  Little Bear was out of the tepee the next morning before the sun had started up the eastern sky. Early as he was, Great Bear was already broiling buffalo steaks over a low fire. “You are early this morning, Grandfather,” Little Bear greeted him. “It seemed the Great Spirit was trying to warn me,” Great Bear explained. “He wouldn’t let me sleep. I feel there is danger.” Little Bear had no thought of laughing at his grandfather. Many times Grandfather had thought the Great Spirit was trying to warn him of danger, and danger had appeared soon afterwards. No, if Great Bear was afraid of danger, danger must be near. (uncaptioned) “Bring me a horse,” Great Bear ordered. “I’ll make a scouting trip before the others are ready to break camp.” “Have our hunters decided to return to the main camp?” Little Bear asked. “It is time for Old-Man-of-the-North to send snow,” Great Bear answered. “We will join the other Sioux and move with them to the winter camp.” Little Bear opened his mouth to make a request, but thought better of it and remained silent. Grandfather noticed his hesitation. “Bring your horse, too.” He smiled. “You may as well learn about scouting. Besides, you were a great help yesterday.” Little Bear looked at the wound on the side of Great Bear’s head. Great Bear had removed the bandage. The wound had healed remarkably overnight and now seemed only a deep scratch. “Your wound is healing well,” Little Bear said. “It was just a scratch.” Great Bear snorted. “Off with you.” Little Bear didn’t want Grandfather to change his mind about the scouting trip. He turned and hurried away towards the meadow. As usual, when he came within sight of the horses, Little Bear slowed to a walk. As he neared the herd, he gave that low whistle. He knew at once something was wrong. He saw his own horse lift its head and look towards him. He repeated the whistle, still looking carefully at the herd. He was sure some of the horses were gone. He gave a gasp of dismay. Flying Arrow’s roan colt was gone. Impatiently he whistled again. His horse left the herd and trotted towards him. As he was waiting for his own horse, Little Bear saw the roan colt come out of the brush to the west and join the rest of the herd. At least it wasn’t gone. He mounted his horse and rode into the herd. He had been right. Some of the horses were gone. Grandfather’s best buffalo horse, the black one, wasn’t there. Flying Arrow’s Blazed Face and some of the other horses were missing, too. He turned his horse and rode around the herd to the place where he had seen the colt coming out of the underbrush. There he found tracks leading from the meadow. Little Bear was careful to keep his horse away from the trail the other horses had left. If the horses had been stolen, he wanted to leave all possible signs for the trackers to read. He followed the trail some distance, but he didn’t find the missing horses. He pulled his horse to a stop and sat motionless, trying to decide what to do. If the horses had merely wandered from the herd, the sooner he hunted for them, the easier it would be to find them. But it didn’t seem likely that a few of the horses had wandered off and the others remained. Far more likely the missing ones had been stolen. He should notify Great Bear and the other warriors at once. He swung his horse around and rode back to the herd. It would save time if he brought the horses into camp for the warriors. He drove most of the herd ahead of him into camp. Grandfather and several other warriors heard him coming. They were waiting for him beside Great Bear’s tepee. “Some of our horses were stolen during the night,” Little Bear reported. “The Pawnees wouldn’t dare,” Red Cloud growled. “The horses have strayed away.” “I hunted for them,” Little Bear explained. “Their trail showed they had gone fast. If they had strayed, they would have stopped often to graze.” “The Pawnees had their lesson yesterday,” Red Cloud insisted. “They wouldn’t dare come back that close to our camp.” “Others besides Pawnees like Sioux ponies,” Great Bear observed. The warriors looked questioningly at Great Bear. “Crows steal Sioux horses, too,” he explained. Flying Arrow nodded excitedly. “Let’s follow their trail and get our horses back,” he exclaimed. “It may not be so easy,” Great Bear warned. “Whoever stole our horses has a long start. Perhaps he was careful to leave a poor trail. Little Bear, take us to the trail.” Little Bear led the way back to the place where he had found the trail. The other warriors waited while Great Bear got down and examined the tracks. He studied them carefully. At last he turned to the other warriors. “It was a Crow,” he told them, “and only one. He got our horses soon after our camp went to sleep. He has almost a sun’s start on us, and you may be sure he will try to hide his trail as soon as he is away from our camp.” “We must follow at once,” Flying Arrow insisted. “We won’t let him steal our horses.” “Some of us must stay and guard the meat,” Red Cloud objected. “The chiefs will be expecting us to bring it to the main camp.” “The chiefs will be angry if we delay the tribe’s start to winter camping grounds,” Limping Fox warned. “It will not be long until Old-Man-of-the-North sends snow flying.” “Red Cloud and Limping Fox have spoken wisely,” Great Bear agreed. “We must take our meat to the main tribe at once, but I will not lose my horses to a thieving Crow. While the rest of you return to camp, I will go after the horses.” “You should not go alone,” Flying Arrow protested. “I will go with you.” “The chiefs put you in charge of this hunting party,” Great Bear reminded him. “You must return with it.” “That is true,” Flying Arrow admitted. “Still, you should not go alone.” “I will go with Grandfather,” Little Bear offered. “Why of course,” Great Bear exclaimed. “I should have thought of that. Little Bear has proved himself dependable.” None of the warriors offered a protest. If any of them thought a boy would be small help on so dangerous an errand, they didn’t say so. The party rode back into camp where Great Bear busied himself gathering the things they would take with them. When he had finished, there were only two small bundles. “We can travel faster if we travel light,” he explained. “We will find our food as we need it.” Despite their haste, the sun was almost overhead when they reached the trail again. Great Bear took the lead and Little Bear followed behind. They went rapidly, as whoever had stolen the horses had made no attempt to hide his trail. They had not gone far before Little Bear realized the trail was leading straight towards Buffalo Trap Canyon. He could see Grandfather was troubled because the trail was running so straight and was so well marked. When they came to the stream that ran through the valley in front of the entrance to Buffalo Trap Canyon, Little Bear saw why Grandfather had been troubled by the plain trail. The trail led straight across the stream into the place where the grass had been burned off. Here it became a maze of criss-crossing tracks. Great Bear dismounted and carefully studied the marks. Little Bear jumped from his horse and looked, too. The tracks completely puzzled him. “He led the horses in and out of the stream so that we wouldn’t know whether to look upstream or downstream for his trail,” Great Bear explained. He led Little Bear along the trail upstream. There were many places where the horses had been led into the stream and back out again. They returned to the stream they had followed and went downstream. It was the same here. The horses had been led in and out of the water so many times it was impossible to tell whether they had finally gone upstream or down. “He is clever,” Great Bear admitted grudgingly. “We shall have to search upstream and downstream to find which way he really went.” Little Bear looked over the valley where yesterday’s fire had burned off the grass. “Perhaps it wouldn’t make any difference whether he went upstream or downstream,” Little Bear suggested. “I think he would circle around and get on the trail the Pawnees made when they ran yesterday. He would think we couldn’t find his trail there.” Great Bear gave him a surprised look. “Very good,” he praised. “Of course that is what he would do. When we find the Pawnees’ trail, we shall find his, too.” Where the fire had burned, it had covered all traces of the Pawnees’ tracks. But Great Bear judged the Pawnees would ride out of the path of the fire as quickly as possible. He led the way out of that valley and into the next one. The fire had burned over this one, too, but had not gone very high on the hills that formed the south boundary of it. Great Bear led the way in that direction. Little Bear anxiously watched the sun. It was dropping to the ground rapidly. It seemed to be trying to hide its light so that they would have more trouble finding the Crow. From the time he and Great Bear had started on the trail, he had known they couldn’t find the horses before night. Still, he had hoped they could at least find the Pawnees’ trail before darkness fell. Suddenly Great Bear stopped his horse. “Here is the Pawnee trail,” he pointed out. “The Crow didn’t ride along it here, but I think you are right. In the morning we shall find his trail, too.” They rode across the next ridge of hills and down into another small valley. Here the grass was tall and a small spring gurgled up. Little Bear hobbled their horses while Grandfather got out cold meat for their supper. “We’ll have no fire tonight,” Grandfather told him. While they were eating, Grandfather explained to Little Bear that the Crow warrior must have seen the Sioux escape from the Pawnee trap. The Crow would know the Sioux would feel safe after the Pawnees had fled. He would guess they wouldn’t have a guard watching their horses. It would give him a good chance to make a raid. “He would go towards the land of the setting sun, wouldn’t he?” Little Bear asked. Grandfather nodded. “He would circle around and get onto the Pawnees’ trail. He would follow it until he was sure we had given up trailing him. Then he would turn directly towards the land of the setting sun,” Great Bear judged. As soon as he had finished eating, Little Bear rolled himself up in his buffalo robe and quickly fell asleep. He was awakened during the night by the sounds of the horses moving about. He sat up quickly. Then he remembered the horses were not used to hobbles. They were making so much noise because they were moving awkwardly. He rolled himself in his robe again and fell asleep. Morning light was showing only faintly in the east when Grandfather awakened him. Little Bear rolled his robe into a bundle and tied it on his horse. He accepted the food Grandfather gave him and munched it as they rode towards the Pawnees’ trail. When they reached the trail, Grandfather rode to the left of it and motioned for Little Bear to ride to the right. Little Bear would have liked to let his horse go racing along the trail. He was sure the Crow was speeding away with the stolen horses while they were following slowly, searching for his trail. But he knew they couldn’t find the Crow’s trail unless they went slowly. The farther they rode, the surer Little Bear became that his idea had been wrong. The Crow wouldn’t have circled that far before getting on the Pawnees’ trail. He looked across at Great Bear. How much farther would Grandfather ride before he gave up and turned back to search for the Crow’s trail at the stream? Then Grandfather called to him softly. “Here’s where he rode into the Pawnees’ trail.” Little Bear turned his horse to Grandfather’s side of the trail. The grass was bent down, and there were plain tracks where the rider had brought his horses into the trail. Grandfather dismounted and studied the tracks. “One horse has a bad stone bruise,” he pointed out. “See how light the foot print is. That horse is limping.” Little Bear dismounted and bent over the tracks. He could see that one hoof had not cut as deeply as the others. “We should soon catch him,” he exclaimed. “We have lost much time finding the trail,” Great Bear reminded him. “He is far ahead and today we must find game. Our food is gone.” He smiled at Little Bear’s look of disappointment. “Never fear,” he promised. “We will catch him and get our horses.” |
|
