Daughter of the Eagle by Don Coldsmith

of the hill, across to the two together there at the edge of the meadow, and back here.”
    The riders nodded, mentally studying the terrain. It was good, Eagle Woman saw. The first leg of the course was slightly uphill, the turn fairly level. The two trees at the meadow’s edge presented no problem, but the final stretch of the race would be along the low-lying flat next to the stream. That area, she recalled, had several spots that were soft and boggy. It would be necessary to avoid places with poor footing.
    Now Standing Bird was holding a stone at arm’s length. “Are you ready?”
    Both riders nodded, and almost immediately the stone dropped.
    Gray Cat leaped forward, true to her name, and had taken
a lead before the larger horse gathered himself to spring. Eagle Woman clung to the rawhide girth and urged the mare forward with her heels.
    Behind her came the shouts of the spectators and the drumming of hooves. She could hear Long Walker’s big bay gaining, drawing closer. Then the stallion’s head came into the corner of her vision, beside her right knee.
    The animal’s nostrils were flared, ears flattened, and with every stride the bay drew forward. Now even, now ahead, and Eagle Woman was looking at the massive driving muscles of the stallion’s hind quarters.
    The first tree loomed ahead, and the bay stallion swung wide around it, Long Walker fighting to turn the animal. This was what Eagle Woman had hoped for. Quickly she kneed the gray mare close to the tree, turning sharply, pivoting inside the arc of the larger animal’s turn.
    The girl drummed heels into the mare’s flanks and sprinted toward the second turn, the two trees. Again the bay stallion came from behind with his longer stride, passing the gray to reach the turning point first. Long Walker had better control now, and the stallion did not lose so much ground on the turn. The two started to press for the final stretch at almost the same instant, neck and neck.
    Eagle Woman’s heart sank as the bay started to pull ahead. She saw no way her smaller mare could make up the lost distance.
    Then the big stallion began to strike the heavy going in the low area near the stream. Great chunks of mud flew high in the air as the animal lunged forward, fighting the sticky soil with every stride. Eagle Woman had the advantage of seeing where the other horse had struck soft footing, and now she pulled slightly to the left, away from the stream. As the stallion floundered and struggled in the uneven turf, the gray swept past and into the lead.
    To Long Walker’s credit, he did assess the situation rapidly and correct his course, but it was too late. There was no way in which he could now overtake the sprinting Gray
Cat. The animals swept across the finish line only a stride apart, and Eagle Woman had won.
    The crowd was cheering wildly, and the girl turned her sweating horse to trot back toward where Standing Bird waited. Surely, now, the Challenge was over. She had won at three of the four contests. Walker would concede, and they would be friends again.
    Smiling, she faced the young man as the two drew up before the Elk-dog leader. To her surprise, Long Walker’s face was dark with anger. His expression said clearly that he was not ready to quit.
    â€œThe next contest,” Walker snapped irritably, “is mine!”

11
    Standing Bird was becoming uneasy about the progress of this Challenge. At the present stage of events, one of the adversaries should be ready to concede, but there was no sign of weakening on the part of either. Here were two proud and stubborn young people, neither willing to relinquish a principle. Aiee , it was a worrisome thing.
    Eagle Woman had bested her challenger in the past three contests, but the next was to be of Long Walker’s choosing—and he was angry now. He was practically shouting at the girl.
    â€œYou think it is amusing to do the things warriors do, as a game. I