrance until I signal that I am ready for you to leave.” “How will you keep our horses from getting out of the canyon when you are up there on the rim?” Bent Arrow asked. “I’ll throw stones to turn them back whenever they get near the passage,” Flying Arrow explained. Bent Arrow crept into the passage as he had seen his uncle do. He found the niche from which Flying Arrow had watched the Sioux. The warriors were seated around the glowing campfire. Apparently they were waiting for the rest of their party to arrive before they made any move against the canyon. Bent Arrow stayed in his watching place until the signal stone dropped near him. Bent Arrow edged into the passage Although he had little difficulty climbing the wall, Bent Arrow lost some time finding the place where he could go down. When he did find it, he went carefully, feeling and testing with each foot before he put any weight on it. When he was about halfway down, one foot slipped and he went plunging down the steep slope. Somehow he managed to get one foot braced and catch hold with his hands. He came to a stop. For a long time he lay there, afraid to shift his weight lest he go sliding again. At last he moved one foot and slowly put his weight on it. Step by step he inched his way down the slope. At a height greater than a tall man could reach, he came to a ledge. Below the ledge the cliff dropped straight down. Bent Arrow grasped the edge of the ledge, let himself down to arm’s length, and dropped. He landed easily on his feet. Without losing time to look around, Bent Arrow started walking rapidly. He counted his steps by opening and closing his fingers. When he had gone a hundred paces, he began to run. At the end of a hundred running paces, he felt so fresh and strong that he was tempted to run another hundred paces, but Flying Arrow’s orders had been definite. He slowed to a walk for a hundred paces. He continued the alternate running and walking until he reached the lone tree of which Flying Arrow had told him. Here he turned east. With every step Bent Arrow’s confidence rose. He had escaped the Sioux. He had traveled at least half of the night, and he felt as strong as when he had started. He could hold this pace all the way to the Crow winter camp if he had to. The thought of having to travel all the way to the Crow winter camp brought the first lessening of his confidence. He had been thinking of the hunting party as still in the camp where he and Flying Arrow had left them. But they might not be there. They might have started to the winter camp. The thought of Flying Arrow trying to hold that canyon alone all of the time it would take to reach the winter camp drained away all of Bent Arrow’s recent confidence. For the first time since he had left the canyon, Bent Arrow felt fear. He began to increase his speed, and as the fear mounted he ran faster until he was running as hard as he could. It wasn’t until he was gasping for air that he realized his foolishness. He was exhausting himself. Soon he would drop, and there would be no one to try to bring help for Flying Arrow. He slowed to a trot and then to a walk. He walked twice the usual distance before he tried to run again. When he did run, he found that the hard running he had done had tired him badly. It took all of his will power to keep himself running the full hundred paces. And now he had a new fear. He might not be able to keep on even to the river. Yet, somehow he was still going when dawn broke in the east. As the prairie became lighter, Bent Arrow kept on the watch for familiar signs. He had been across the river several times with warriors. If he were near it, he should see signs. Nothing looked familiar. Anxiously he checked his route with the rising sun. He was going in the right direction. He was tiring badly. At the end of each hundred running paces, he was gasping for breath. He would have to stop and rest, but he knew he didn’t dare. If he stopped, he would fall asleep. He kept himself going by thinking of Flying Arrow standing alone against those Sioux. That helped for a few paces, but at last he knew he had done his best and had failed. He was at the foot of some low hills. “I’ll reach the top before I stop to rest,” he vowed. He started up the hill. Halfway up he stumbled and fell. He stretched out and his eyes closed. A feeling of peace enveloped him like a warm blanket, but before he fell asleep, he thought of Flying Arrow. He struggled to his feet and reeled toward the top. He fell again. He stayed on his hands and knees and crawled onward. Just getting to the top seemed to give him strength. He stood up. He tried to look ahead, but weariness had dimmed his eyes so that he could see only a few paces. He started down the hill. The horsemen were upon him before he saw or heard them. He attempted to dodge aside, but strong arms caught him. Dimly he realized that one of the men was Clawing Bear. “Flying Arrow’s at Bear Trap Canyon,” Bent Arrow gasped, and collapsed. |
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