Young Crow Raider

by Francis Lynde Kroll

“The horses will be able to get grass here,” he pointed out.

Bent Arrow hobbled the horses while his uncle started making camp. As soon as he had cared for the horses, Bent Arrow helped build a shelter. Flying Arrow showed him how to lean branches against a small tree to form a framework. Smaller branches were woven into the framework, and there was a wall to keep the snow from their blankets. As soon as the shelter was completed, both of them searched for firewood until they had a good supply piled nearby.

Flying Arrow took his and whittled away the part of a stick that had been wet by the snow. Then he whittled dry shavings. Bent Arrow put his robe over his head and took a corner in each hand. He leaned forward over the pile of shavings, using his robe as a roof to protect the kindling from the snow. As soon as he had enough shavings, Flying Arrow struck fire with his flint and steel. In a moment the fire caught. Flying Arrow fed fuel to it until it burned brightly.

“Now we’ll eat,” said Flying Arrow, smiling.

The food tasted so good that for a few minutes Bent Arrow almost forgot his disappointment over losing his captured horse. The snowfall was heavier, and the rising wind was driving it so that it was sifting through the branches of the shelter.

“We’ll sleep now,” Flying Arrow said when they had finished eating. “As soon as Old-Man-of-the-North stops blowing snow at us, we’ll start toward the main camp.”

“I wish I had a captured Sioux horse to lead into camp,” Bent Arrow said.

“There will be other raids,” Flying Arrow assured him. “Perhaps you will find the eagle feather which Clawing Bear said you needed. With it, you’ll be sure to capture a Sioux horse. You almost succeeded without it.”

Bent Arrow rolled up in his robe and stretched out in the protection of the lean-to. He lay on his side and pulled the robe high to protect his face from the snow that sifted through. In a short time he felt warm. If it hadn’t been that pain began to throb in his leg, he would have been comfortable. In spite of the pain, he soon fell asleep.

When Bent Arrow awoke he found himself in complete darkness. He could see nothing at all. He started to raise his head, but it bumped against something soft. He had to choke back a cry of alarm. While he had been asleep, some strange spirit must have dragged him into a deep cave or an animal’s den. The next moment he smiled to himself as he realized that the snow had drifted over him. Slowly he raised himself, holding his robe in a way that kept the snow from sifting down his neck. When he was out of the drift, Bent Arrow found that snow was still falling. He stood up and looked at the sheltering lean-to. Snow had piled to the top of it and was now blowing across it. It was the snow blowing over the lean-to which had covered him.