Bent Arrow had been dimly aware of a darker shadow looming ahead of them. He realized that this was Bear Trap Canyon. Actually the canyon was only a narrow cup, circled by hills which rose up out of the prairie. On both sides the hills rose so steeply that it was almost impossible for a man to get up the sides. Bent Arrow remembered having heard warriors talk about the hills. He knew the only opening into the canyon was a narrow slit which they were approaching.
At the opening the herd of horses balked. Bent Arrow had awakened enough so that he was able to do his share, but all their efforts were not enough to force the horses to enter the opening.
“Ride Rock through,” Flying Arrow ordered. “Maybe the other horses will follow him.”
Bent Arrow guided Rock to the entrance. Rock snorted uneasily but, under Bent Arrow’s urging, carefully picked his way between the steep walls. The passage was narrow and covered with stones. However, in a few paces it widened. Flying Arrow had been able to get the other horses to follow Rock. At last the entire herd was safely in the canyon.
“I’ll watch while you sleep,” Flying Arrow said. “Later, you will watch while I sleep.”
Bent Arrow knew that he should protest. Since sundown his uncle had done most of the work of keeping the herd moving. He should have the first rest. But the words wouldn’t come. Bent Arrow stretched out on the ground and immediately fell asleep.
When Bent Arrow awoke, daylight was beginning to light up the eastern sky. He looked reproachfully at his uncle.
“You were to awaken me,” he protested.
“You were wounded and needed the rest more than I,” Flying Arrow answered. “Let’s take a look at your shoulder.”
He led the way to the spring in the middle of the canyon. Bent Arrow crouched down while his uncle washed away the dried mud. Flying Arrow gave a low grunt of satisfaction.