Little Bear didn’t know how long he slept. When he awoke, it was dark except for the light of the campfire. The horses were gone. Little Bear guessed Grandfather had put them with their other horses. He could see Grandfather was cooking something over the fire.
Little Bear lifted his head to watch. He saw with relief that there were no flakes of snow drifting down into the fire. The storm was over. Grandfather glanced towards the lean-to.
“How is the shoulder?” Great Bear asked when he saw Little Bear was awake.
Little Bear felt of his shoulder. Grandfather had cut the shirt away and applied a poultice. The wound was sore, but the throbbing pain was gone.
“It is better,” Little Bear answered.
Grandfather came from the fire carrying something on a clean piece of bark. He bent over Little Bear and removed the poultice. Very gently Great Bear applied a new poultice.
“The soreness should be gone by morning,” he assured Little Bear.
Grandfather returned to the fire and began broiling the steaks he had cut. Little Bear’s mouth watered at the smell of cooking meat. He couldn’t remember ever having been so hungry before. Despite his hunger, when Grandfather offered him the first steak, Little Bear remembered his manners.
“You first, Grandfather,” he said.
“Wounded warriors are always fed first.” Great Bear smiled.