Andy had once assumed that the Comanches had been in Texas since the mountains were built and the rivers set to running, but Preacher Webb had told him it was not true. They had migrated south from somewhere far up in the big shining mountains in the very early 1700s. Somewhere, probably by stealing from the Spaniards, they had acquired the horse and soon were able to roam wherever and however far they wanted to go. They had become the most fearsome warriors on the plains.

Martinez said, “First we were Spanish. Then there was war between Mexico and Spain, and they told us we were Mexicans. Then there was war between Mexico and the Estados Unidos, and they told us we were Ameri-cans. Always, people from outside come and try to tell us who we are. We know who we are.

“Do you wonder that we do not trust people from the outside? They never come with good news. Always they come to take something, like the Americanos and the Texans.”

“The Comanches do the same thing, don’t they?”

“In the past. But the way to make an enemy not be your enemy is to trade with him. Get him things he cannot get from somebody else. Then your enemy is his enemy. Long time ago we had much trouble with the Apaches. Not much anymore. They are afraid the Comanches will come and help us.”

“But you trade with the Apaches too, don’t you?”

“Better to trade than to fight. The Indian thinks he is different, but he is like all other men. Get him to want things. Get him enough of these things to keep him wanting more and he will do as you bid him. You think these oxen want to stand and wait for the yoke each morning? They do it because they know they will be fed. Feed them and they will serve you. Stop feeding them, and soon they are gone.”

“You ever quit bringin’ goods to the Indians, they’re apt to come after you with a scalpin’ knife.”

“A little danger is to life as salt is to the meat.”

Andy could see a serious flaw in Martinez’s reasoning. “When you trade with the Comanches and Kiowas for whatever they steal out of Texas, don’t you know that makes them raid and steal even more?”

“It is for the Texans to take care of themselves. When they came into our valley in the last war they fancied themselves better than anyone else. Damned greasers, they called us. Took what they wanted, did as they pleased. What is it to us if the Indians make them fight a little?”

“My friends are Texans. How is it you agreed to try to rescue the boy for them?”

“I am a merchant. I sell what others want to buy. The boy is trade goods, like coffee and sugar.”