“It doesn’t matter whether we are here or far to the north,” Great Bear answered. “Old-Man-of-the-North would have found us with his snow. The Crow has strong medicine. The spirits are protecting him.”
“Yet we are nearer to him than we have been before,” Little Bear pointed out. “He can’t run from us until the storm stops and then he will leave a plain trail.”
“That is true,” Great Bear agreed hopefully. “Perhaps his medicine is not as strong as I thought.”
For a time they sat in silence. The wind rose, and the drifting snow seemed to close them off from the rest of the world. If the storm continued this way much longer, drifts would be piled so high the horses would not be able to wade through them. A short time before, Little Bear had been eager to keep Great Bear searching for the Crow. The storm showed him they should start for the Sioux winter camp as soon as possible.
“Will the storm be over so we can start for camp tomorrow, Grandfather?” he asked.
Great Bear raised his eyes from the fire.
“Not tomorrow,” he replied. “Perhaps the day after. But we are not starting back without the horses that Crow stole from our herd.”
Little Bear gave him a surprised look.
“The Crow’s trail will be covered,” Little Bear protested.
“We may not need to find the trail,” Grandfather said thoughtfully. “Tell me about that dream you had at the place of water-that-falls.”