  The sun was just climbing over the hill to the east when Little Bear awoke. There was an unusual stillness about the camp. He sat up with a puzzled look. A glance at Great Bear’s robe showed part of the reason for the stillness. Great Bear was still asleep. Little Bear crawled silently out of his robe and looked around. The horses were gone! Into Little Bear’s mind flashed a picture of Grandfather and him, trudging afoot that long, weary journey to the main Sioux camp. He went over to the spot where the horses had been standing. He felt some relief when he wasn’t able to find any moccasin tracks. If the horses had strayed off, he might be able to catch them. The horses’ tracks led to the edge of the shelf and down the steep bank. There were great furrows plowed in the soft mud where the horses had set their feet and slid down. Little Bear went slipping and sliding down the trail the horses had made. When he got to the bottom of the canyon, he found a small stream of water was still running. He noticed the horses had stopped to drink from the muddy stream. He glanced back at the side of the canyon. The high water mark was far above his head. He and Grandfather would have been swept away by the torrent if they hadn’t climbed out of it when they did. He had no trouble following the horses’ tracks. The animals’ hooves had left deep marks in the wet ground. Nevertheless he was pleased to find the two horses grazing on some bunches of grass that had not been covered with mud. Since he was sure the horses would not stray far, Little Bear started back to camp. He had trouble climbing up the slippery bank, but finally got back to the shelf. Great Bear was crawling out of his robe as Little Bear returned. “Where are the horses?” Great Bear demanded anxiously. “They are grazing in the canyon,” Little Bear explained. “If we can find wood, we will build a fire,” Great Bear decided. “There is small danger anyone will see the smoke.” They searched the place where they had found wood for last night’s fire. There were only a few small sticks they had missed in the darkness. Great Bear whittled these into fine shavings. After many failures, he finally managed to get a fire started. The damp wood didn’t make a very good fire, but it did give off some heat. “How far is it to the place of tumbling waters?” Little Bear asked. “Not far,” Grandfather answered. “We should be there by the time the sun is straight overhead.” The trip towards the place of tumbling waters was slow and tiresome. Great Bear had lost all hope of recapturing the stolen horses. Little Bear, too, was greatly discouraged. Unless Spirit-of-Water-That-Falls told one of them in a dream how to find the trail, the Crow was almost sure to escape. At first Little Bear took some pleasure from the thought that the Crow might have been caught in the flood. It would be good to have the Great Spirit get rid of one enemy. Then he remembered that if the Crow were drowned in a flood, the horses would be, too, and the thought was less pleasant. Great Bear’s horse plodded slowly along with Little Bear’s following. There was a heavy carpeting of grass in the canyon, but the flood had so soaked the ground that the horses sank deep. The sun was almost straight overhead when they came out of the canyon onto higher ground. Here the footing was more solid and the horses moved faster. “Are we getting near, Grandfather?” Little Bear asked. “It will take longer than I expected,” Grandfather admitted. “Still, we should be there before dark.” After following high ground for a time, Great Bear turned his horse to the left. The ground sloped to the south, and soon Little Bear saw they were nearing a river. Grandfather led the way along the bank of the stream. For some time Little Bear had thought he heard a roaring sound like that of the night before. Now there could be no doubt of it. It was the roar of rushing water. He wondered anxiously why Great Bear didn’t turn towards higher land so that they could escape this flood. “We are near the place of tumbling waters,” Great Bear explained, stopping his horse. “We will turn the horses loose to graze while we go ahead on foot.” Little Bear looked about the place where they had stopped. He saw a small stream winding through a clump of willows and emptying into the river. Great Bear led the way along the bank of this stream. As they went ahead, the roar increased steadily. Little Bear kept a watch on all sides, half expecting Spirit-of-Water-That-Falls, or some other spirit, to step out and stop them. Little Bear was carrying the skin of the buffalo he had shot, and he was ready to drop it and run if a spirit appeared. They rounded a clump of trees and came into view of the waterfall. Little Bear stopped to look. High above them the water dropped over a rocky ledge and came cascading down to a pool below. Part way down, a huge boulder split the sheet of water into two separate sprays. Both sprays fell into one large pool and churned the water up as though there were an evil spirit stirring it. Great Bear had to lean close to Little Bear’s ear to make himself heard above the roar of the falling water. “You go behind that fall,” he directed, pointing to the fall at the left. “Behind it you will find a place that is almost dry. Lay the buffalo skin near the water where the Spirit will be sure to find it. Then sit down and wait for a vision. I will go behind this one. If the Spirit sends you a vision, be sure to ask how we can get our Sioux horses back.” Little Bear nodded. He went to a narrow place below the pool and jumped to the other side. He went slowly and fearfully towards the roaring falls. If he had been alone, he would have turned back. He wondered how he could possibly get through that sheet of falling water to get behind it. But as he came closer, he saw that the water spurted out a considerable distance from the bank. He could walk to one side and get behind the falls. Behind the falls the roar of water was not nearly so loud. Little Bear took the buffalo skin and carefully stretched it out near the falling water. There was a fine mist spraying upon him, but when he moved back near the bank, the spray no longer hit him. He found a large boulder where he could sit with his back against the wall. He held himself motionless, waiting for a visit from Spirit-of-Water-That-Falls. He went slowly and fearfully towards the roaring falls 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. |
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