Dead Man's Walk by Larry McMurtry Page B

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." "My Lord, if there's hundreds of them coming, they'll hunt us up and hack us all down," Long Bill said. He had been nursing a sense of grievance. After all, he had ridden off from San Antonio to help find a good road west, not to be hacked to pieces by Comanche Indians.

"There wouldn't need to be hundreds to take us," Bigfoot corrected. "Twenty-five would be plenty, and ten or fifteen could probably do the job." "Now, that's a useless comment," Bob Bascom said, hurt by Bigfoot's low estimation of the troop's fighting ability.

"I expect we could handle fifteen," he added.

"Not unless lightning struck half of them," Bigfoot said. "I was watching you youngsters take target practice yesterday. Half of you couldn't hit your foot if your gun barrel was resting on it." Shadrach conversed a little more with the old woman.

When he finished, she began to wail again. The sound was so irritating that Call felt like putting cotton in his ears, but he had no cotton.

"She don't know nothing about Gomez," Shadrach said. "I think your dern dream was off." "We'll see," Bigfoot said. He didn't press the issue, not with Shadrach, a man who trusted no opinions except his own.

Gus McCrae got to his feet. He wanted to test his leg, in case he had to run again. He walked slowly over and picked up his rifle. His hip didn't hurt much, but he felt uneasy in his stomach. When the lance stuck in his hip he saw it rather than felt it. He was even able to hold the shaft of the lance off the ground as he ran. Now, even in the midst of his fellow Rangers, the fear he felt then wouldn't leave him. He had the urge to hide someplace. Gus had never supposed he would