Comanche Moon

"When he was after me with his lance I thought he was as big as a god." "He's old," Call said. "He might have shrunk a little in his old age." "No, we just remember him as bigger than he was because he was so fierce and had that terrible war cry," Augustus said.

To Pea Eye it seemed that the discovery of Buffalo Hump's body had put the two captains into a kind of memory trance.

"He was the first Comanche I ever saw," Call remarked. "I remember when he came racing out of that gully with that dead boy behind him on his horse --I forget the boy's name." "Josh Corn was his name," Augustus said.

"He went into the bushes to take a shit and picked the wrong bunch of bushes to go into--it was the end of him." "This old man was gaunt," Call said. "I doubt he found much to eat, these last few years." Famous Shoes started to tell the two rangers that they should not be standing within the circle of black rocks as they talked. Buffalo Hump had made a death circle with the rocks, and it should be respected. But he had, himself, another concern which also involved respect. He wanted the great buffalo skull shield. He wanted the shield badly. It was just laying there, ignored by Blue Duck and ignored too by the rangers. Though he wanted it, Famous Shoes knew the shield should remain within the circle of rocks. If he himself took it the Comanches might find out and try to kill him because of what he had done. He knelt down and looked closely at the shield, knowing that it contained great power, but he was afraid to take it.

"We ought to get that lance out of him, if we can," Call said. He pulled, and then he and Augustus pulled together, but they soon saw that the task was hopeless. The lance point came free of the ground, but it did not come free of Buffalo Hump's body. It had gone through his hump, through his ribs, and through his chest.

"It's like a tree grew through him," Gus said.

"He was a great chief--he ought to be laid out proper, but there's now no way to do it with this lance sticking through him," Call said.

"Well, I ain't holding a funeral for him, he's killed too many of my friends," Augustus said. "I expect but for him Long Bill would be alive, and Neely Dickens and several more I could name." "I didn't mention a funeral," Call said.

"I just think any man ought to be laid out proper." He looked again at the body of Buffalo Hump and then, mindful that their task was not done, turned toward the horses. He didn't feel the relief he had always supposed he would feel, at the death of Buffalo Hump. The man who lay before him was no longer the terror of the plains-- he was just an old man, dead. Though they were in pursuit of Blue Duck, Call felt, for a moment, that there was little point in going on. He felt he had used up his energy. When he walked back to his horse he didn't, for a moment, have the strength to mount.

"Those were Comanches watching us at the lake," he told Gus. "I expect they'll find Buffalo Hump and do what's proper." Famous Shoes knew better. The two Comanches were of the Antelope band, and the Antelopes had always held aloof from the other tribes. Probably the warriors who watched them were too young to have heard of Buffalo Hump-- even if they rode over to look at the body, the deformity would scare them away. When they saw the hump they would think witchery was involved. They would want nothing to do with the old dead man with the ugly hump.

He himself wanted nothing to do with the Antelopes.

Though their country was poor and harsh, they were not broken men. He didn't know why the two warriors were watching the dry lake, but he was glad there were only two. Maybe the rest of the band were hunting somewhere. If more of them had been there they would probably have attacked.

Captain Call and Captain McCrae lingered by their horses; for some reason they were reluctant to mount and ride on, although their quarry, Blue Duck, was not many miles ahead.

The delay broke down Famous Shoes' resolve in regard to the shield. It was an important thing. None of the whites seemed to realize that; none of them had even picked it up, or looked at it. Famous Shoes, though, couldn't take his eyes off it. Even though he knew he should leave it with Buffalo Hump, so that he could use it in battle in the spirit world, Famous Shoes wanted it too much. After all, once they left, no one might ever come near the spot where Buffalo Hump lay. They might be the only ones who would ever look on the body of the old chief. But the animals would look. Wolf would come, and Coyote and Badger and Bobcat.

Buzzards would come, and beetles, to take what they could of old Buffalo Hump. If he left the shield a wolf or a coyote might drag it away. With all the animals that would soon be coming, the shield of Buffalo Hump might soon be lost, and yet it was a shield made by a great chief from a buffalo skull. With the buffalo now almost gone, it might be that no one would ever make such a shield again.

With such thoughts in his mind Famous Shoes soon convinced himself that he should take the shield, though he did not want to step into the death circle to do it.

While the rangers made a careful inspection of their horses' feet--a very wise thing since they had no spare horses--Famous Shoes took a rifle and reached across the black rocks and hooked the shield. He got the rifle barrel inside the rawhide grips that Buffalo Hump had made so that he could hold the shield where he wanted it. Famous Shoes was glad the shield had not been too far inside the circle-- he was just able to reach it with the rifle barrel, and in a moment he had it, the shield of Buffalo Hump, an important and powerful tool of war.

He was just about to take the shield to Deets and ask him to carry it in one of his saddlebags when the first shot came.

"We were too far away--I didn't get no chance to sight this gun," Blue Duck said, in a

Ermoke was a

Blue Duck quickly drew a bead on Ranger McCrae but missed again, though the bullet did knock one of the four horses down.

He was aware that Ermoke was looking at him critically--Ermoke was vain about his marksmanship, particularly if the distances were long. He had once killed an antelope with a Winchester at a distance of almost a thousand yards, and had never ceased to brag about the exploit.