“I could go with you,” Bent Arrow pointed out.
Flying Arrow looked at him with surprise. For a moment Bent Arrow thought that his suggestion was going to rouse his uncle’s anger. Then the warrior smiled.
“I should have known that you don’t make words just to hear the sound of them,” he said. “I am proud that you offered to go, but this raid is too dangerous.”
“I would get the exercise which Clawing Bear says I need,” Bent Arrow urged. “I might find an eagle feather, and I can help you by tending the horses.”
Flying Arrow made no answer. Instead, he gave all of his attention to arranging the things he was to take with him. Bent Arrow began to fear that he had talked too much. Evidently he had made his uncle angry. Flying Arrow emptied the arrows from his quiver. Two of them he tossed into the fire. He selected three of the best and handed them to Bent Arrow.
“You may need these,” he said. “There will be hunting to do and perhaps even a fight with the Sioux.”
“Then I am to go with you?” Bent Arrow exclaimed.
“Yes,” Flying Arrow answered, nodding. “I’ll need help, and you need the training. I know you’ll obey orders. When I tell you to stay back from danger, you will do so.”
When everything else was prepared, Flying Arrow filled two small bags with dried buffalo meat.
“There may be times when we don’t dare build a fire,” he explained, handing one of the bags to Bent Arrow.