“What exactly we were going to hunt we did not know, but we were so excited about the prospect of living by ourselves for a few days that the problem of what to hunt did not seem to bother us too much at the time.
“One thing my father had cautioned me about. ‘My son, Running Dog,’ he said, ‘on your trip be aware of any strangers. Not too far to the north is the land of the Kiowas and they have been seen recently in this area. Just a few scattered here and there, but you and your friend White Cloud are riding two very fine ponies; and the Kiowas, I am sure, would like nothing better than to return to their village in the possession of three more very fine Apache horses, for their very life is one of horse stealing. The pack horse you take is just as strong and fast as the other two, so be careful and do not get careless on your trip. You are old enough now to realize the dangers an Apache faces in this country.
“‘Besides the wandering Kiowas you had best be alert to the cats that roam the rock ledges. Keep your bow and arrow handy and make sure your hand is steady, for you will get but one chance to stop the wild leap of a mountain lion if he chooses to spring. Now I must bid you good-bye. I have asked the gods to protect you and your friend White Cloud. May they guide you safely to a successful hunt and a safe return to your homes and your families. I will ride part way and see you on your way. Come, I will get my horse.’”
So the two boys, along with Running Dog’s father, rode to the edge of the camp and a little way farther on, where Running Dog’s father bade them a fond good-bye once again and turned to return to the village.
The two boys waved until they were out of sight and then concentrated on the long trip they felt they must make before they would enter good hunting territory. As they rode they kept careful watch along the trail for signs of anyone having recently been there.
Occasionally they saw signs where Indian ponies had been but these were all many days old. They found evidence too of wild game, but at no time did they catch sight of anything more than a rabbit or two.
After traveling most of the day and stopping only for lunch the two boys decided to halt and make camp for the night. They found a beautiful spot near a water hole and after staking their horses out they unrolled their blankets and prepared the evening meal. In the darkness they could hear the coyote baying at the moon and Running Dog remarked how sad and plaintive was the call of the coyote. White Cloud agreed, “Yes, Running Dog, it is quite a sad sound, but after all the coyote is a very lonely animal. You too would not feel much like laughing if you had to spend all of your life alone without friends.”
The two boys laughed and then wrapping themselves in their blankets were soon fast asleep.
The following morning the boys rose and after eating breakfast, packed their equipment once again and were soon on the trail, traveling ever northward. Soon they had entered land that was not at all familiar to them, but they began to notice plentiful signs of game and so they kept eagerly onward.
“Look,” cried Running Dog, “pony tracks, and they are fresh. Not too long ago Indian ponies passed this way. In fact I would say they are not more than a day old. See, it has been damp here and the impression of the ponies’ hoofs has not had time to harden through. I wonder though, White Cloud, why our brothers would be this far north?”