“It is as I had hoped,” he called, pointing to the signs of a recent camp. “The Sioux camped here last night.”
Bent Arrow felt a wave of triumph. He and his uncle were getting closer to the Sioux. He was to have another chance to take part in a raid against their enemies.
“If you can keep traveling, we’ll overtake them tonight,” Flying Arrow assured him.
“I can keep traveling,” Bent Arrow answered confidently.
Flying Arrow led on at a rapid pace. There was no need to take time to study the trail. The Sioux had been so sure that no one would follow them that they hadn’t tried to hide their trail. It was not quite dark when Flying Arrow stopped and studied the signs with a puzzled frown.
“The Sioux stopped here,” he pointed out. “I wonder why?”
Bent Arrow crossed to the other side of the trail, carefully studying the marks.
“Look, Uncle,” he exclaimed. “Another Sioux joined them here.”
Flying Arrow came quickly to Bent Arrow’s side. He studied the hoofprints left by one horse.
“It must have been a scout,” Flying Arrow said after he had examined the trail carefully. “He must have been sent out the night before. If we had studied the camping place carefully, we would have seen his trail.”