The last thing that Small Bear would admit to was being lost. However he did admit to himself that he wasn’t exactly sure where he was just now. But that would change. He was Lakota and they always found their way. True he had only seen enough winters to count on both hands and two more fingers but he was approaching manhood and was keen that it should arrive swiftly so that he could hunt and fight like the men in the village, including his father and two elder brothers. He felt anger rising inside of him as he remembered how he had got here. The anger should have been aimed at himself for his stupidity but he would never admit to that. Instead he blamed the pony he had taken from the herd. He had not even known whom it belonged to, let alone asked permission, when he had chosen it to carry him away from the village. How was he to know that the stupid animal would bolt at the first sign of a snake and tear along with Small Bear hanging on for grim death? The ride had seemed to last for half a day before the pony had finally thrown Small Bear from his back and continued to gallop away. Small Bear decided there and then that that was not the type of pony he would be choosing when the time came.
   Carefully, he felt himself all over. He was sure nothing was broken, that was lucky, and he was beginning to get back the wind that had been knocked from his body. He made to stand up and it was then that the pain hit him. He felt tears spring into his eyes, quickly cursed himself, wiped his eyes and told himself he was nearly a man. The tears of childhood were for him no more. The only time his eyes would water in the future would be due to the cold wind of winter. This decision did not help his predicament however and he tried again to rise. Again the pain coursed through him and he fell to the ground. His right leg was obviously broken but low down where he had not felt it.

   Small Bear allowed a small finger of doubt to run up his spine and enter his brain. If he could not walk he could not find his way to the village again. He raised himself up enough to see over the tall grass, looking for a tree or bush but there were none in sight. Only the waving prairie grass stretched between him and the horizon in all directions. If he could have found a tree he would have fashioned himself a crutch to enable him to walk.    His stomach rumbled and he felt the first pangs of hunger come upon him and his mouth was dry. He had brought a water canteen with him but no food and anyway the canteen was now tied to the pony’s mane and could be anywhere.
    He was not overly worried however. His mother would be sure to worry at his disappearance and make his father and brothers search for him. More than likely all the available men in the village would aid in the search. 
   He looked into the sky, at the position of Wi, his brother the sun. It was getting late but at least he knew in which direction his village lay. His mother would probably already be fretting and restless. He pulled himself up slightly onto his hands and knees and began to crawl in the direction of home. He had to stop frequently as this was very tiring and the pain in his leg was very bad, but he moved onwards as best he could. The sun was setting ahead of him and the light was fading fast but still he kept moving as best he could as long as there was a little light to see by, a small beacon to steer him home. At last he could move no more. The fatigue and pain were too much and the sun had disappeared completely.  He looked up again but there was no sign of a moon this night. Only darkness and the silence of the prairie surrounded him.

    Once he had stopped moving he was more conscious of the hunger and thirst. Nagging at him like bad wives, these feelings were worse than the pain in his leg. He looked down and noticed the swelling in his leg. If nothing else, it located the break for him, just above the ankle. Once he got back to the village the Shaman would be able to fix that easily enough. It would restrict his movements for a while but not hold back his plans for too long. By winter he would be riding with a war party, he was sure. He would rest for the night and carry on his arduous crawl tomorrow, as soon as the sun rose to give him some light.
    The night air was chilly but he curled into a ball and tried to sleep. Sleep however was not going to be his friend tonight. The pain was intense at times. As soon as he started to drift off his leg would start to hurt worse and it jolted him into wakefulness. He had just given up the idea of sleep when he heard the whispering in the grass, fairly close to him. He could not make out the words, not even the language and fear sprang into his heart. Maybe some enemies were close by, maybe making their way to his village. He froze; scarcely daring to breath and his ears became alert to the slightest sound. There! He heard it again. More the impression of a whisper than an actual vocalisation. It must be the wind in the grass playing tricks on him. He remained still as a rock, listening, hearing only his own heart thumping in his chest. Suddenly the whisper came again, this time from behind him and he instinctively turned around quickly causing the pain to hit him again. With his pain he let out a grunt and instantly slapped his hand over his mouth. The soft whispering began again and now he could make it out clearly.

    “Mato Chikala, Mato Chikala.�?Small Bear gave a grunt of surprise and sat bolt upright. True the language was Lakota and true they, (whoever they were,) were calling him by name but it did not seem right. If it were a search party from the village they would bring fire to light their way and would not whisper his name. He suddenly remembered all the stories he had been told of the evil spirits who walk at night, those who take the souls of men and steal them away, leaving behind an empty shell. He backed off slightly, not that there was anywhere to go, and he offered up a silent prayer to Wakan Tanka to keep these evil spirits away from him. <
   Suddenly the grass in front of him parted and a wolf’s head appeared before him. It took all of his courage to keep calm, and as he stayed calm he remembered that wolves had never been known to attack man. The wolf was a magnificent specimen, almost white and there appeared to be an aura around his body, as if an inner light were showing through. Obviously a trick of the night. The wolf looked down his snout at Small Bear, his bright eyes appearing to glow in the darkness. When he appeared to be satisfied with what he was seeing he yawned slowly and widely before laying down on the grass. The grass beside him rustled and a hare appeared beside the wolf. Again he looked Small Bear over and then lay down beside the wolf. With a fluttering of wings and a stream of subdued light a hawk joined these strange beings. The hawk landed on the ground beside the wolf, again looked Small Bear up and down and then settled down on the other side of the wolf to the hare. Small Bear realised that he was simply sitting there mouth wide open and he quickly covered his mouth lest his spirit escape. He felt no fear, but did feel incredibly calm. Almost serene.

   The wolf did not move, did not open his mouth, but Small Bear knew that the words in his head were coming from the wolf. This realisation did not even appear strange to the boy, merely the way things should be.
   “You are Small Bear the Hunkpapa.�?said the voice, gentle and yet full of the potential for violence that lurked within the wolf’s breast. Small Bear nodded.
   “You are a long way from home�? Said another voice within his head. A smaller voice this time, almost squeaky in tone. Small Bear realised that this was the hare speaking.
   “Yes�? he managed to reply, “my pony threw me and my leg is broken. Until people from the village come to find me I am going to crawl home. Who are you? Are you good spirits or bad?�?BR>   “Who we are is unimportant for now�? This was the wolf’s voice again. “It is you who are important�? The wolf turned and nodded at the hawk who jumped up onto Small Bear’s leg and appeared to be inspecting the break area. 
   The pain increased in his leg and the feel of the hawk’s talons gave him discomfort. If the hawk chose to he could dig those talons deep into the flesh. Small Bear did not flinch or pull his leg away but sat watching the hawk.
   “This is a clean break.�?A third voice this time, rasping slightly and yet with a hidden smoothness. Obviously the hawk. “I can fix this easily enough�?BR>   Small Bear looked unconvinced about that last statement and had to say something.
   “How can you fix a broken leg? You have no splints; you have no magic like the Shaman in our village. I am not even sure that you are really here at all. Am I supposed to believe in you and this trickery?�?/B>
   “You must believe in us.�?The voice of the wolf again. “You must believe in us because to do so is to believe in yourself. We are within you and, as you grow to adulthood this thing will become apparent to you and to those around you. Never forget Small Bear that which I am telling you now. Never forget that your friends are with you and within you for all time.�?BR>   Suddenly Small Bear awoke with a start. He had fallen asleep after all. He recalled the dream of last night and laughed softly to himself. He suddenly realised that there was no pain and he looked down at his leg. The swelling and the bruising had gone. He tried to stand and found he could do so easily. He nearly fell over again with the sheer joy he found from being able to put weight on the leg. His young brain raced. Had his leg been broken or simply twisted? No it was a break, he was sure of it. He sat down hard upon the ground, the thoughts tearing around his head too much for him. 
   He suddenly noticed something on the ground beside him almost lost in the grass. A small pile of things that would mean nothing to anyone but him. A tuft of hare fur, the feather from a hawk and a wolf’s dew claw were there as clear as the new light of the day. He picked up these things and held them tightly in his hand. He checked his bearings and, walking swiftly, set out for home