“So am I,” I said. With that mother let me go. I ran and caught my pinto pony, put my saddle and a few buffalo robes on him and went with mother and Hanabi down the river. When we reached the rest of the crowd, I could hear the papooses howling like a pack of young coyotes.
“What is the use of hiding and making such a racket?” I asked. “If the Crows have any ears they can hear this noise for five miles.”
Mother said that it made no difference for the Crows did not dare to come into the brush after us.
“Are the Crows as big cowards as our Indians?” I asked.
She said that they were.
“Then there is no danger,” I said; “we had better go to sleep.”
It was not long before we heard Washakie call for us to come back.
“There,” I said; “another scare is over with no Crows at all. I shall never hide again.”
When we got to camp we learned that a few Crows had chased some of our Indians and had fired a few shots at them, but nobody had been killed, and not even a horse had been stolen. About fifty of our young warriors were following the Crows; but I knew that they would never overtake them.
