Angry Wolf reached the top of the hill and started down the other side. His horse was running harder, and the gap between him and his pursuers began to widen. As the Crow warriors dashed past, Little Eagle sprang up. The warriors were so intent on the chase that there was no danger they would look back. Little Eagle raced after them as though he expected to overtake the horses. The riders reached the bottom of the hill, crossed the narrow valley, and started up the other side. Little Eagle’s hopes began to rise. Angry Wolf was getting farther ahead at every jump of his horse.
Little Eagle didn’t see the arrow fly, but he did see Angry Wolf topple from his horse. The horse kept running, and the Crows went after it.
“They’ll catch the horse before they come back to take Angry Wolf’s scalp,” Little Eagle thought to himself.
There was no time to make a plan. Little Eagle kept running toward the place where Angry Wolf had fallen. He hadn’t any idea how he would do it, but he must hide Angry Wolf from the Crows. A Sioux who went to the Happy Hunting Grounds without his scalp could never be happy there.
When Little Eagle reached Angry Wolf, he crouched over his friend. He had been so sure that the Crow’s arrow had killed Angry Wolf that he gave a grunt of unbelieving surprise when he found that Angry Wolf still breathed. The deep, bloody gash along Angry Wolf’s head warned Little Eagle that there was little hope of saving the other’s life. Yet, since he was still alive, there was a chance.
Little Eagle raised his head and paused to listen. He could hear the sounds of the Crows still chasing the runaway horse. He had a little time. He got Angry Wolf’s arm across his shoulder and somehow got to his feet. Half carrying and half dragging the wounded boy, Little Eagle started away from the trail.
He went on until he was gasping for breath. Although it seemed that he had been struggling under that weight for a long time, Little Eagle knew he had gone only a few paces from the trail. But he could go no farther. As gently as possible, he lowered Angry Wolf to the ground. Again he bent over Angry Wolf, and again he was relieved to find that the boy still breathed.
The only plan which occurred to Little Eagle seemed to have small chance of succeeding, but it was better than not trying at all. He picked up a small branch. Holding this in both hands, he walked backward, brushing the limb back and forth across his trail. It wasn’t a good job of erasing his tracks, but it might keep the Crows from finding them until after daylight.
When Little Eagle reached the place where Angry Wolf had fallen, he stretched out on the ground. He heard a triumphant yell which meant that the Crows had caught the horse. They soon would be coming back. Little Eagle was careful to make plain marks to make it appear that Angry Wolf had struggled to his feet. He started from the trail in the direction opposite to that in which he had taken Angry Wolf. He took as long strides as he could, and at first, staggered about. He wanted to convince the Crows that they were following the trail of a wounded warrior.
He had gone only a short distance when he heard the sounds of the Crows returning. He began to go faster. Whenever he neared a clump of brush, he went directly toward it. He knew the Crows would stop and send warriors to surround the clump before they went near it. They would take no chance of having a wounded warrior ambush them. Each of these delays would give him a chance to lead them farther from Angry Wolf before he himself was captured.