As Bent Arrow made his way along the rim toward the place where he could go down, he watched the outer wall. He saw one place where rain water had washed out a small rough groove. It would be a dangerous way, but it might be possible to descend there.
Flying Arrow had put out a small piece of meat for each of them when Bent Arrow got there. The warrior appeared very discouraged. He sat with a worried frown creasing his brow and had little to say. The only time he acted more cheerful was when he examined the wound in Bent Arrow’s shoulder.
“A night rest and you will forget you had a wound,” he said.
Bent Arrow told of the place he had found where it might be possible to go down the outer wall.
“We might slip down there and escape before they missed us,” he said.
Flying Arrow shook his head.
“The horses are getting restless,” he explained. “If they aren’t watched, they’ll get out of the canyon. The Sioux would guess at once that we were trying to escape. We’d be caught before we were well started.”
“How soon do you think the other warriors will get here?” Bent Arrow asked.
Flying Arrow didn’t answer. He got to his feet and went to the narrow passage opening out of the canyon. Pressing himself against one wall, he moved ahead and was soon out of sight. A few moments later he came back.
“I wanted to make sure that the Sioux weren’t trying to sneak in here,” he explained. “They’re around their campfire. They won’t attack before the other warriors get here.”