“The Pawnees have our hunting party cornered in Buffalo Trap Canyon,” Flying Antelope gasped. “I must ride to the main camp for help.”
“It is a long journey,” Great Bear protested. “Help will be too late.”
“It is my only chance,” Flying Antelope insisted.
Great Bear looked at the other two warriors. They shook their heads. They had no other plan to offer.
“Then you must have a fresh horse,” Great Bear decided. “Little Bear, bring one of my horses for Flying Antelope.”
Almost before Great Bear had finished speaking, Little Bear was racing up the hill towards the meadow where the horses were grazing. As soon as he crossed the hill, he slowed to a walk. He didn’t want to startle the horses. He gave a low, shrill whistle. His own horse raised its head. When Little Bear repeated the whistle, the horse started towards him. He noticed that Flying Arrow’s roan colt took a few steps towards him, and he thought how easily the colt could be trained.
In a moment Little Bear had mounted his own horse. It took him only a short time to catch one of Grandfather’s horses. Then, sure that Great Bear would want a horse for his own use, he caught another one.
As soon as Little Bear returned to camp, Flying Antelope mounted one of the horses and sped out of camp.
“He will be too late,” Great Bear said, shaking his head.
Little Bear watched silently as Grandfather moved restlessly about the camp. He seemed to be studying, trying to find some plan by which he could rescue the hunters from the Pawnees. Little Bear had decided he might as well take the horses back to the meadow when Grandfather spoke.
“Flying Antelope will be too late,” Great Bear repeated. “I will ride to Buffalo Trap Canyon. Perhaps I can find a plan to save our warriors.”
Little Bear waited, hoping Grandfather would tell him to come, too. But Great Bear mounted his horse without another word.
“Suppose you want to send a message back?” Little Bear asked. “You have no one to bring it, Grandfather.”
A brief smile touched the corners of Great Bear’s mouth.
“You were going to offer to go with me and be my messenger?” he asked. He shook his head. “It is too dangerous.”
“I am a Sioux.” Little Bear drew himself up proudly. “Many times you have told me, ‘A Sioux’s first duty is to his tribe.’”