Author's Note: My apologies for the delay. The original episodes focused mainly on the plot, and skipped the best parts of the story (in my opinion) by using narrative. Said narration gave us a minimum of 3 days in this valley, and that unaccounted for time felt like a blank canvas to me in which to do a great deal of character building before the adventure of the story begins. I also needed to do a ton of research, since I know next to nothing about medicine, horses, or making jerky and I wanted to make this scrawling a bit more realistic than the show's heavy use of TV magic. (The entire genre is a bit alien to me, compared to my usual science fiction.) Try as I might, I could not get this chapter to work quite the way I wanted. In the end, I had to revise the outline and break it differently – the previous chapter has been nearly doubled. Even so, this one is exceptionaly long with quite a lot crammed into it. I may end up breaking it differently as well. I am trying to keep this scrawling to a 10 chapter outline, however, for the Creed. Those of you keeping tabs on this little scrawling, please let me know if it gets too detailed to the point of tedium – and some of it shall end up on the cutting room floor. Also please let me know if anything is too unrealistic, since most of it is derived from Google (hallowed be thy name) rather than actual experience.

"That 'This government, of the people, by the people and for the people' shall live always."

Tonto woke with a start, blinking in confusion at the sun in his face.

"Good morning, Tonto."

Tonto tiredly rubbed the heel of one hand into his eye, trying to wake up. His back complained about the position he'd been in, propped up against the log, as he sat up straighter. He looked down as Kemosabe's blanket slid off his shoulder. His own had been left in a damp wad in his hurry to get to the fire, and was now spread out to dry over his saddle. It took a moment for him to get his bearings, and then he looked over at the ranger with embarrassment. "Me sorry, Kemosabe."

His friend was standing over the fire, holding a dripping kettle freshly filled with water from the stream. He gave a little shake of his head and smiled. "You worked very hard yesterday."

Tonto did not consider it reason enough, but what was done was done. He climbed to his feet and stretched, shaking his arms a bit to get the blood flowing again. He must have slept very soundly and not moved at all to be so stiff. He watched as Kemosabe set the kettle at the edge of the fire to percolate and frowned. "You sleep now, Kemosabe. Me watch fires."

The ranger glanced at him, and shook his head. "Maybe later. I want to start early with Silver."

Tonto's frown deepened, but he did not wish to argue with his friend. Instead, he used his knife to cut one of the potatoes in half, then wrapped a thick slice of left over roasted bison around it and handed it to Kemosabe. The ranger took it with a nod of thanks as Tonto made another roll for himself. He looked around as he ate, considering what was to be done that day, and decided the first chore would be gathering more kindling since their supply was getting very low.

The entire camp smelled of coffee when he returned, and he made short work of refreshing the smoky fires beneath the drying racks. Tonto coughed in surprise when he took a sip from the cup Kemosabe handed him, for it was an exceptionally strong brew. The ranger gave a low, tired laugh as he headed away toward the stream and added a bit of water to dilute it.

His buckskins were still there, waiting to be tended to, and Tonto decided this would be his next task of the day. By sheer coincidence both his outfits were fairly new and unstained; he would make special effort to keep them that way. He gathered everything up and brought it back to camp, leaving them and the cup beside the fire as he went to his saddlebags for fresh leather bindings. He bound his hair in his customary manner, a habit he had acquired from one of the plains tribes, and returned to the campfire with Scout's brush.

Kemosabe was still sitting on the log, drinking the sludge he called coffee, and watched as he settled himself cross-legged on the ground and began his work. It would take a little while to brush and rub the dried sweat and grime from the hide in the same manner as one would a horse, before he would wash it in the stream.

"Cotton is easier to clean, you know," Kemosabe suggested casually after a little while. Tonto looked up, and the ranger made a small gesture with his cup. "Or wool."

This was true, but Tonto frowned and looked away without reply. He did not know the words to describe the feeling that curled around his heart, making his chest feel tight. He stared down at the shirt in his hands and gently rubbed his fingers over the soft suede. Many of the things white men made were stronger, more durable, or easier to maintain than what Tonto had grown up with. Even the most skilled shaman could not work the miracles that white man's medicines and tools could. Things such as pocket watches and locomotives were like magic.

These things gave them great power, but the price of that power had distanced them. They gave less consideration to nature the more they learned to bend it to their will. They could not feel the earth beneath their feet in those rigid boots, they could not feel the wind and sun beneath their layers of clothing. They blocked out the very spirit of the living world, a spirit that connected all things, and then wondered why so many of them felt sad and alone even when surrounded by their brethren in their huge, sprawling cities.

Even so, Tonto had long ago realized that he could do his people the most good from outside the reservations and the white man's world fascinated him. He spoke their language and understood their religion. He had adopted the use of saddles and horseshoes. He'd taken up their guns and admired the craftsmanship of their knives. He was eager to learn any of their medicine that they would teach. Tonto's fingers curled into the thin, supple hide in his hands. But this... this was not something he could ever sacrifice. He walked among them, but any who saw him instantly knew exactly who and what he was. He knew his friend had meant no harm, but how could he explain his sadness at the simple remark?

A hand closed over his shoulder, and Tonto looked up again in surprise. Kemosabe was kneeling beside him, and the black mask did nothing to hide his apology. "That was thoughtless of me, Tonto. You have every right to be proud of your people. I didn't mean to suggest otherwise."

It was as if those pale blue eyes could stare straight into his soul and read every thought he held in his mind. So Tonto did not speak, and instead gave the man a little smile. There was kindness and sympathy in the small curve of Kemosabe's mouth as he gave Tonto's shoulder a squeeze before standing up.

Tonto watched silently as Kemosabe scooped up the wide-brimmed white hat and dropped it onto his head. He picked up the simple, loosely made halter of rope and called to Silver. The horse came willingly and the ranger smiled as he dug his fingers into some of the harder to reach places on the animal's neck and back to reward him before leading the way into the open field that spread down the valley along the shore of the stream. The hackamore was again accepted, and thus began Silver's training.

Tonto finished his laundry and tended to the jerky for the rest of the day while his friend began basic groundwork exercises with Silver. The horse tired easily, and Kemosabe checked the stitches constantly. He gave the horse many breaks to rest, taking a couple short naps himself, but Silver would come back after a quick graze and watering. Tonto had never seen such an attentive, eager to please horse in all his life. But then, Tonto had also never seen a man so devoted. Kemosabe made a game of it, lavishing the animal with praise, scratches, and pettings for every small accomplishment. For his part, Silver could not seem to get enough of the attention.

The meat had dried enough by dusk that it no longer needed to be guarded against insects, so Tonto let the little fires go cold. He was sitting on the log by the campfire, sharpening his knife, when the ranger decided to call it a day and head for the stream for his evening wash.

"Silver do well, Kemosabe," Tonto commented when he sat on the log beside him with a tired sigh. Tonto put down his knife and whetstone to pick up a plate.

"I think he's the smartest horse I've ever met, Tonto," the ranger replied. His voice was full of admiration, and Tonto did not have to look away from his task of filling the plate from the pot to know that his friend was watching Silver. The ranger had been very intent on his goal for the day, and only taken time for a quick lunch during one of Silver's breaks. Tonto ladled a very generous portion of the thick, rich stew he'd made with the last of the roasted bison onto the plate. The rest of the tubers had gone into it, as well as some wild onion he'd found growing nearby.

The ranger looked away from the horse when Tonto handed the plate to him, and took a deep breath. "That smells amazing."

Tonto nodded as he filled his own plate. They watched the sun set as they ate, both lost in thought. Tonto supposed his friend was planning on what he'd teach Silver next. For himself, Tonto intended to forage tomorrow while the ranger worked with the horse. He had left a bit of stew in the pot for their breakfast, but he knew this lush valley and there were many good things ready for harvesting at this time of year. They would be living off of travel rations soon enough.

Tonto had ranged from north to south, encountering and befriending many tribes along the way. Some he would winter with, and some he would stay only a day or so. It helped that he did not come empty-handed. Tonto always made sure to bring what was seen as a wealth of hides, dried foods, and herbs. Many would rather he brought them guns and ammunition, but he was determined to help them keep peace. Most importantly, Tonto brought news. Most tribes were confined to reservations now, and he brought news of other tribes, news from the settlers.

Ordinarily, this time of year, Tonto would be busy hunting, gathering, and preserving. He'd been considering a visit to a small Comanche band, here in Texas. If he did, it would be more important than any other time that he come bearing gifts. He generally avoided them, because the Comanche were not inclined towards peace and had been at war with nearly every tribe at one time or another. But this band was small and tired, and looked to be fleeing the state. Tonto wasn't sure what he hoped to accomplish. He had never set out with any sort of plan or intent... just obeyed the urge of his feet to move on, and the urge of his heart to help where he could.

He looked over as Kemosabe stood and headed toward the stream, collecting Tonto's plate along the way, and rinsed them off. He returned, setting them on a rock at the edge of the fire, and gave Tonto a little nod as he bedded down for the night. Full bellies and the comforting, cheerful warmth of the fire was making them both drowsy, so Tonto thought it was an excellent notion to bank the fire and turn in early.

He turned his head to look at Kemosabe, but the man was already breathing in the steady, deep rhythm of sleep. Tonto did not think things would ever be ordinary again. In fact, he was certain his entire life would never be the same. These thoughts were oddly reassuring as Tonto settled onto his side. The leather sheath of his knife dug into his hip, but he was getting used to it and was soon fast asleep.

Tonto slept very soundly, and did not wake with the sun as he usually did. He blinked in surprise when he looked at the sky, for dawn had passed several hours ago. His face turned automatically toward the sound of distant laughter, and he saw that Kemosabe and Silver were already at work in the grassy field. The stallion was healing quickly, and was in very lively spirits. He pranced happily, pleased at the praise for whatever he'd just done. Tonto watched for a little while, smiling. They had come here to find a mount before going after Cavendish and his gang of outlaws, but Silver was good for Kemosabe in many ways.

He sighed and the smile faded. By the time the horse was healed and trained, Cavendish's trail would be stone cold. If Kemosabe had asked for Scout, as they stood together beside those graves in the canyon, Tonto would have handed over the reins without a moment's regret. He was certain, however, that the ranger had already been intending to come to this valley before Tonto had asked to join him. He knew Kemosabe had some plan, and he wished he knew what it was.

Tonto's stomach interrupted his musings with a growl and he decided it was time to get started on the day. The kettle had been left at the edge of the fire to keep warm, and Tonto was pleasantly surprised to find a very mild brew that had been seasoned with something sweet. Kemosabe had left half the stew in the pot, so Tonto finished it off. It seemed a crime to hurry with the coffee, however. He brought the entire kettle down to the stream with him, knowing Kemosabe would not care for it. He used his knife to cut down several cattails and reeds, and took his time enjoying the coffee while he sat at the water's edge and wove a couple simple baskets.

The ranger and Silver were still working in the field when Tonto headed out towards them, carrying the baskets under one arm. There was a blanket draped over the horse's back, and Tonto began to suspect that Kemosabe intended to introduce the saddle to Silver today.

"Ta-i, Tonto," his friend said as he drew near.

Tonto smiled, always pleased to hear the simple greeting. "Ta-i, Kemosabe," he answered and glanced up at the sky. "You work with Silver much already today," he said. "Why you not wake me?"

The ranger sighed, absently stroking Silver's silky white mane. An odd expression flitted across his face, but the mask and the shadow of the hat made it hard to tell for certain. Tonto thought perhaps he'd looked a little guilty, but that seemed unlikely as there was no possible reason. "Tonto," Kemosabe said, "you are the least laziest man I have ever met. If you sleep away half the morning, it would only be because you need it."

Tonto hummed a low, reluctant tone of agreement, for he supposed Kemosabe must be right. He did feel more rested and relaxed today than he had in all the time since he'd first looked up to see buzzards circling above a small canyon several days ago. Kemosabe looked away, and Tonto caught a brief glimpse of that same expression.

"Are you after anything in particular?" the ranger asked, gesturing at the baskets.

Tonto decided to let it go, and looked down at the baskets. They were hardly works of art, misshapen and crudely crafted from green reeds without any of the preparation that was needed for a more durable product, but they would serve their purpose. "Many berries here now," he answered, waving a hand in the general direction of the trees at the edge of the clearing. "Herbs and flowers for medicine."

Kemosabe smiled. "And potatoes."

They were not really potatoes, but Tonto didn't know the English word for them so he nodded. He did have a special fondness for the starchy tubers and didn't come across them very often. He intended to fill one entire basket full to take with them when they left. He glanced up at the sky again, noting that he'd already lost another hour to basket weaving. Many of the native languages did not have a term for 'good bye', as it was felt to be far too permanent a saying. "Me go now," he said simply, and headed towards the woods.

"Have fun," Kemosabe called after him.

Tonto glanced back at him over his shoulder with a little wave, but did not know why the ranger should think his chore would be fun. As it turned out, Kemosabe was right. The forest was fairly young, as forests went, with the largest tree being no bigger around than his waist and the canopy thin enough to allow bright patches of sun to shine through to the ground in dappled patterns. The morning air was cool, kept so by the stream, and smelled of wet leaves. Tonto had not realized how long it had been since he'd been in a forest of any kind while travelling the prairie, and it was very refreshing.

It was not a large valley, and the woods only took up a small portion of one end, but there were small groves of fruit and nut trees mixed into the trees, though they would not be in harvest for a couple months. He'd been here before and knew there were several patches of earth that held a wide variety of herbs growing conveniently together. Tonto thought people must have lived in this valley at some point, but they were long gone now. He spotted a thick tangle of vines, and knelt to gather its bounty.

Tonto considered himself a simple man, one not generally given to deep introspection, but it was uncomplicated work and his thoughts wandered. Unlike Kemosabe, Tonto did not give great thought to the future. He believed that everything was connected to everything else – everything was effected by everything else. There was a force that moved the spirit from one place to another, and there were sturdy rocks that remained virtually unmovable within that force. Tonto was neither of these things, and preferred to let the ripples, tides, and eddies of the spirit that flowed all around guide his feet.

The energy of Kemosabe's spirit was like a raging whirlpool, and Tonto was drawn to it with inescapable force. The events of Tonto's life had made him strong enough to swim with the flow, rather than be pulled into the vortex, and he had no fear of it. It occurred to Tonto that the ranger needed this from him more than anything else.

There were two lifetimes of coincidences in play coming together in the past few days. He did not question his choice to join Kemosabe, but he had not stopped to give it proper thought, either. Tonto smiled, for there was something very satisfying about knowing, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that you were doing something truly worthwhile. That the path you were on was the only right course.

His heart full of happiness and his basket full of berries, Tonto moved on to an overgrown thicket of herbs. He piled large bunches of different kinds atop the berries, knowing both would take up much less space once they were dried. He rarely spared storage space in his saddlebags for plants that had little value other than seasoning, but today he did. There were two horses now to carry things, and Kemosabe preferred more variety than Tonto usually bothered with. Last of all he collected as many of the tubers as would fit in the remaining basket, and plenty of wild onion as well. All together it was quite a heavy bounty and he was starting to wish he'd brought Scout along by the time he returned well after midday.

Kemosabe met him halfway across the field and relieved him of the 'potatoes' with a grin. Tonto did not know what the man found so amusing, but he smiled back with good-natured humor as they walked. The freshest, greenest grass was to be found along the shores of the stream, and this was were Silver and Scout were contentedly grazing. Both looked up as the two men returned to camp, and Silver's ears canted forward as if he expected to be summoned.

"I think we're ready, Tonto," Kemosabe said as he set the basket on the ground.

Tonto cast a resigned glance at the baskets, for breakfast had been some time ago, but his friend was practically vibrating with anticipation. Silver came quickly when called, seemingly every bit as excited, and soon Tonto too forgot all about his stomach in the contagious mood as the ranger picked up the saddle and held it against his chest. Silver sniffed at it, but this was a practice they had done several times already.

"Tonto," Kemsobe said, and passed him the saddle.

The ranger held Silver's head, talking calmly to the horse, while Tonto carefully slid the saddle onto his back. Silver shied away nervously, but Kemosabe had already spent several hours leaning on the horse from both sides to get him used to the idea. The ranger held up a hand, and Tonto waited patiently while he smiled and praised the stallion. At a gesture, Tonto cinched the buckle around the horse's belly. He did so slowly, making sure the saddle was firmly in place but not too tight.

Silver did not like this.

This was how a large cat would bring down a horse, and the instinct to get it off now was powerful. Both men stepped back as the horse snorted and tossed his head. Tonto looked to his friend, but Kemosabe waved a hand to let the horse have his head. So they watched from a safe distance as Silver trotted around, stamping his feet and trying to buck the weight from his back. But the horse was not recovered from his ordeal with the buffalo, and this did not keep up for long before he hung his head in defeat.

"Silver," Kemosabe called. The horse came, but he trudged unhappily. The ranger showered Silver with praise, scratching all around the troublesome saddle. He gave a nod to Tonto, who joined in so that the horse was scratched and petted from both sides. The ranger produced a handful of white sugar cubes from his pocket and held one out to the horse in the flat palm of his hand. "Don't get used to these," he said with a grin as Silver delightedly lapped it up. Before long, Silver's spirits had raised and the ranger allowed him to join Scout near the stream.

"It isn't a proper fit," Kemosabe said, watching them. "I'll want one made specially for him, but it will do for now."

Tonto nodded in agreement, for the saddle had belonged to a smaller horse. He smiled as Scout whickered to Silver. Silver stomped his foot, but the older, more experienced paint just shook his mane with a snort and lowered his head to the lush grass at his feet. Silver flicked his tail irritably at the saddle, but then did the same. "Them talk to each other," Tonto said.

The ranger smiled, but his eyes were already focused far away.

Tonto was coming to recognize the expression, and slipped away to let him consider the future. He tended to the meals and various other camp chores while Kemosabe continued to work with Silver. He removed the saddle and put it back on several times at random intervals, letting the stallion get used to the action from both sides. The ranger joined him for a while and helped spread the berries and plants onto a handful of simple reed mats that Tonto had woven, but did not stay for long.

Tonto had set aside a small pile of straggly, weedy looking plants by the time the ranger stopped by the fire again. "Give to Silver," Tonto said. "Plenty good medicine."

He did so without question or hesitation, stroking Silver's muzzle while the horse ate from his hand. Then they were back in the field, repeating yesterday's exercises with and without the saddle. There was such a determined air about the man, and the horse responded with rapt attention. By the time the sun was setting, Silver did not even bother to look up from grazing when the ranger reached under his belly to buckle the saddle into place.

Kemosabe was very quiet as they gathered around the campfire at the end of the day. They ate in silence and Tonto settled into his bedroll without conversation. He watched his friend for a little while, wondering what he was seeing. Kemosabe was still staring into the fire when Tonto fell asleep, and he woke just before dawn to the aroma of fresh coffee.

The ranger had already gone through his morning ritual of shaving and seemed content to sip at his coffee as he watched Silver, so Tonto made breakfast. He plucked a couple pieces of the drying meat from the nearest rack, cut them up, and fried them in a bit of the rendered fat with slices of baked tuber from last night's dinner and some fresh herbs.

The ranger ate absently at first, lost in his own thoughts, but then looked down at his plate. "You're a good cook, Tonto," he said as thanks.

Tonto smiled at the compliment, but shook his head. "Very simple, Kemosabe – not same food you eat."

"There's a lot to be said for simplicity," Kemosabe said, getting to his feet. "Today is a big day," he added, collecting Tonto's empty plate and taking them both down to the stream. Once rinsed, he set them down on a rock near the fire as was becoming his habit, then picked up his saddle. Tonto hastily swallowed the last of his coffee as Kemosabe gave him a little gesture to follow.

"Silver!" the ranger called as they walked towards the horses. The pair generally kept near each other as they grazed. Scout looked up as Silver trotted away, but did not follow. Silver curved his neck around to give the man a playful nudge as he strapped the saddle into place, and the ranger smiled as he gave the horse a quick pat on the nose. "I'm glad you're in a good mood, Silver."

Tonto suddenly realized what he intended to do, and he wasn't sure that it was a very good idea. "Kemosabe..."

"I know, Tonto," he answered. "But we'll be all right."

Tonto trusted his friend's judgement, but it still seemed too early. He watched as Kemosabe checked the little row of stitches. Tonto had made up a batch of salve, the same as he had used on the ranger, and Kemosabe had been very generous with it. He'd kept the wound constantly slathered, and the horse had healed remarkably quickly. The ranger had tended to his shoulder by himself since they'd left the cave, but Tonto knew it still bothered him. Neither man nor horse were yet at full strength.

The ranger was clearly determined, however, so Tonto just sighed and pulled Silver's head around to face him. He stroked his muzzle, then covered both his eyes with his hands. Kemosabe fit a foot into the stirrup and took hold of the pommel of the saddle. "Well," he said and hauled himself up, "here goes."

Silver let out an enormous snort of surprise and jerked his head out of Tonto's hands. Tonto stepped back quickly, keeping both arms loose at his side, and anxiously watched as Silver gave a convulsive kick of his hind legs and bucked. The ranger kept the makeshift reins of the hackamore pulled down so that Silver could not get his head very high, and the horse instead turned in a tight circle, all the while making half-aborted bucking jumps. It was not that he truly wanted to throw the man, but it was a very powerful instinct.

After nearly a minute of this, Silver managed to wrench his head forward and broke into a run. Tonto chased after them for a few steps on impulse, but realized how pointless that was. He opened his mouth to call for Scout, but saw that Silver was slowing. Kemosabe had practiced working with the reins while on the ground, and the horse was calming down enough now to understand what was wanted of him. Silver was very, very green, but also exceptionally intelligent and completely devoted to the rider. Tonto relaxed with a little sigh and watched as the ranger began with the excersises they'd been working on for the past two days, but from the saddle instead of the ground.

He supposed they would be at it for a while, so he returned to the camp. This afternoon would mark three full days that they had been here, but it seemed like much longer. If Kemosabe and Silver kept up the progress they were making, they would be leaving soon. Anticipation suddenly blossomed in his stomach, spreading til it seemed to consume all of him. They would be after Cavendish soon.

Tonto wanted to take advantage of the opportunity for fresh meals while he could. The stream held no fish, so Tonto returned to the woods to hunt their meals for the day and gather more of the plants for Silver. He did not stay long, and returned to camp as quickly as he could. He checked on Kemosabe and Silver, just in case something had gone wrong, but the two had moved to the grassy field and were still at work.

Kemosabe allowed himself and Silver a break near midday – though Tonto was certain it was more for the horse than the ranger – and returned to camp. Tonto noticed that the hackamore had been exchanged for the bridle. Silver wasn't very happy about it, and kept chewing at the hard metal in his mouth. Kemosabe rubbed his muzzle, and scratched behind his ears, talking to the horse as he walked.

The ranger spotted the pile of tall, grassy weeds and fed this to Silver first. He did not remove the bridle, and the horse kept shaking his head in annoyance as he tried to eat around it. He was rewarded with a sugar cube and many scratches before being set loose to graze and drink.

"We ride tomorrow," Kemosabe said by way of greeting as he sat on the log.

Tonto raised an eyebrow and handed him a plate of grilled rabbit. He would never have thought it possible to train a horse so quickly – though it could hardly be said that Silver was trained. Tonto was quite certain that the stallion would tolerate no man other than Kemosabe upon his back. This was a horse whose spirit was not broken, but who chose to serve out of love.

The ranger ate in silence, lost in thought, and gave Silver about an hour before returning to the field. Tonto watched for a little while, then decided to get as much ready for tomorrow as he could. He changed into his other outfit and washed every bit of laundry that was not currently being worn, including their blankets, and laid it all out in the hot sun to dry. He tended to all the little camp chores, not minding that what was generally considered women's work had been delegated to him for the past few days. In the course of travelling alone, he'd become quite used to doing everything himself and he was not able to help Kemosabe with Silver. That was something that horse and rider had to do together.

Around mid evening, Tonto began pulling the meat from the drying racks and took down the little tripods. He stacked the branches near the campfire, but kept the string. The meat and berries both could have used more time to dry, but it would be fine. Tonto used a rock to pound the meat into small chunks. Normally, he would just mix in the rendered fat to make plain pemmican... but today he glanced at the berries and herbs, shriveled up now from the sun, and decided to make this a much more potent batch. He laid the finished product out onto the mats in meal-sized bars to dry some more in the sun. A man could live off of this alone for a very long time.

Tonto pounded the dried tendons from the bison into individual strands of sinew and added them to their meager supply of medicinals, then ground up the herbs that had dried enough to be added as well. The rest he gathered up into little bundles to dry some more as they traveled.

The sun was setting by the time Kemosabe returned again. Tonto had tied the ends of all the string together to make four long strands, and used four square patches of the cut-up cloth to make crude sacks by threading the string through slits cut along one edge and pulling it tight. He was sitting by the campfire, cross-legged as was his preference, and was packing the last of half the pemmican bars into one of the sacks. The ranger looked around the camp as he settled the saddle at the head of his bedroll, and gave a nod of satisfaction.

"You've been busy," he commented as he fetched the bar of soap from the saddlebag.

Tonto pulled the string to close the sack and nodded as he tied it.

The ranger sighed and gave him a little smile. "I suppose you've been very bored the past few days," he said. "I appreciate your patience."

Tonto would not have described it as bored, but he supposed that was a good a word as any. Patience, on the other hand, was definitely the right word. He was anxious to go, even though he understood that Silver needed time. He wanted to catch Cavendish for Kemosabe's sake, and for the sake of the towns the man and his gang had been terrorizing, but he had resigned himself to a long hunt.

Tonto smiled and shrugged. "We go after Cavendish soon."

The ranger's smile faded into determination. "Very soon," he said, and gave Tonto's shoulder a reassuring pat as he headed towards the stream.

Tonto had dinner ready when he returned, and the two again ate in silence. Such quietness seemed very out of character for Kemosabe, from what Tonto recalled of their youth. Perhaps he had changed much in the many years since, but Tonto did not think so. Some instinct made him think that something was wrong. It was not good for his friend to be so quiet. He had been respecting the desire for solitude, but he was starting to think that perhaps this was not a good idea.

He watched as the ranger stretched out on the bedroll and laid his hat on the ground at his side. "Good night, Tonto."

"Good night, Kemosabe," Tonto replied automatically, though he had not made any move towards his own bed. He stayed up for a bit, watching the fire. He was too restless to sleep yet, but after a while he laid down anyway. His thoughts kept ranging back to that terrible, wonderful day that a passing stranger had found a burned camp. The memory was old enough that he could recall it without too much pain, and he thought about the things Kemosabe had done and said to help Tonto that went beyond merely bandaging his wounds. After a while, he thought he knew what he needed to do, and finally drifted off to sleep.

He woke suddenly several hours later, and blinked up at the stars. Tonto was usually a light sleeper, but the past week had seen many long days that proved to be taxing, both mentally and physically, and he'd slept very soundly. The past couple days had left him well rested, however, and he turned his head at the sound of another low mutter.

It wasn't the first time that he'd woken Tonto, and it would not be the last. Tonight, though, whatever dream had him in its grip did not let go, and seemed to be worsening. Tonto leaned over him and prodded his shoulder. "Kemosabe?"

His eyes flew open, but did not see. Tonto let out a startled gasp as he found himself hurled onto his back and pinned to the ground with an elbow across his throat. He flung up both arms, but the ranger was faster, larger, stronger, and suddenly the hard barrel of a gun was digging into his rib cage. "Kemosabe!"

The ranger froze, a look of horror spreading across his face. In all the years they would ride together, Tonto would always remember this as the one and only time he would ever see fear on this man's face. Not fear of the dream, not fear of an attack, but fear of what had almost just happened. Tonto was still trapped beneath the weight of his friend, but Kemosabe seemed completely unable to move. Tonto drew a short breath against the pressure on his neck, and managed to shift his arm enough to gently push the gun aside with the back of his hand.

The motion jolted Kemosabe out of his paralysis. He released Tonto, sitting back with his legs crossed. He angrily tossed the gun away, then ran both hands through the waves of his short, dark hair. There was such dejection and exhaustion in the simple gesture, in the slump of his shoulders. Tonto propped himself up on his elbows and narrowed his eyes at him. Clues began to fall into place, and he silently berated himself for not seeing them.

Kemosabe did not move as Tonto sat up to kneel in front of him, hesitated, then brought a hand up to the ranger's face. He started to pull away as Tonto slipped his fingers under the edge of the mask, but then went absolutely still. Tonto slid the black cloth up and over his head, moving slowing in case he truly did not wish to allow it, but this was a liberty that Tonto alone would ever be granted.

Even by moonlight, the signs around his eyes were there clear as day without the mask to hide them. "Kemosabe," he said quietly. "You not sleep much."

Kemosabe looked away, making no effort to deny it.

Tonto laid a hand against his friend's chest above his heart. The pulse beneath his palm was nearly frantic, still terrified. Tonto spread his fingers and pressed a little until he looked back up at him. "Body heal plenty fast," Tonto said when clear blue eyes met warm brown. "Spirit sometime need longer." The ranger looked down, but Tonto knew his words had been felt.

Tonto sighed, because he also knew that his friend would not possibly sleep for what remained of the night. If they were to ride out tomorrow, it was important that he be rested. Tonto laid the mask beside the dark coals of the fire, aware of his friend's eyes on it, and then rekindled the flame. Kemosabe did not question him as they waited in silence for Tonto's little pot to come to a boil before he poured some of the water into a cup.

Tonto sprinkled a generous handful of herbs over it before holding it out to him. "You sleep."

Kemosabe accepted the cup, but only stared down into its steaming depths as it steeped without uttering a word.

Tonto lifted his chin and let out a short whistle. Scout appeared from the shadows beyond the fire, with Silver following behind in curiosity. Tonto reached up as the paint stopped beside him and lowered his head, and rubbed affectionately at the horse's ears. Silver nickered and shoved his nose against the ranger's shoulder, demanding similar treatment. "We keep watch, Kemosabe."

Kemosabe could not help a smile, and gave Silver's nose a pat. "All right... you win. I'm clearly out voted," he said and took a swallow of the tea. He grimaced at the taste, but drank all of it. The ranger was very strong, but Tonto had made certain that even he would not be able to resist the medicine and soon, within minutes, he was struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Sleep, Kemosabe," Tonto urged, and helped him lie back against the saddle.

Kemosabe fought to keep awake just a moment longer, and wrapped a hand around Tonto's arm. "You're a good friend, Tonto," he said slowly. "I don't know what I would have done without you." His grip loosened, and Tonto lowered his arm gently to the ground. Kemosabe lay oblivious to the world, unmasked and unarmed, and Tonto felt a sudden wave of intense protectiveness as he pulled the blanket over him.

He could not imagine there was any danger in this peaceful, isolated valley, but he had given his word and would take absolutely no chances. He built up the fire, made some coffee, and waited with a gun in his hand for the sun to rise.