Bent Arrow climbed onto the horse behind his uncle. Flying Arrow turned the animal in the direction of the place where they had left their own horses and started it at a gallop. Snow was falling so fast that the ground was already blanketed with it.
“I’m sorry I let the horse get away,” Bent Arrow told his uncle.
“It couldn’t be helped,” Flying Arrow assured him. “No rider would have expected the horse to buck after running so well.”
A load seemed to lift from Bent Arrow’s shoulders. He had been blaming himself bitterly for losing the horse. He had thought his uncle must blame him. Instead, the warrior had seen it as an unavoidable accident.
The wind began to rise, driving the snow stinging against the riders’ faces. Bent Arrow lowered his head close to his uncle’s back to keep the snow from his eyes. Flying Arrow sat erect, giving all of his attention to keeping the horse running in the right direction.
As they rode on, Bent Arrow strained to catch any sounds of pursuits, but none came. The driving snow was piling up so that the horse was leaving a plain trail. However, if the snow continued, it would soon cover the trail again.
It was daylight when the two Crows reached the place where they had left their horses. Bent Arrow leaped down. Without waiting for instructions, he gathered up their few belongings and the remainder of the deer meat. Flying Arrow dismounted, rolled the supplies in two bundles, and tied the bundles on one of the horses. He took the lead rope of that horse and motioned for Bent Arrow to mount the other one.
“We’d better cross the river to find a hiding place,” Flying Arrow decided.
Bent Arrow shivered at the thought of getting in that icy water. However, when they came to the river, he slid from his horse and swam beside it to the other shore.
Across the river, Flying Arrow continued riding straight into the wind. The driving snow stung their faces and pelted their eyes, but Flying Arrow continued to lead the way confidently. Finally he stopped in a sheltered place.