Young Crow Raider

Bent Arrow drove himself forward with all his strength. For a few steps he seemed to be closing the gap between himself and the two older boys ahead. The next moment the old pain beat up through his right leg. He had to choke back a gasp as he nearly stumbled.

He forced himself to keep running, although the pain had slowed him so much that the two ahead were rapidly outdistancing him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Sly Fox and Laughing Deer draw even with him and try to pass. In spite of the pain in his leg, Bent Arrow wasn’t going to be last. He lunged forward, barely managing to cross the finish line ahead of the other two.

As soon as he had crossed the line, Bent Arrow turned toward the crowd of warriors surrounding the winner. The warriors were so close to the runner that Bent Arrow couldn’t see who it was. Then he caught sight of Running Elk standing at one side, so he knew that Lone Eagle was the winner.

Bent Arrow saw his uncle, Flying Arrow, at the edge of the circle of warriors. He turned in that direction. He had to grit his teeth to keep from limping, but he was determined that his uncle shouldn’t think he was using his injured leg as an excuse for not winning.

“I’m sorry you have to be ashamed because I can’t win a race,” Bent Arrow said as soon as he was beside his uncle.

“Ashamed!” Flying Arrow exclaimed. “I’m not ashamed. I’m proud that you were able to beat two runners as good as Sly Fox and Laughing Deer. Running Elk and Lone Eagle are a summer older than you. When you are in your fourteenth summer, you will be an even better runner.”

Bent Arrow gulped and bent his head. Only girls cried. Certainly a boy of thirteen summers didn’t, but Flying Arrow’s unexpected praise had brought tears very close to Bent Arrow’s eyes.

“When your leg is completely healed, you’ll be one of the best runners in the whole Crow Nation,” Flying Arrow went on. “You are much improved since your last race.”

“I’ll keep practicing,” Bent Arrow vowed.

“Clawing Bear wants to see you,” Flying Arrow told him.

Bent Arrow glanced at his uncle’s face. He could see nothing there to tell him what the medicine man wanted. Was he to hear bad news about his leg? He would have liked to ask Flying Arrow why the medicine man wanted to see him, but Crow boys were not expected to ask questions.

“I’ll go now,” he agreed.

He turned from his uncle and went past the warriors who were still gathered around Lone Eagle, and on toward the camp. It wasn’t a large camp. There were only about twenty tepees, set up in two irregular lines. This was a hunting party out to lay in a supply of buffalo meat for the winter which was not too far away. The hunters had brought their squaws along. The women would take care of curing and drying the meat that the hunters brought.

The medicine man’s tepee was the last one in the back row and was placed a little apart from the others. Clawing Bear was sitting in front of his tepee.

“Come in, Bent Arrow,” Clawing Bear invited, getting slowly to his feet.

Bent Arrow followed the medicine man into the tepee. Clawing Bear sat near the fire and motioned Bent Arrow to sit beside him. The boy sat quietly while the medicine man selected a pipe, filled it, and lighted it with a brand from the fire. Clawing Bear inhaled deeply, and slowly blew the smoke to the east. After a pause, he took a second puff and blew it to the south. In the same way he blew smoke to the west and to the north. Then he laid the pipe aside.

“You ran a good race today,” he said.

“I didn’t know you were watching,” Bent Arrow answered.

“I don’t miss many races,” Clawing Bear replied with a smile. “I am pleased that you are running better.”

“Your treatment is making my leg better,” Bent Arrow explained. “That is why I am able to run faster.”

“It is about your leg that I wanted to talk with you,” Clawing Bear told him.

Bent Arrow held himself as motionless as possible while the medicine man again filled the pipe and again blew smoke in the directions of the four winds.

“When you were very small, only in your second summer,” Clawing Bear finally began, “your parents took you with a hunting party like this one. One day, when most of the hunters were gone, the Sioux attacked the camp. There were not enough Crow warriors in camp to protect it. When Flying Arrow and the other hunters returned, they found the camp destroyed and, apparently, everyone in it slain.”

The medicine man stared silently at the fire for a long time.

“It was while the hunters were holding the death ceremonies for our people,” Clawing Bear resumed, “that Flying Arrow found you. Your right leg was badly injured. Your uncle set it as carefully as he could. Several Crow warriors looked at you. Each of them shook his head.

“‘It would be better for the small boy to follow his parents to the Happy Hunting Grounds,’ one of the warriors told your uncle.”

Clawing Bear stopped and looked at Bent Arrow.

“The lot of a cripple is bad,” he said gruffly.

Bent Arrow nodded without speaking.

“‘I shall take him to my friend, Clawing Bear, the medicine man,’ your uncle told them.

“He did. I have given you every treatment handed down by Crow medicine men since the Great Spirit walked on earth and taught warriors how to live. Your uncle has seen that you have had every needed exercise. Today you outran two fine racers. The Great Spirit has been kind to you.”

“I am grateful to you and my uncle, too,” Bent Arrow said. “How can I ever repay you?”

“When you are completely cured, we shall be repaid,” Clawing Bear answered.

Apparently the medicine man had completed his story, but he didn’t make the sign of dismissal. Bent Arrow waited.

“I have had a medicine dream about you,” Clawing Bear resumed. “Not all of it was clear. However, there will be trouble with the Sioux. You and Flying Arrow will be in great danger. There was something about an eagle or an eagle feather, it wasn’t clear which. Yet I saw you running swiftly. I saw that your leg was well.”

Bent Arrow’s face glowed. He hardly heard the words about danger. The medicine man’s dream meant that he would be well. Already he could see himself winning a great race and earning a new name much better than Bent Arrow.

“How are you doing with your swimming lessons?” Clawing Bear interrupted his thoughts.

Bent Arrow shivered at the memory of the morning’s icy dip. There hadn’t actually been ice on the water, but there had been frost on the grass along the path to the river. Crow boys were required to swim every day until the ice on the river was too thick to be broken.

“I swim well,” Bent Arrow explained, “but my diving isn’t very good. The other boys ducked me again this morning.”

Clawing Bear nodded understandingly.