It was not until he was comfortably warm that Little Bear realized how hungry he was. He found the package of meat they had brought with them. While they were eating, Little Bear noticed how their tiny fire made a flickering light on the canyon wall.
“Won’t our enemies be able to see this fire a great distance?” he asked anxiously.
“No,” Great Bear assured him. “There are hills high above us in every direction. Besides, anyone caught in this rain would be as busy trying to get dry as we are.”
It was then that a terrible thought struck Little Bear. “The rain washed away the Crow’s trail,” he exclaimed.
“Yes,” Grandfather agreed sadly. “Now we won’t be able to track him. We may as well start for the winter camp in the morning.”
“We can’t give up,” Little Bear protested, thinking of that roan colt he hoped to own when he returned Flying Arrow’s other horses. “We must be near the Crow.”
“Very likely we are near him,” Great Bear agreed, “but this land is made up of many small canyons like the ones we came through. How are we to find the Crow?”
“You said we are near the place of water-that-falls,” Little Bear said thoughtfully. “Let’s go there before we give up. Perhaps Spirit-of-Water-That-Falls will guide us to our enemy.”
“All of the spirits seem to work for our enemy,” Great Bear pointed out. “Yet it might be a gift would win the help of Spirit-of-Water-That-Falls. But what do we have to offer as a gift?”
“We could make him a present of the buffalo hide,” Little Bear suggested. “He should like a present of the hide of my first buffalo.”