“It is better, although it hurt when I was kneeling in that clump of willows,” Bent Arrow told him. “I hope I can find an ea—. Look, Uncle. Look. There’s an eagle soaring above us.”
Flying Arrow’s glance followed Bent Arrow’s pointing finger.
“Yes, that’s an eagle,” he agreed.
“I must follow it,” Bent Arrow exclaimed. “I’m sure that it will drop the feather I need.”
He told Flying Eagle of his dream. Flying Eagle listened and, at the end, thoughtfully considered what Bent Arrow had told him.
“Since your dream wasn’t finished, it is difficult to tell what it means,” Flying Arrow said. “Still, Clawing Bear said that you must have an eagle feather. It would almost seem that the eagle has been sent here to bring you a feather. Go carefully.”
Bent Arrow picked up his bow and arrows.
“I’ll go down the river to the forks,” Flying Arrow said. “When you return, meet me there. We’ll cross the river after dark.”
“I’ll be back before you’re ready to leave,” Bent Arrow answered confidently. “The eagle isn’t far from us.”
“It’s farther than you think,” Flying Arrow told him. “It is so high in the sky that the distance deceives you. We’ll plan to meet at the forks.”