"This boy's lucky," Sam said. "The lance missed the bone."

"He might be lucky, but we ain't," Major Chevallie said. He was pacing around nervously.

"What I can't figure out is why Buffalo Hump would be sitting out there by himself," he added.

"He was sitting on a blanket," Gus said. Sam had finally quit poking him with the big needle-that and the fact that he was alive made him feel a little better. Besides that, he was back in camp. He felt sure he was going to survive, and wanted to be helpful if he could.

"I ran right past him, that's why he took after me," Gus said. "He had a terrible big hump."

Gus felt that he might want to relax and snooze, but that plan was interrupted by the old Comanche woman, who suddenly began to wail. The sound of her high wailing gave everybody a start.

"What's wrong with her-now she's howling," Long Bill asked.

Shadrach went over to the old woman and spoke with her in Comanche, but she continued to wail. Shadrach waited patiently until she stopped.

"She's a vision woman," Shadrach said. "My grandma was a vision woman too. She would let out wails when she had some bad vision, just like this poor old soul."

Call wanted the old woman to quiet down-her wailing had a bad effect on the whole camp. Her wails were as sad as the sound of the wind as it sighed over the empty flats. He didn't want to hear such disturbing sounds, and none of the other Rangers did, either.Shadrach still squatted by the old woman, talking to her in her own tongue. The wind blew swirls of fine sand around them.

"Well, what now? What's she saying?" Major Chevallie asked.

"She says Buffalo Hump is going to cut off her nose," Shadrach said. "She was one of his father's wives-I guess she didn't behave none too well. Her people put her out to die, and Buffalo Hump heard about it. Now he wants to find her and cut off her nose."

"I'd think he had better things to do," the Major said. "She's old, she'll die. Why bother with her nose?"

"Because she behaved bad to his father," Shadrach said, a little impatiently. Major Chevallie's ignorance of Indian habits often annoyed him.

"I don't like it that he's out there," Long Bill said. "Once he cuts this old woman's nose off he might keep cutting. He might cut a piece or two off all of us, before he stops."

"Why, if you're worried, just go kill him, Bill," Bigfoot said.

"He's a swift runner, even with that hump," Gus informed them. "He almost caught me, and I'm fleet."

Major Chevallie kept pacing back and forth, his pistol cocked.

"Let's mount up and go," he said abruptly. "We're not in a secure position here-I believe it would be best to ride."

"Now, hold still," Shadrach insisted. "This is a vision woman talking. Let's see what else she has to say."

He went to the fire, poured some coffee in a tin cup, and handed it to the old woman. The Major didn't like it that Shadrach had ignored his order-but he took it. He sat down by Matilda, who was still in a heavy mood.

"I still don't see why he would go to so much trouble just to cut off an old woman's nose," he muttered, mainly to himself. Bigfoot Wallace heard him, though.

"You ain't a Comanche," Bigfoot said. "Comanches expect their wives to stay in the right tent."

Major Chevallie thought of his own dear wife, Jane. If it had not been for the scrape in Baltimore, he could be home with her right then; they might be nestled together, in a nice feather bed. How long would it be before he could return to their snug stone house in London County? Would he ever return to it, or to his ardent Jane? He felt low, very low. It was too dusty in Texas. Every bite of food he had attempted to eat, all day, had been covered with grit. The large whore beside him was rough; she would never smell as good as his Jane. But Matilda was there, and Jane wasn't. Matilda was likable, despite being rough; the Major was feeling desperate. The Comanche war chief was within earshot of his camp. A minute's relief with Matilda would be helpful, but of course it was not a time to suggest to the troop that he was unmilitary. It was clear already that Bigfoot and Shadrach had a low opinion of his leadership. Chevallie was an old name, much respected in the Tidewater, but it meant nothing west of the Pecos. Ability was all that counted, in the West, in such a country, among such men-out West the ability to waltz gracefully did not help a man keep his scalp.

The fact was, he himself had no great opinion of his own military skills. His three weeks at the Point had involved little study, and none that touched on the fine points of warfare with Comanche Indians.

Call went over and sat down by Gus-his friend seemed relaxed, if a little gaunt.

"I seen you in the lightning," Call said. "I seen he was after you. I shot, but I doubt I hit him. He was after you hard."

"Yes, and he nearly got me," Gus said.

"I told you to stay put," Call reminded him, but in a low voice. He didn't want the Major to know that Gus had wandered off from his post, although if he hadn't they might never have known that Buffalo Hump was nearby.

"I didn't find no gold mine, just a badger and that big Indian," Gus admitted. "He was just sitting there on a blanket. What was he doing just sitting there with all that lightning striking?"

When Shadrach finished talking to the old Comanche woman, he seemed a little agitated.

"What's the news, Shad?" Bigfoot asked. He could tell there was some news. Shadrach had his rifle in his hand and he was looking north.

"Bad news," Shadrach said. "We need to watch our hair for the next few days. If we don't, we won't be wearing it."

"Why, Shad, I always watch my hair," Bob Bascom said. Ezekiel whooped when he said it, and Josh Corn smiled. The reason for their merriment was that Bob Bascom had almost no hair to watch.He was bald, except for a few sprigs above his ears. Blackie Slidell was almost as bald-he had been heard to remark that any Indian scalping him would be mainly wasting his time.

"Old Buffalo Hump would need a magnifying glass if he was to attempt to scalp either one of us, Bob," Blackie observed dryly.

"That old woman says a war's coming," Shadrach said.

"Well, maybe she is a vision woman," the Major said. "General Scott has been talking about taking Mexico, I hear."

"No, not that war," Shadrach said. "She ain't talking about no white war. She says the Comanches mean to attack someplace down in Mexico-I guess that would be Chihuahua City."

"Chihuahua City? Indians?" the Major exclaimed. "It would take a good number of braves to attack a city that size."

"It might not take that many," Bigfoot said.

"Why not?" the Major asked.

"Comanches are scary," Bigfoot said. "One Comanche brave on a lean horse can scare all the white people out of several counties. Fifty Comanches could probably take Mexico City, if they made a good run at it."

"That old woman ain't talking about fifty, neither," Shadrach said. "She's talking about a passel-hundreds, I reckon."

"Hundreds?" the Major said, startled. Nobody, as far as he knew, had ever faced a force of hundreds of Comanches. Looking around at his troop-twelve men and one whore-he saw that most of the men were white knuckled with fear as they gripped their rifles. The thought of hundreds of Comanches riding as one force was nothing any commander would care to contemplate.

"That humpbacked man was there alone," Call said. He rarely spoke unless asked, but this time he thought he ought to remind the Major of what he had seen.

"It felt like fifty or a hundred, though, while he was after me," Gus said, sitting up.

"You said he was just sitting on a blanket?" Bigfoot asked.

"Yes, just sitting," Gus said. "He was on a little hill-I guess it was mostly just a hump of sand."

"Maybe he was waiting for Gomez," Bigfoot said. "That would explain my dream."

"No, that's wild," Shadrach said. "If he's got hundreds of warriors coming he wouldn't need to wait for no Apache.""I've dreamt prophecy before," Bigfoot insisted. "I think he was waiting for Gomez. I expect they mean to take Chihuahua City together and divide up the captives."