Little Bear had no thought of laughing at his grandfather. Many times Grandfather had thought the Great Spirit was trying to warn him of danger, and danger had appeared soon afterwards. No, if Great Bear was afraid of danger, danger must be near.
“Bring me a horse,” Great Bear ordered. “I’ll make a scouting trip before the others are ready to break camp.”
“Have our hunters decided to return to the main camp?” Little Bear asked.
“It is time for Old-Man-of-the-North to send snow,” Great Bear answered. “We will join the other Sioux and move with them to the winter camp.”
Little Bear opened his mouth to make a request, but thought better of it and remained silent. Grandfather noticed his hesitation.
“Bring your horse, too.” He smiled. “You may as well learn about scouting. Besides, you were a great help yesterday.”
Little Bear looked at the wound on the side of Great Bear’s head. Great Bear had removed the bandage. The wound had healed remarkably overnight and now seemed only a deep scratch.
“Your wound is healing well,” Little Bear said.
“It was just a scratch.” Great Bear snorted. “Off with you.”