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. (uncaptioned) 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. (uncaptioned) 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. |