When Kaya And her family rode over the hill in to Wallowa, The Valley of the Winding Waters, her horse pricked up her ears and whinnied. Answering whinnies came from the large herd grazing nearby. Kaya stroked the smooth shoulder of her horse.

“Go easy, Steps High,” she said softly. “We’ll be there soon.”

It was midsummer, the season when salmon swam upstream to the lake to lay their eggs. Many bands of Nimíipuu gathered here each year to catch and dry the salmon. Kaya and her family were traveling with several other families from Salmon River Country to join the fishing. Kaya loved these reunions with her grandparents and her many other relatives, old and young—all the children were like brothers and sisters to one another.

Steps High whinnied again and began to prance, stepping high just like her name. Kaya held tight to the lead rope of the old pony that her sister Speaking Rain rode. A sickness in Speaking Rain’s eyes had caused her to lose her sight.

“Your horse wants to run!” Speaking Rain said to Kaya.

As if the horse understood Speaking Rain’s words, Steps High tossed her head and pawed the ground. Kaya rubbed Steps High’s sleek neck. “If only we could race, I know we’d beat all the others!”

Eetsa, Kaya’s mother, turned to look Kaya in the eye. “I’ve told you before not to boast,” she said firmly. “Our actions speak for us. Our deeds show our worth. Let that be your lesson, Kaya.”

Kaya pressed her lips together—she knew Eetsa was right.

***

When Kaya and her family rode up, her grandmother, Aalah, was waiting at the doorway of her family’s tepee. Aalah stepped forward. Her face was creased with age, and little pockmarks, like fingerprints, covered her cheeks.

“Tawts may-we!” she said. “Welcome, all of you!” Smiling, she hugged Kaya and Speaking Rain as soon as they climbed off their horses. Kaya’s twin brothers, Sparrow and Wing Feather, giggled as they scampered to hide behind a travois and peeked at Aalah, their dark eyes gleaming.

“Look how these boys have grown,” Aalah said as the twins ran from their hiding spot into her outstretched arms. “So full of laughter and tricks! Keep a sharp eye on these little ones, Kaya.”

Kaya nodded. Her little brothers were harder to herd than wild ponies! They ran everywhere and were curious about everything.

Kaya turned and saw her father, Toe-ta, gazing at the herd of sleek horses, some of them spotted, in the wide meadow. Perhaps Toe-ta was thinking of trading for some of the horses, or of the races they’d have. He was an expert horseman. Often he won races on his fleet-footed stallion, Runner.

Kaya was certainly thinking about horse races. For a long time she’d imagined being in one on her adored Steps High. She knew Steps High was fast, but also young and untested. Toe-ta had told her that Steps High wasn’t ready to race yet.

Kaya and her older sister Brown Deer carried their bundles into the tepee and placed them across from where their grandparents slept. Speaking Rain stacked the bundles neatly along the wall of the tepee. It was always packed full when they gathered here. But Kaya liked it crowded and cozy, and the tule mats that covered the tepee let in cool breezes and light.

After the women and girls had put everything in order around the tepee, Eetsa allowed Kaya to take Speaking Rain and the little boys to play. “Remember, it’s your job to look after your brothers carefully,” she reminded Kaya.

Kaya knew there were dangerous animals about. She also knew about the Stick People—small mischievous people who might lure a child to wander too far away into the woods. “Aa-heh,” Kaya said. “I will.”

She led Speaking Rain and the twins to a group of boys and girls gathered in the shade beside the river. Raven, a boy a little older than Kaya, was playing a game with a length of hemp cord.

“Here’s what happened when Coyote went to put up his tepee,” Raven said. The twins watched, wide-eyed, as Raven’s fingers flashed, weaving the cord into the shape of a tepee. Then, with a tug, he made the tepee collapse. “Coyote worked too fast!” he said. “He didn’t tie the poles properly, and his tepee fell down on him!” Everyone laughed and the twins squealed at the fun.

Raven leaned back on his elbows in the thick grass. “I see you have a new horse, Little Sister,” he said to Kaya. “She’s a pretty one.”

“She’s the prettiest horse in the whole herd!” Kaya said. She couldn’t disguise her pride. Steps High wasn’t large, only about thirteen hands high. She had a black head and chest, a white rump with black spots on it, and a white star on her forehead. “She’s fast, too,” Kaya added. That wasn’t boasting, she thought—just saying what was true.

Fox Tail squatted beside her. He was a bothersome boy who could be rude. He always followed Raven, trying to impress the older boy. “Your horse looks skittish to me,” he said to Kaya. “Why would your father give you a horse like that?”

“Toe-ta didn’t choose my horse,” Kaya said. “My horse chose me.”

Fox Tail laughed and slapped his leg. “Your horse chose you? How?”

“One day I was riding by the herd with Toe-ta,” Kaya said. “A filly kept nickering to me. So I whistled to her. She followed me. She came up to me and rubbed her head against my leg. Toe-ta said that meant she wanted to be my horse. He worked with me so I could ride her.”

“Is that a true story?” Fox Tail demanded.

“Ask my father if that’s true,” Kaya said.

“I believe you,” Raven said. “But you say she’s fast. Should I believe that, too?”

“I haven’t raced her yet, but I’ve run her many times,” Kaya said. “She glides over the ground like the shadow of an eagle.”

Fox Tail jumped to his feet. “Like an eagle—big talk!” he said. “Let’s race our horses and see if yours flies like you claim she does!”

Kaya had an uneasy feeling. I shouldn’t have boasted about her speed, she thought. I’ve never raced her. “My horse is tired now,” she said hesitantly.

“She’s not too tired for one short race,” Fox Tail insisted. “Maybe your horse isn’t so fast, after all.”

Kaya felt her face grow hot. Her horse was as swift as the wind! She was sired by Toe-ta’s fine stallion, Runner.

Kaya stood up. “Speaking Rain, could you take care of the twins for me?” she asked. “I know it’s my job, but I want to race.”

Speaking Rain was braiding strands of grass into bracelets for the little boys. “I’ll try, but sometimes they play tricks on me.”

“I’ll only be gone a little while,” Kaya assured her.

***

Kaya, Raven, and Fox Tail got on their horses and rode up to the raised plain at the end of the lake. Often people held celebrations and races here on the level ground, but today Kaya and the boys were alone.

Now that she’d decided to race, Kaya was eager to begin. Steps High seemed eager, too. When Fox Tail’s roan horse came close, Steps High arched her neck and flattened her ears. When Raven’s chestnut horse passed her, she trotted faster.

Raven reined in his horse. “We’ll start here. When I give the signal, we’ll race until we pass that boulder at the far end of the field.” He held his hand high. Then he brought it down and they were off!

The boys took the lead, stones spurting from under their horses’ hooves. They lay low on their horses, with their weight forward. They ran neck and neck.

Steps High bolted after them but swung out too wide. Kaya pressed her heels into Steps High’s sides. Then she gave Steps High her head, and her horse sprang forward.

Kaya thrilled to feel her horse gather herself, lengthen out, and gallop flat out. She was running as she’d never run before. Her long strides were so smooth that she seemed to be floating, her hooves barely touching the earth. Her dark mane whipped Kaya’s face. Grit stung Kaya’s lips. She clung to her horse, barely aware that they’d caught the other horses until they passed them. She and Steps High were in the lead!

Suddenly, Steps High began to buck! She plunged, head down, heels high. Kaya grasped the horse’s mane and hung on. She bit her tongue and tasted blood. Steps High bucked again!

Raven quickly spun his horse around. He was beside Steps High in an instant and grabbed the reins. He pulled the horse sharply to him, and in the same motion, he halted his own horse. Steps High skidded to a standstill, foam lathering her neck. Kaya slid off.

Steps High’s eyes were wild. For a moment she seemed never to have been tamed at all. Kaya’s legs were shaking badly, but her first thought was to calm her horse. She began to stroke Steps High’s trembling head and neck.

Fox Tail came galloping back. “I knew that horse was skittish!” he cried. “She just proved it.”

“She proved she’s fast, too,” Raven said.

Kaya wanted to thank Raven for coming to her aid, but her wounded pride was a knife in her chest. She could hardly get her breath. Leading her horse slowly to cool her down, Kaya silently walked away from the boys.

When Kaya had rubbed down Steps High, she turned her horse out to graze. Then she started back through the woods, heading toward the river.

Her feelings were all tangled up like a nest of snakes. She was excited that Steps High had run so fast, but she was disappointed that her horse had broken her training. Kaya was relieved that she hadn’t been bucked off, but she wished the boys hadn’t seen her lose control. She knew she shouldn’t have boasted, but she also wished she could have made good on her boast and won the race.

When Kaya glanced up from nursing her hurt feelings, Fox Tail was coming down the trail toward her on foot. He stopped right in front of her. “You told us your horse chose you,” he said with a smirk. “Would you choose her after the way she tried to buck you off today?”

“She’s the best horse ever!” Kaya said. “She can run faster than your horse, and I can run faster than you, too. Want to race me right now?”

Fox Tail cocked his head. “The first one to the riverbank wins!” he cried. He turned and sprinted away down the path.

For a little while Kaya was right on his heels. Then Fox Tail left the path, leaped over a fallen log, and took off through the woods. He must know a shortcut, Kaya thought. She followed him.

But she couldn’t keep him in sight because he jagged in and out of shadows. Was that his dark head beyond the bushes? Now she was uncertain which way to go. She stopped to listen for the sound of the river as her guide.

She stood in a gloomy clearing surrounded by black willows. She listened for rushing water. There was only silence. No wind blew in the leaves, no flies buzzed. All Kaya could hear was her heartbeat.

Then a twig snapped behind her. She whirled around. Did something just duck behind that tree? The shadows around her seemed to waver and sway. Was it the Stick People? Had they led her to this part of the woods?

Kaya held her breath. She knew the Stick People were cunning and crafty. They were strong, too. She’d heard they could carry off a baby and leave it a long way from its mother.

A flock of jays cawed—or was it the Stick People signaling to her? They seemed to be saying, “Forgot! Forgot!” Kaya shivered. What had she forgotten?

Then she gasped. She’d forgotten her little brothers! Kaya should never have given her job to Speaking Rain. The little boys were four winters old, just the right age for mischief. Kaya must get back to them at once, before they got into danger.

She knew she must leave a gift for the Stick People in return for their help. They became angry with people who didn’t treat them respectfully. She found rose hips in the bag she wore on her belt and placed them on the moss. Then she began running back the way she’d come.