They had found warmth; but Salazar had just reminded them that the hardest part of the journey had not even begun. Some of the men hunched closer to the campfires, holding out their hands to the warmth-they wanted to hug the warmth, keep it as long as they could. Few of them slept-they wanted to sit close to the fires and enjoy every bit of warmth left to them. They wanted the warmth to last forever, or at least until summertime. Johnny Carthage, terrified that he would fall so far behind that Long Bill Coleman couldn't find him and rescue him, asked over and over again, through the night, how long it would be until morning.

Informed by the old jefe that there was neither food nor water enough for many horses in the barren region that awaited them, Salazar kept only one horse-his own-and traded several for two donkeys and as much provender as the donkeys could carry. On the morning of departure, abruptly, he decided to reduce the force to twenty-five men. He reasoned that twenty-five could probably hold off the Apaches, if they attacked-more than twenty-five would be impossible to provision on such a journey. The Texans alone would account for most of the provisions the donkeys could carry.What that meant was that the Texans would slightly outnumber his own force; and the Texans, man for man, were stronger than his troops.

"Senores, you will have to be tied," he informed the Texans, when they were led out into the cold air. "I regret it, but it is necessary. I can afford no risks on this journey-crossing the dead man's walk is risk enough."

Bigfoot swelled up at this news-Gus thought he was going to make a fight. But he held on to his temper and let his wrists be bound with rawhide thongs, when his turn came. The other men did the same. Even Call was tied, though Matilda lodged a strong protest.

"This boy's hurt-he can't do nothing-why tie him?" she asked.

"Because he has fury in him," Captain Salazar said. "I saw it myself. He almost killed Colonel Cobb while he was riding in our General's buggy. If I had to choose only one of you to tie, I would tie Corporal Call."

"I suppose that's a compliment, ain't it?" Gus said.

"I don't care what it is," Call said. Since the old woman had treated him with her ointment he could at least stretch his muscles without groaning in pain. He glared at the young Mexican who tied him, although he knew the boy was simply doing his job.

Many of the women of San Saba broke into tears when they saw the Texans being tied. Some of them had formed motherly attachments to one prisoner or another. Some pressed additional food, tortillas or pieces of jerky into the men's hands as they were marched through the street, out of the village.

The fertile country lasted only three miles. By the fourth mile, only the smallest scrub grew. Soon even that disappeared-before them, as far ahead as they could see, was a land where nothing grew.

"This is the dead man's walk," Captain Salazar said. "Now we will see who wants to live and who wants to die."

"I intend to live," Gus said, at once.

Call said nothing.

"Even the Apaches won't cross it," Salazar said.

One-eyed Johnny Carthage looked at the emptiness before them, and was filled with dread.

"What's the matter, Johnny?" Long Bill said, noting his friend'shaggard look. "It's warmer now, and we got food. We'll get across this like we got across the plains."

Johnny Carthage heard what Long Bill said, but didn't believe him. He looked at the great space before them and shivered_not from cold, but from fear.

He felt that he was looking at his death.

ON THE FOURTH NIGHT out from San Saba, a warm night that left the men encouraged, Captain Salazar's horse and both donkeys disappeared. Some of their provisions were still on the donkeys- they had traveled late and had only unpacked what they needed for the evening meal, corn mostly, with a little dried mutton.

Captain Salazar had tethered his horse so close to his pallet that the lead rope was in reach of his hand as he slept. He had only to turn over to reassure himself that his horse was there. But when he did turn over, in the grey dawn, all he had left was the end of the lead rope, which had been cut. The horse was gone.

"I thought you said Indians didn't come here," Bigfoot said, annoyed. He had wondered at the laxness of the Mexicans, in setting no guard. The foot soldiers had simply lain down and slept where they stopped, with no thought of anything but rest. The Texans did the same, but the Texans were tied-guard duty was not their responsibility.

Captain Salazar was silent, shocked by what had happened andwhat it meant. He stared for a long time across the dry plain, as if hoping to see his horse and the donkeys, grazing peacefully. But all he saw was the barren earth, with an edge of sun poking above it to the east.

Bigfoot had to repeat his statement.

"I guess those Indians that don't come here took your horse," he said.

"Gomez took my horse," Salazar said. "Gomez is not like the rest. He has no fear of this country. No one else would be so bold."

"That rope he cut was about three feet from your throat," Bigfoot remarked. "He could have cut your throat if he'd wanted to."

Captain Salazar was looking at the cut end of the lead rope. A scalpel could not have cut it more cleanly. Bigfoot was right: Gomez could easily have cut his throat.

"He could have, but there would have been little sport," he said. "We must walk."

By midmorning all the men felt the air, which had been warm, turn chill. The north wind picked up.

"Oh God, I don't want it to get cold," Johnny Carthage said. "I wouldn't mind to die if I could just do it warm." The great dread had not left him.

"Shut up your complaining, it's just a breeze so far," Long Bill said. "I carried you once and I'll carry you again, if it comes to that."

"No you won't, Bill-you can't carry me no hundred miles," Johnny said, but the wind was already howling at their backs, and no one heard him.

Call walked between Matilda and Gus-he was still unsteady on his feet and was swept, at times, by waves of fever that made his vision swirl. Matilda was the only one of the Texans who had not been tied. Captain Salazar had come to like her-from time to time, she consented to play cards with him. He would not fraternize to that extent with the prisoners, and his own men were mostly too young to be good cardplayers. An old bear hunter had taught him rummy-it was mostly rummy that he played with Matilda Jane.

As they were stumbling along, pushed by the cold north wind, Gus happened to look back, a habit he got into after his encounter with the grizzly bear. He could not get Bigfoot's story about thet man who had been stalked while fishing out of his mind. It was worrisome that bears could be so stealthy.

When he glanced over his shoulder he got a bad start, for something large and brown was hurtling down toward them. Whatever it was was still far away-he could only see a shape, but it was a brown shape, the very color of a bear.

"Captain, get the rifles!" he yelled, in consternation. "There's a bear after us."

For a moment, the whole troop believed him-no one could clearly determine what was moving toward them, but something was, and fast. Salazar lined his men up and had them ready, their guns primed.

"I wish you'd let me shoot, Captain," Bigfoot said. "Your boys are so scared I expect half of them will miss."

"I expect it, too," Salazar said. He walked over to the nearest soldier and took his musket. He walked over to Bigfoot, untied his hands, and handed him the musket.

"The last time I handed a Texan a gun, he shot me," Salazar reminded him. "Please be honorable, Mr. Wallace. Shoot the bear. If we kill it we will have meat enough to make it across the dead man's walk."

Just then, Gus saw something that was even more unnerving: the bear leapt high in the air. It seemed to fly for several yards, before coming back to earth.

"Good Lord, it's flying," he said.

As he said it, the shape flew again-the whole troop was transfixed, even Bigfoot. He had heard many bear stories, but no one had ever told him that grizzly bears could fly. He squatted and leveled his musket, though the bear-if it was a bear-was still far away.

Some of the young Mexican soldiers became so nervous that they ' began firing when the hurtling brown object was still two hundred yards away. Salazar was irritated. The wind whirled dust from the plain high, so that it was hard to see anything clearly.

"Don't fire until I say fire," he said. "If you all fire now you will be out of bullets when the bear gets here, and he will eat us all."

"I'm saving my bullet," Bigfoot said. "I intend to shoot him right between the eyes-that's the only sure way to stop a bear."

Just then, the hurtling brown object collided with a hump of rocks and flew high in the air, above the dust. For the first time Bigfoot saw it clearly and he immediately lowered his rifle. "Boys, old Gomez has got us rattled," he said. "That ain't a bear-that's a tumbleweed."

Salazar looked disgusted.

"Seven of you shot, and the tumbleweed is still coming," he said.

"Why, it's the size of a house," Gus said. He had never imagined a weed could grow so big. It hurtled by the company, rolling over and over, as fast as a man could run. From time to time it hit a bump or a small rock and sailed into the air. Soon it was a hundred yards to the south, and then it vanished, obscured by the blowing dust.