  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. (uncaptioned) While the snow was not as deep when they got higher, the wind hit them with greater force. The snow swirled around them until Little Bear wondered how Grandfather could find his way. If there were any landmarks, drifting snow hid them. Still Grandfather moved forward as surely as though he were following a marked trail. By the time they reached the top of the hill, both of them were gasping for breath. They tramped down the snow in the next drift they came to and crouched down to rest. Out of reach of the wind they were almost comfortable. Little Bear dreaded starting again, but if they were to reach the Crow’s camp and get back before dark, they couldn’t lose much time. When they started on again, they were on a flat plateau at the top of the hill. Here they felt the full force of the wind. However, there was an advantage, too. The wind had swept most of the snow away and walking was easier. They stopped only once while crossing the plateau. The wind bit through their clothes so that they were quickly chilled. Great Bear led the way into another valley. Here the drifts were deep and walking was difficult. Little Bear thought with dread of another hill ahead of them. He wondered if he could climb it. He was so tired it seemed every step must be his last. Yet he followed without protest until Great Bear halted behind a clump of trees. They tramped out another shelter in the loose snow and sank down to rest. Great Bear opened one of the packages of food. Little Bear had thought he was too tired to eat, but the food tasted surprisingly good. He felt much better after he had eaten and had rested a few minutes. “If I have judged correctly,” Great Bear told him, “our enemy is camped in the next canyon. It is a narrow one with the only entrance from the south.” “Shall we have to take the horses out that entrance?” Little Bear asked. “It is the only way,” Great Bear replied. “We must use great care so that the Crow does not see nor hear us. He could easily ambush us at the entrance.” “Do we go in through that entrance?” Little Bear wondered. “It is the easiest way,” Great Bear pointed out. “Besides, we want to make sure the Crow isn’t camped near it.” Rest and food had so completely restored Little Bear that he waited impatiently for Grandfather to start. Great Bear smiled at his impatience. “This will be our last rest until we are back in our own camp,” he warned. At last Great Bear started on. He led the way to the hills at the west side of the valley and there turned south. Despite deep snow Grandfather and Little Bear moved rapidly. The wind at their backs pushed them along. They kept close to the hills until there was an opening to the west. Here they again turned west. Now they had a steep hill protecting them from the wind. The hill was so high and steep that snow did not fall at its base. That left a bare path for the two Sioux to follow. In a short time they came to the end of the hill. There was an opening leading north. Great Bear stopped. “This is the entrance to the canyon,” he pointed out. “We will go slowly. This canyon widens after a short distance. It will be safest for us to stay at the east side and follow that side to the north end. I am sure the horses will be at that end.” “And the Crow?” Little Bear wondered. “I hope he has made camp behind trees on the west side,” Great Bear responded. “It would be the best place for a camp. If I am right, we can get to the horses without the Crow’s seeing us.” “He is our enemy,” Little Bear reminded his grandfather. “Perhaps we should hunt the Crow before we take the horses.” Great Bear hesitated, but finally shook his head. “It is what I should like to do,” he admitted, “but we can’t take the time. If I am wrong and he is not in this canyon, we shall scarcely have time to get back to our camp before dark.” To follow Grandfather’s plan, they had to turn directly into the wind. It whistled through the narrow entrance to the canyon with such force they could hardly move ahead. They struggled ahead for a long time before the canyon widened and they changed their direction. Along the east edge of the canyon the snow was piled high. Again Little Bear alternated with his grandfather at the job of breaking trail. The worst came when they turned straight north into the face of the wind. Either the strong wind or the deep snow would have made walking a difficult task. The two together made it almost impossible. Slowly Grandfather and Little Bear fought their way forward. At last they reached the hills which formed the north rim of the canyon. Little Bear was breaking trail. He turned west. Now he could go faster. The high hills broke the force of the wind and there was no snow close to the base of the cliffs. “Go slowly,” Grandfather warned. “The Crow may be camped east of the horses.” Little Bear nodded. He knew it would be easy to stumble into the Crow’s camp. He came to a sudden stop and held up his hand warningly. “There are the horses,” he exclaimed. Great Bear stepped up beside Little Bear to get a better look. “We must go carefully,” Great Bear warned. “The Crow may be camped near his horses.” Great Bear took the lead. He led the way out into the canyon away from the shelter of the cliffs. In the deep snow it would have been impossible for them to move swiftly. To the impatient Little Bear, it seemed they were scarcely moving at all. But, at last, they were beside the horses. Little Bear counted ten horses. So not only would he and Grandfather get back the horses the Crow had stolen from the Sioux, but they would get some of the Crow’s horses, too. Grandfather and Little Bear had mapped their plans when they stopped to rest. Now both of them acted as they had agreed. Great Bear went to his own buffalo horse. He mounted and rode a few paces along the trail he and Little Bear had made. Little Bear went to one of the horses that had belonged to Flying Arrow. He climbed onto it and turned it towards the rear of the herd. The horse hung its head low and refused to move. Desperately Little Bear drummed his heels against the horse’s side until it finally started. Little Bear had to fight the horse all of the way, but finally got it to the rear of the herd. Blowing snow almost hid Great Bear from sight where he was waiting ahead of the herd. He was watching Little Bear. As soon as he saw Little Bear was in place, Great Bear started. At first the herd was unwilling to move from its sheltered place. Little Bear crowded his horse towards the herd. The other horses hesitated, but finally started to follow Grandfather. One horse broke from the herd and tried to turn back. Little Bear’s horse, which had been so reluctant to move before, suddenly darted aside. It got in front of the runaway horse and turned it back with the rest of the herd. Two other horses tried to break from the herd, but Little Bear’s horse was too quick for them. Once aroused, it seemed to enjoy keeping the other horses in line. The entire herd finally settled into line following Great Bear. “We have done it,” Little Bear gloated to himself. “We have really punished that Crow. He will have to walk to the Crows’ winter camp.” Little Bear had to stifle the triumphant Sioux war cry that welled up in his throat. The next moment he was struck a terrific blow on his left shoulder. The force of the blow spun him off his horse, headlong into the deep snow. He lay dazed, half choked by snow in his nose and mouth. He put his right hand to his shoulder. His shirt was badly torn and blood was running down his arm. He forced his fingers to feel the wound. It was deep, but not deep enough to cripple his arm. He flexed the fingers of his left hand. Although it hurt badly, he could move them. After his first dazed fright, Little Bear regained control of himself. He knew what had happened. The Crow had seen him. While Little Bear was intent on driving the horses, the Crow had sneaked up on him and shot. If it had not been for snow and wind, the arrow would have struck Little Bear’s heart. Little Bear’s horse had stopped and was standing with head hanging low. Little Bear could look under the horse in the direction from which the arrow had come. He could see no sign of the Crow. Little Bear waited, puzzled by the lack of movement. Suddenly it dawned upon him what plan the Crow would follow. Little Bear got to his feet, putting his bow in his left hand. There was a sharp pain in his shoulder when he grasped the bow firmly, but he forced his fingers to hold it. With his right hand he fitted an arrow to the bowstring. He stepped around his horse. His guess had been right. The Crow had slipped ahead and was taking aim at Great Bear. Great Bear had sensed something was wrong. He had stopped his horse and was turning his head to look back at the herd of horses. His startled glance fell on the Crow. Great Bear reached for his bow, but he didn’t have a chance. The Crow’s arrow was pointed straight at him. The Crow’s movements were deliberate. He was certain he had plenty of time, and he was making sure his first arrow got rid of his enemy. Hurriedly Little Bear brought up his bow. He had no time to take aim. He pulled the bowstring tight and let the arrow fly. The arrow struck the Crow a glancing blow along his arm and knocked the warrior’s bow out of his hand. The Crow bent forward quickly to pick up his bow, but his left hand couldn’t grasp it. Great Bear swung his horse to face the Crow. Little Bear stepped forward, fitting another arrow to his bow. When the Crow realized his arm was so injured that he couldn’t use his bow, he straightened up. He stood with his injured arm hanging at his side and turned to face Great Bear. Great Bear rode slowly towards the Crow. The warrior stood unflinchingly watching his enemy. Great Bear took careful aim. Still the Crow stood facing him. Little Bear came to a halt and watched in amazement. “That Crow is as brave as a Sioux,” he admitted to himself admiringly and was sorry it was necessary to kill so brave an enemy. At the last moment Great Bear swerved his horse aside and rode past the Crow. If his plan had been to torment the Crow into showing fear, it failed. The Crow stood as motionless as a wood carving. Great Bear completed a circle and for the second time rode at the Crow. Little Bear was ashamed of his own urge to cry out for Grandfather to spare the warrior. The Crow was his enemy. He had stolen Sioux horses and shot at Little Bear. The Crow deserved to die, and yet it took all of Little Bear’s will power to force his eyes to watch the scene. The Crow faced Great Bear without a sign of fear. Great Bear stopped his horse a few paces from the warrior. He drew his bowstring taut and took careful aim. Then slowly he lowered his bow. Great Bear raised his right hand in the sign of peace. He untied the package of food from his belt and dropped it for the Crow. Then he turned his horse and rode back to the head of the herd. Little Bear watched unbelievingly. He kept an arrow pointed at the Crow, ready in case of treachery. The Crow picked up the package of food and, with one hand, awkwardly knotted it to his belt. Without another look towards Grandfather and Little Bear, the Crow turned and started away. Little Bear climbed back onto his horse. As there was no longer any need to avoid the Crow, Great Bear turned off the trail and led the way directly towards the canyon entrance. The snow was not so deep in the middle of the canyon, and Grandfather was able to set a faster pace. Little Bear could feel blood oozing from his wound. It hurt badly, but he gave no sign. The struggle back to camp in the swirling snow was a blur in Little Bear’s mind. His horse kept the unwilling herd following Great Bear. Little Bear used all his remaining strength to cling to his horse’s back. It seemed to him he had been riding for hours by the time Grandfather halted in front of the lean-to. Little Bear slid awkwardly from his horse and staggered to the shelter. He sprawled out on his buffalo robe. Grandfather came hurrying anxiously back to the lean-to. He bent over Little Bear. “You are wounded,” he exclaimed angrily. “I should have killed that Crow.” “He was too brave,” Little Bear murmured and fell asleep. |
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