Only a damn fool. . ., he thought. Yet he knew he would take the same risk again if he felt it necessary for Andy.

The Indian camp was bustling with activity. Dogs barked at the incoming riders. Women were cutting buffalo meat into strips to be dried on racks hastily constructed of limbs and branches from trees along a nearby stream. Others cleaned the flesh from buffalo hides to be turned into robes and clothing and tepee coverings. The work stopped temporarily as women and children came to stare at the new arrivals. Tonkawa Killer shouted a few angry words. The crowd backed away but did not completely disperse.

Several women came and made a fuss over Andy. Everyone in camp seemed to know him. From their reactions, Rusty knew they had considered him forever lost. Only Tonkawa Killer appeared displeased at the boy’s apparent resurrection from among his forefathers. If hate-filled looks could kill, Andy would have died a hundred times.

The women brought freshly cooked meat. Andy accepted it with pleasure. He motioned for Rusty to join him. The meat was not thoroughly cooked, but Rusty was too hungry to be choosy.

The first hunting party arrived awhile before sundown. Andy listened to the conversation, then told Rusty they had located another herd of buffalo, but it was too late in the day to begin a fresh kill. They would return in the morning for the slaughter.

“My brother is with others. He comes soon.” Andy had a nervous eagerness about him. He walked to the edge of camp and stared off to the west. Rusty started to follow him but stopped when one of the warriors made a menacing gesture that told him to sit down. He sat.

There was no mistaking the arrival of Steals the Ponies. Apparently he had been told of Andy’s return, for he raced ahead of the other hunters and galloped into camp without regard for the dust he raised or the roasting meat that it settled upon. He leaped to the ground. Andy ran to him, showing but little of his limp. They threw their arms around each other.

Rusty had long been told that Indian men were too stoic to cry. He saw that he had been misinformed. Steals the Ponies pushed Andy out to arm’s length, tears in his eyes, and looked him over from head to foot as if he could not believe what he saw. Andy was telling him something in a language Rusty could not understand. He pointed to his leg, showing where it had been broken.

Tonkawa Killer broke into the joyous reunion. He pointed his finger at Andy, his voice loud and accusative. Whatever he said, it aroused anger and denial from Andy and a heated argument from Steals the Ponies. Watching, Rusty thought the quarreling men were about to come to blows. Steals the Ponies pushed himself in front of Andy and took a protective stance.

Tonkawa Killer pointed again, said a few words more, then turned on his heel and stalked away. Steals the Ponies shouted something after him, but Tonkawa Killer made a show of ignoring it. Several warriors followed him, evidently taking his side in the argument.