He heard a shout. Broken Leg galloped up, bow in his hand, an arrow fitted against the string. The ranger whirled and hastily fired his pistol. Broken Leg’s arrow drove into the young Texan’s leg. With a cry of pain, the ranger dropped his rifle and bent over in the saddle, losing his hold on the reins. His horse broke into a run, away from the fight.

Instantly Broken Leg was on the ground. He tugged at the pony’s rein but received no response. The horse was dead. He pushed against the body until Buffalo Caller was able to pull his leg free.

“Quickly!” Broken Leg said. “Up behind me before more Texans come.”

Buffalo Caller hopped, for the leg felt numb and threatened to crumple beneath him. He retrieved his bow and shield from the ground as well as the rifle the ranger had dropped. Broken Leg jumped onto his horse’s back, then leaned down, arm extended, helping Buffalo Caller up behind him. Looking back over his shoulder, Buffalo Caller could see that the rangers and the warriors had become scattered over a broad area. Firing was sporadic. The fight was winding down to a draw, neither side a clear winner.

It was just as well. The stolen horses were badly scattered too, but as the warriors regrouped they could probably recover a substantial number. The young men had had the taste of battle they had wanted, so they would be content despite losing some of their horses.

Buffalo Caller was relieved to see no sign of pursuit. Several warriors had broken away from the engagement and were coming up behind. Jackrabbit was among them. The rest would probably be on their way shortly as they extricated themselves.

He asked Broken Leg, “The ranger you wounded . . . did you see his hair?”

“For a moment. I thought I would have his scalp, but I only wounded him. It was more important that I rescue you.”

“His hair was red.”

“That I saw. I thought it was colored with clay.”

“I have had bad dreams about a red-hair. He spoiled my medicine. He would have killed me had you not come.”

“Perhaps it was your medicine that brought me.”

Buffalo Caller had not considered it in that light. “Perhaps. I am glad you persuaded me to let you come, old friend. But for you, I would be with my grandfathers.”

Broken Leg agreed. He would make much of it when they returned to the main camp and the boasting began. Buffalo Caller could not begrudge him the glory.

Broken Leg said, “My medicine was good today.”

Buffalo Caller shuddered, the dreams heavy on his mind. “If ever I see a red-hair again, I hope you will be with me. His medicine is stronger than mine.”