Bent Arrow stood and helplessly watched the horse. A shower of sparks flew up at one of the campfires as a log burned apart. One end of the log blazed up, throwing light which would have shown Bent Arrow to any warrior awake in the camp. Bent Arrow felt the icy finger of fear along his spine. He wanted to turn and run for the top of the hill. Somehow he managed to fight down his panic.
A new plan occurred to him. As quickly as he dared, he stepped beside another horse. Luckily this horse stood quietly while Bent Arrow walked along its side and reached its head. With the pressure of his hand against the horse’s neck, Bent Arrow guided it toward the horse he wanted. When he had this horse beside the other one, he let it stop. He slowly walked around the horse and went to the side of the one he had been following. This time the horse stood quietly while Bent Arrow put a rope around its neck.
Taking the horse from the herd had to be done slowly and carefully. Any rapid movement might arouse a warrior. Bent Arrow had to hold back his own impatience. By the time that he had worked his horse out of the herd, he was about halfway up the hill out of the valley. Here the shadows were dark, and there was small danger of being seen even if a Sioux warrior chanced to waken. A few steps and he would be across the hill and completely out of sight of the Sioux camp. The horse suddenly swung its head, jerking the rope tight. Desperately Bent Arrow held on. The next moment the horse stepped quietly ahead.
As Bent Arrow crossed the top of the hill, he felt moisture against his cheek. Then he saw flakes of snow dancing in the air. If he and Flying Arrow could move swiftly enough, the snow would hide their trail. Good fortune was on their side this time. Then he saw the mounted rider just ahead of him. There was no chance to escape. At that moment he realized the rider was Flying Arrow.
“Get on your horse,” Flying Arrow whispered. “We can escape easily.”
Bent Arrow jumped on his horse’s back. Flying Arrow led the way, at first going slowly, but soon letting his horse run. Bent Arrow stayed close behind him. So suddenly that Bent Arrow was taken completely by surprise, his horse stopped running and started bucking. Bent Arrow fought to keep his seat. He stayed on for two wild pitches, but the third one sent him flying through the air. He landed with a thud that drove the air from his lungs.
He leaped to his feet, gasping and struggling to draw air into his lungs. When he did manage to draw in a lungful of air, he looked up and saw his horse racing back the way he had come. Flying Arrow had turned and was trying to catch the horse, but it had too great a start. He soon gave up the pursuit and rode back to Bent Arrow.
Bent Arrow fought to keep his seat
“Get up behind me,” he ordered. “We’ll both ride this horse. That one will undoubtedly arouse the Sioux camp.”