Flying Arrow and Bent Arrow went together to get the horses. Flying Arrow mounted his own horse, while Bent Arrow got on Rock. The horse they had captured from the Sioux was left behind. Flying Arrow led the way, with Bent Arrow close behind him. Traveling was difficult. The driving snow made it hard for them to see. It was impossible to judge the depth of the drifts. Twice Flying Arrow started through what looked to be ordinary drifts only to find them so deep that the horse couldn’t get through. Each time he had to back the horse out of the drift and circle around it.
They had gone only a short distance from camp when Flying Arrow’s horse stepped into a drift and plunged out of sight. Rock reared and jumped back. As soon as he had his horse quieted, Bent Arrow dismounted and hurried to the edge of the drift. He could see his uncle still on his horse. The drift had filled and hidden a small ravine. Flying Arrow was trying to quiet his horse so that it wouldn’t injure itself.
“Get on your horse,” Flying Arrow ordered. “Toss me your rope. If you can pull me out, we’ll get the horse out.”
Bent Arrow hurried back to Rock. When he was mounted, he urged the horse forward. Rock stepped carefully, and again Bent Arrow was thankful for this dependable horse. When he was as close to the edge of the ravine as he dared go, Bent Arrow pulled the horse to a stop and tossed one end of the rope down to his uncle. He looped the other end of the rope across Rock’s shoulder as he had seen squaws tie travois poles. When Bent Arrow gave the command, Rock backed slowly away from the ravine. In a moment Flying Arrow was safely on the bank.
The moment Flying Arrow was off its back, his horse started plunging and struggling to get out. It worked its way forward to a place where the banks were lower, but still it couldn’t get out.
“I’ll have to pull it out,” Flying Arrow said.
He took the rope from Bent Arrow and tossed a noose over the horse’s head. After he had fixed the noose so it couldn’t slip and choke the horse, he took Bent Arrow’s place on Rock.
“Make all the noise you can,” Flying Arrow ordered. “Get the horse excited so it will try to get out.”
Bent Arrow yelled and jumped at the horse. It had been quiet. Now it scrambled frenziedly to get out of the ravine. Rock backed away, pulling on the rope. The hoofs of the excited horse caught on the edge of the ravine. It gave a lunge, and at the same time Rock put all of his weight against the rope. The horse’s hoofs slipped, but it got another footing and scrambled out. It stood in the snow blowing and pulling.
“This is too dangerous,” Flying Arrow decided. “We almost lost one of our horses. We’ll return to camp and make a better plan or at least wait until we can travel.”