Young Sioux Warrior

by Francis Lynde Kroll

“We have done it,” Little Bear gloated to himself. “We have really punished that Crow. He will have to walk to the Crows’ winter camp.”

Little Bear had to stifle the triumphant Sioux war cry that welled up in his throat. The next moment he was struck a terrific blow on his left shoulder. The force of the blow spun him off his horse, headlong into the deep snow. He lay dazed, half choked by snow in his nose and mouth. He put his right hand to his shoulder. His shirt was badly torn and blood was running down his arm. He forced his fingers to feel the wound. It was deep, but not deep enough to cripple his arm. He flexed the fingers of his left hand. Although it hurt badly, he could move them.

After his first dazed fright, Little Bear regained control of himself. He knew what had happened. The Crow had seen him. While Little Bear was intent on driving the horses, the Crow had sneaked up on him and shot. If it had not been for snow and wind, the arrow would have struck Little Bear’s heart.

Little Bear’s horse had stopped and was standing with head hanging low. Little Bear could look under the horse in the direction from which the arrow had come. He could see no sign of the Crow. Little Bear waited, puzzled by the lack of movement. Suddenly it dawned upon him what plan the Crow would follow.

Little Bear got to his feet, putting his bow in his left hand. There was a sharp pain in his shoulder when he grasped the bow firmly, but he forced his fingers to hold it. With his right hand he fitted an arrow to the bowstring. He stepped around his horse. His guess had been right. The Crow had slipped ahead and was taking aim at Great Bear. Great Bear had sensed something was wrong. He had stopped his horse and was turning his head to look back at the herd of horses. His startled glance fell on the Crow.

Great Bear reached for his bow, but he didn’t have a chance. The Crow’s arrow was pointed straight at him. The Crow’s movements were deliberate. He was certain he had plenty of time, and he was making sure his first arrow got rid of his enemy. Hurriedly Little Bear brought up his bow. He had no time to take aim. He pulled the bowstring tight and let the arrow fly. The arrow struck the Crow a glancing blow along his arm and knocked the warrior’s bow out of his hand.

The Crow bent forward quickly to pick up his bow, but his left hand couldn’t grasp it. Great Bear swung his horse to face the Crow. Little Bear stepped forward, fitting another arrow to his bow. When the Crow realized his arm was so injured that he couldn’t use his bow, he straightened up. He stood with his injured arm hanging at his side and turned to face Great Bear.

Great Bear rode slowly towards the Crow. The warrior stood unflinchingly watching his enemy. Great Bear took careful aim. Still the Crow stood facing him. Little Bear came to a halt and watched in amazement.

“That Crow is as brave as a Sioux,” he admitted to himself admiringly and was sorry it was necessary to kill so brave an enemy.