Young Crow Raider

by Francis Lynde Kroll

As he lay there, Bent Arrow’s ear caught a rumbling sound carried by the ground. It took him a moment to realize what caused the noise. It was the rumble made by a great herd of running buffaloes, and he knew the Sioux must be near.

Again Bent Arrow looked up into the sky. His heart sank when there was no sign of the eagle, but the next moment he saw it again. The bird had soared a short distance toward the river. Now it had turned and was coming back. Bent Arrow gave a cry of triumph when he saw a feather floating from the eagle and dropping toward him.

He leaped to his feet. But while the feather was still high in the air, a breeze caught it and wafted it away from him toward the trees in the valley. Bent Arrow raced toward it. It looked as though the feather was going to lodge in the trees, but another gust of air lifted it over them. As Bent Arrow ran up the hill at the far side of the valley, the feather was just out of reach above his head. A few more steps and he would be able to grab it.

Near the top of the hill, the feather was low enough, but it was so far ahead that Bent Arrow could not quite grasp it. He sprinted forward. The feather barely cleared the top of the hill. Bent Arrow tensed himself to dive for it. Instead, he dropped to the ground. In the valley below him were Sioux warriors butchering the buffaloes that they had killed.

At the moment Bent Arrow saw the Sioux, he also saw the feather lodge against a weed a few steps ahead of him. He dared not crawl down to it. At any moment a Sioux warrior might glance up and see him. He had to crawl back off that hilltop before he was discovered.

Bent Arrow pushed himself back. Each inch that he moved back was torture. Every movement had to be painstakingly careful or it would attract attention. A Sioux warrior looked up from his work and glanced directly at Bent Arrow. Bent Arrow held himself motionless. When the warrior went back to his work, Bent Arrow resumed his backward crawling. When he was finally across the hill, he continued to crawl until he could stand without being seen from the other side. He wanted to run for the shelter of the trees. Instead he walked. A Sioux warrior might catch the thud of running feet.

It was all Bent Arrow could do to keep from running. Step by slow step, he went down the hill and came to the trees. In his mind he had been thinking of the trees as a hiding place. When he reached them, he knew he must go on. Undoubtedly the Sioux would select this spot for their camp. He crossed the valley and climbed the hill at that side, constantly looking back. At the top of the hill, he took one last backward glance. The head of a Sioux horse was just coming into sight at the top of the hill on the other side of the valley. Bent Arrow ducked down out of sight.

He crawled until the hill hid him from the Sioux. The river looked a long way ahead, but now he could run. Sioux warriors on their horses wouldn’t be able to hear the thud of his feet. He sprinted to the nearest tree before looking back. When he did, there was no sign of the Sioux. Evidently they were making camp in the small valley on the other side of the hill.

Not until now had Bent Arrow noticed the throbbing pain in his leg. He slowed his pace to try to ease it, but it was still hurting badly when he came to the river.

The sun had gone down before he reached the river, and darkness was beginning to shadow everything. Bent Arrow slipped into the river and swam across. Strangely, when he crawled out on the bank, the pain in his leg was much less. He turned downstream, staying close to the river as it was lighter there.