With one ear pressed against the ground, Bent Arrow could follow the approach of the Sioux warrior almost as well as he could have had he dared watch. Once the warrior stopped his horse, and Bent Arrow’s heart stopped beating. Before Bent Arrow could decide whether or not he should jump to his feet and run, the Sioux moved on. Bent Arrow’s heart began to beat again.
After the warrior had gone on, Bent Arrow lay still, waiting for a signal from his uncle. At last Flying Arrow tapped the wall of the ditch lightly. Bent Arrow crawled to the edge.
“The Sioux will come back on the other side,” Flying Arrow whispered in Bent Arrow’s ear. “We’ll have to stay here until he returns.”
Bent Arrow crawled back to his hiding place. He took another look up the valley. He thought he saw a Sioux warrior far to the other side, but in the darkness he couldn’t be sure. He caught the sound of the first Sioux warrior returning on the other side of the ditch. Bent Arrow crawled under the brush and lay motionless. As soon as the warrior was safely out of sight, Flying Arrow crawled up onto the bank.
“When daylight comes, the Sioux will find our trail,” he explained. “We’ll travel as fast as we can go now. Later we’ll try to hide our trail.”
Flying Arrow led the way. He tried to find the easiest route, but he made little effort to hide their trail. He led the way out of the valley that they were in, across some low hills and into another valley. He continued on until they came to a small, tree-lined stream. He stepped into the stream, and Bent Arrow followed him.
Although the stream was small, it flowed swiftly, making it difficult to walk against the current. In spite of Bent Arrow’s care, he was soon drenched with the water he splashed. Flying Arrow continued to stay in the stream until he came to a large tree with branches spreading across the water.
Flying Arrow leaped up and caught hold of a stout limb. He swung himself up and crawled onto the limb. Bent Arrow had to jump a second time before he managed to grab the limb. When he did get hold of it, he swung himself behind his uncle. Flying Arrow crawled along the limb to the trunk of the tree. He found a large limb extending on the other side of the tree. He crawled as near the end of it as he could and then dropped to the ground. Bent Arrow dropped down beside him.
There was only a little snow under the tree, but it was enough to leave plain footprints. Flying Arrow found a small branch. Using it as a broom, he swept away the tracks which they had made. There was another tree a few paces from the one the Crows were under. Flying Arrow pointed to it.
“We’ll jump from here to the next tree,” Flying Arrow told Bent Arrow. “You go first. I’ll brush out any tracks you make in the snow.”