Presently all the Apaches, the footmen on horse again, tore away, making down the river. Without trying to pursue them the whole Spanish army gathered on the battlefield. They were too heavily clothed to overtake Indians.
"They are as many as a herd of buffalo," said Letalesha. "They are a large war party. Where are they going and what do they want?"
"We shall find out from them at sundown," Rich Man answered. "We will let them camp, first. They are blood hungry now, and very mad."
"It will be no trouble for us to get horses," laughed Wolf. "Even a boy like Scar Head could steal some."
"Will you let me try?" Scar Head asked, hopefully.
"You shall be a warrior and get horses," Iskatappe promised, "unless they make us presents of them."
"The Apache chief was Big Thunder," Old Knife declared. "I know him. Red is his medicine, and as long as he carries that red shield nothing can kill him."
"Perhaps the Spanish chief knew, too," Wolf proposed. "Of course, nobody wishes to fight against medicine."
