Andy said, “That one is called Tonkawa Killer. Always he hates me. Calls me Texan boy. Wants me dead.”

“Damned sure wants me dead. Look at him.”

“When I break my leg, Tonkawa Killer there. Says it is good I die. Hit me with war club.”

“He don’t look happy to see you back.”

“Afraid of my brother. He thinks I tell.”

“You’re goin’ to, aren’t you?”

“First I hear him talk. Then maybe I tell.”

The Comanches conferred among themselves. Andy listened without comment. When the conference broke up, four of the warriors left the others and came to Rusty. They pointed northward and motioned for him to get on his horse.

Andy said, “The others go hunt some more. These take us to camp. Wait for my brother.”

Rusty noted darkly that Tonkawa Killer was one of the four. “He looks like he might change his mind and kill both of us.”

“Too afraid of my brother.”

“Your brother must be a curly wolf.”

Andy did not know the term. “No, his name means Steals the Ponies.”

The warriors did not tie Rusty’s hands. In their place, he thought, he might have done so. On the other hand, there would be no point in his trying to run. Where could he go? They would kill him in a minute.

He had been in enough Indian fights that the thought of another held no terrors, but never had he found himself trapped and helpless like this.

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.