Andy feared she was not asleep. She might not sleep the rest of the night. He could not afford to wait too long. After a few minutes he began crawling again, inches at a time. Billy came along after him. It seemed an hour before the boy was out of the tepee. Andy cut the leather thong that bound Billy’s hands, then the one that tied his feet.

Billy recognized him in the dim light of the half moon. “Andy!”

Andy shushed him again and beckoned for him to follow. Billy was awkward on his feet. He fell to hands and knees. Being tied had cut his circulation and numbed his arms and legs. Andy lifted the boy up and carried him in the direction where Steals the Ponies would be waiting. Billy clung desperately to his neck.

Andy’s brother stood in the edge of the creek, holding four horses. He appeared much relieved. “It took you a long time,” he said. “I feared you had entered the wrong lodge.”

Billy reacted with fear to Steals the Ponies. Andy whispered, “Don’t be afraid. This is my brother.”

Billy did not understand that. Andy would explain it to him later, when they were far from here.

Steals the Ponies said, “Put the boy on this horse. He is one of best I have. I hope he can ride without a saddle.”

“He can. He will.”

Billy recognized his own pony and asked why he could not ride it. That was something else Andy would have to explain later. For the moment he said only, “This is your horse now.” He mounted Long Red.

Steals the Ponies swung up onto a third horse. He had a leather rope around the neck of Billy’s pony. “Remember,” he admonished, “follow the creek eastward. If the spirits are with us, it will be daylight before Fights with Bears knows the boy is gone. I will see that the pony leaves good, clear tracks for him to follow.”

Andy felt as if he would choke. The breach between him and The People, already broad, would be irretrievably unbridgeable after this.

He grasped his brother’s arm. “You have done a brave thing for me.”

“But it is the last thing I can ever do for you. With what you do tonight, you have chosen the white man’s road. You are no longer Comanche.”

“It is a hard thing to know that I may never see you again.”

Steals the Ponies’s voice was grave. “Perhaps we will see each other in another world, less troubled than this one. Now go. Do not look back.”

Andy did look back, once. He saw Steals the Ponies ride up out of the creek, leading Billy’s pony. Moving southward, he was quickly lost from sight.

Billy asked, “Why do we ride in the water?”

“So we don’t leave tracks.”

“Your brother leaves tracks.”

“So they will follow him, not us.”

“Are you takin’ me home, Andy?”

“That’s my intention.”

“They killed Granddaddy Vince.”