“It is doing well,” he said.
“I hardly know that the sore is there,” Bent Arrow assured him. “Now you must rest while I watch.”
“First I’ll ride back a way to see if there is any sign of the Sioux,” Flying Arrow replied.
Bent Arrow wanted to protest, but he knew that it would do no good. Flying Arrow would think it his duty to see that every possible precaution was taken. Very likely, when he returned, he would order Bent Arrow to waken him soon so that they could start on. Fortunately they still had small packets of dried meat, and as soon as they had eaten, Flying Arrow mounted one of the horses and rode out of the canyon.
Bent Arrow felt entirely rested. The wound in his shoulder was hardly noticeable. Since the horses were grazing quietly, he decided to explore the canyon while he waited for his uncle to return. The teacher had told the boys much about this canyon. It was a place of good omen for the Crows. Sometimes, when a warrior had been unsuccessful in raids, he would come here. He would climb the wall and lie on the rim. While he slept, he was sure to have a dream that would lead him to better raids.
Bent Arrow started walking around the canyon, looking at the walls in the hope of finding the place where the warriors climbed to the top. He made a complete round of the walls without finding a place. He started around again. At the far side, he noticed a place where the wall appeared rough enough so that he might be able to climb it. He glanced back at the horses. They were grazing quietly. He decided to see how far he could climb.
For several feet, he was able to go easily by stepping from one small ledge to another. Then he came to a place where the wall was smooth. There was a ledge above the one he was on, but it was out of his reach. Determined not to give up, he took his knife and gouged out a place above his head so that he could get a grip with his hands. He made another place just above his knees. He reached up and dug his hands into the place he had made above his head. He put his toes in the other place. Slowly he pulled himself up. He reached one hand up and managed to grasp the rim of the ledge. Carefully he put his weight on that hand. The ledge was solid. He gripped it with the other hand and pulled himself up. Above the ledge the wall was not so steep. Bent Arrow easily made his way to the top. From his vantage point, he could look far out over the prairie. He saw nothing moving until he looked in the direction Flying Arrow had taken. There he saw Flying Arrow racing back toward the canyon. Flying Arrow’s speed meant danger.
Bent Arrow turned back and went down the way he had come up. Getting down was easy, and he was waiting at the entrance when Flying Arrow dashed up.
“The Sioux are less than half a sun’s march from us!” Flying Arrow cried.
