The next morning, just as the eastern sky was lighting up, Flying Arrow led the way out of camp. He was mounted on his best horse. When he had given Bent Arrow his choice of the horses, Bent Arrow had selected Rock.
Although the ground was white with frost, when they came to the river, Bent Arrow jumped from his horse and swam across. On the other side of the river, he trotted beside his horse until he was thoroughly warmed.
Flying Arrow led the way out of camp
Instead of continuing north to find the Sioux trail, Flying Arrow turned east and selected the easiest route along the riverbank.
“I’m sure the Sioux circled north and later returned to the river,” he explained. “We’ll find their trail before the day is over.”
Several times during the day, Bent Arrow dismounted and trotted along beside his horse. Clawing Bear had said he needed exercise. Bent Arrow was determined to leave nothing undone that would help cure his leg.
The sun was still hanging in the western sky when Flying Arrow stopped. Bent Arrow was worried because they had not found the Sioux trail. Flying Arrow seemed to read his mind.
“The Sioux traveled farther before returning to the river than I expected them to,” he explained. “We’ll camp here. We’ll find their trail soon when we start on tomorrow.”
Bent Arrow tended the horses while Flying Arrow built a fire and cooked the meat they had brought with them. When Bent Arrow returned to the camping spot, he could see his uncle before he could see the tiny campfire. Flying Arrow was taking no chances of a fire or its smoke attracting the Sioux.