“Old-Man-of-the-North is sending his wind at us,” he pointed out. “We would have to circle the Sioux camp and approach it from the south, even if we didn’t want to go there to find the eagle feather.”
“What difference will that make?” Bent Arrow demanded, thinking uneasily of the time they were losing. “The Sioux warriors are not like buffaloes. They can’t catch our scent.”
“Their horses can,” Flying Arrow explained. “With a storm coming, the horses will be restless and uneasy. If they catch a strange scent, they may make enough disturbance to rouse the Sioux camp.”
“I should have thought of that,” Bent Arrow acknowledged.
“It is well to ask questions,” Flying Arrow assured him. “A boy remembers better when he knows why a thing is done.”
Flying Arrow started on. Now they went straight south with the wind at their backs. They were on open ground away from trees, so they could go rapidly. After a time, Flying Arrow turned west. He led the way into a great wide valley. Soon Bent Arrow saw places where buffaloes had been slaughtered, and he knew that they were in the valley where he had seen the Sioux. The Sioux must be camped by the spring across the hills to the north. In the middle of the valley, Flying Arrow turned north and led the way up the dividing hills. Old-Man-of-the-North’s wind was carrying the odor of smoke and cooked meat. There was no doubt but that the Sioux were camped just ahead.
Near the top of the hill, Flying Arrow got to his hands and knees. Bent Arrow followed his example.
“Are we near the eagle feather?” Flying Arrow asked in a whisper.
“It’s nearer the top of the hill and to our right,” Bent Arrow answered.
The two of them crawled forward and then to the right. Carefully they searched every clump of weeds, but they couldn’t find the feather.
“We can delay no longer,” Flying Arrow whispered. “Perhaps we must punish the Sioux to earn such valuable medicine as the eagle feather.”
He stretched out prone and wriggled toward the top of the hill. Bent Arrow followed his uncle’s example. At the top of the hill they could look down into the Sioux camp. There were no Sioux warriors stirring about, although the campfire glowed brightly.
The Sioux camp had been pitched near the trees. The horses were grazing between the top of the hill and the sleeping warriors. The glow of the campfire gave enough light to make it easier for the raiders to pick the horses they wanted. At the same time, the horses would hide Flying Arrow and his nephew from any watchers in the camp.