Young Sioux Warrior

Little Bear sat far back in the great wigwam. The warriors formed a circle around the council fire in front of him. Little Bear had listened to the long debate wishing he dared speak. Plainly two of the older warriors wanted this small hunting party to return to the main Sioux camp. He bent forward to listen as Big Buffalo, one of those two warriors, stood up to speak.

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“It is foolish to stay longer.” Big Buffalo spoke slowly. “The Pawnees have driven the buffalo from our hunting grounds. Next they will attack this small party.”

The moment Big Buffalo sat down, Flying Arrow leaped to his feet.

“Let’s drive the Pawnees out,” he roared.

Little Bear had to clap his hands over his mouth to keep from shouting his approval. With deep disappointment he saw the heads around the circle shake in disagreement. Even the young warriors, whom he would have expected to approve Flying Arrow’s words, shook their heads. Little Bear’s eyes lighted with hope when he saw his grandfather, Great Bear, get to his feet.

“The Pawnees on the other side of the river are many,” Great Bear pointed out. “We are too few to attack them. We could send to the main camp for more warriors, but that would take long. Yet, if we are alert, we can get meat to take back to the main camp.”

When Great Bear sat down, Rain-Maker got to his feet.

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“Great Bear spoke words of wisdom,” Rain-Maker agreed. “We can hunt buffalo on our way back to the main camp. We may get much meat.”

Little Bear looked expectantly at his grandfather. He knew this wasn’t the plan Great Bear had in his mind. The old warrior would never suggest they should run from the Pawnees. Little Bear expected Grandfather to jump up and angrily deny that this was his plan. But Grandfather made no move to get to his feet. Instead, he waited to give others a chance to speak.

“He meant we’d hunt buffalo here and not run from the Pawnees.” Little Bear was frightened when he realized he had spoken aloud.

He drew his blanket over his head and huddled down to make himself as small as possible. He wanted to stand up and dash out of the wigwam, but that would be still worse. A Sioux boy must wait and follow the warriors. He held himself quiet. He had spoken, in the warriors’ council without permission. He must stay and take his punishment.

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“The small one with the big mouth has spoken truly.” Flying Arrow had stood and was talking. “Great Bear would not counsel us to run from the Pawnees.”

Little Bear hung his head in shame. He had been called “the small one with the big mouth.” He knew he deserved the name. It would not have seemed quite so bad if someone other than Flying Arrow had given it to him.

Nevertheless from then on, the discussion changed. There was no more talk of starting back to the main camp without meat. The warriors agreed the Pawnees were not likely to attack while the Sioux were on their own hunting grounds. They decided they would stay and hunt buffalo. When they had enough meat, they would start for the main camp. Even though they were sure the Pawnees would not attack, they decided they would have outriders, scouts, and sentinels on every hunting trip.

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When the council was over, Great Bear was among the first to leave the council wigwam. Little Bear waited until every warrior had stepped through the flap before he left. As soon as he was out of the wigwam, he hurried to catch Grandfather. His hope that Grandfather would let him go with the warriors on tomorrow’s hunting trip made him forget he would be scolded for speaking in the council.

Great Bear reached his tepee before Little Bear caught up with him. The old warrior went into the tepee without stopping. Little Bear knew his grandfather would want to make medicine before tomorrow’s hunt. There was nothing he could do except wait outside until Grandfather came out.

Time dragged slowly. It seemed to Little Bear the sun had stopped in the western sky and wasn’t trying to sink to rest in the west. At last there was a faint rustle at the flap of the tepee. Little Bear looked up to see Great Bear step outside. For some time Great Bear stood looking silently at him.

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“You spoke in the council today,” Great Bear said sternly. “It was a great honor to a boy to be allowed to enter the council tent with the warriors. Speaking without permission was poor repayment of an honor.”

“I know, Grandfather.” Little Bear spoke hesitantly with his eyes upon the ground. “I am ashamed.”

“You earned a new name. One which will be hard to live down.”

There was a hint of a smile in the old warrior’s eyes.

“I am ashamed,” Little Bear repeated.

Without another word Grandfather turned and reached inside the tepee. He straightened up with a bow in his hand.

“Tomorrow you will be twelve summers,” Great Bear told him. “It is time you learned to use a good Sioux bow. I made this for you.”

Little Bear took the bow Grandfather held out to him. He tried to find words to thank his grandfather, but there was a lump in his throat. For a terrible moment he thought he was going to cry. Any warrior in the Sioux camp would be proud to own a bow Great Bear had made. He held the bow towards his grandfather.

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