  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.” (uncaptioned) 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. |
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