He rode beyond the herd to where Wolf That Limps was scouting out in front. He said, “We have entered the reserve. We must be watchful and not fall into the hands of the soldiers.”

It was well known that horseback troops of the White Father in Washington patrolled the perimeter of the Indian reserve, as much to protect their wards inside from hostile whites as to prevent those wards from slipping away and committing depredations. Buffalo Caller had only contempt for Indians who gave up their freedom and allowed themselves to be penned like cattle, accepting whatever paltry gifts the White Father deigned to give them. A real man would choose to range free, hunting buffalo, raiding his enemies, and living from the land, or he would die fighting, as wild horses sometimes died rather than submit to the rope. Moreover, Buffalo Caller was resentful because some of the reserve Indians had aided soldiers and rangers against those Comanches who still chose to remain outside, living in the old ways. Many a weeping widow had mutilated herself in mourning for husbands who died at the hands of these pet dogs from the reservation.

Most Texans could not distinguish between tribes. Reserve Indians who rode with them against the Comanches had to tie white cloths to their arms so the whites would not kill them by mistake. Buffalo Caller knew that most settlers believed the reserve Indians were taking advantage of their protected status to commit theft and murder in the settlements, then flee back to safety under the soldiers’ guardianship. The Texans were chafing at a chance for vengeance.

So was Buffalo Caller. He thought it a delicious irony that the whites themselves might give him that revenge.

Wolf That Limps said, “Would it not be much safer to go around the reserve? The soldiers do not range far. They would never see us.”

“If we are careful they will not see us anyway. But the Texans will follow the tracks. They will believe those who live on the reservation have made this raid. Sooner or later they will fall upon them with gun and knife. The ones who helped them against us will pay for what they did.”

“Are the whites so easily fooled?”

“They are bad-hearted people who do not know Comanche from Waco or Caddo or Kiowa. They will kill our enemies for us and believe they have done a great thing.”

The sun had not traveled much farther overhead when a warrior approached from the south in an easy lope. Buffalo Caller had sent him to watch the back trail.

“The Texans are coming,” Black Wing said, turning and pointing. “They follow the trail just as you wanted.”

“Onto the reserve?”

“Yes. But the horse soldiers will stop them soon. They also are coming.”

Buffalo Caller had not counted on the soldiers, but after a moment’s consideration he decided benevolent spirits were indeed riding with him today. It might be even better than he had planned if the soldiers and the Texans confronted one another. Perhaps some would be killed. Even if not, this would only anger the Texans more against the traitorous people who lived on the reserve. One day soon the Texans would rise in fury, and the Comanches would have vengeance upon those who had brought the rangers and the soldiers against them.