Ride the savage land

Dedicated to Henry Darrow and Cameron Mitchell,

the two wonderful actors

who made Manolito Montoya and Buck Cannon

come to life.

Buck and Manolito had finished their shift at the outskirts of the High Chaparral and were riding back to the ranch for dinner. Buck was staring thoughtfully at the ground, daydreaming, when Mano suddenly stopped.

"Hey, mira! Qué es?" he asked his brother-in-law, pointing ahead. In this direction, the High Chaparral bordered for a few miles on Apache country.

Buck looked up. Two children were running over the grassy plains as fast as their legs would carry them. The younger girl stumbled and fell down, gasping for breath. The older one jerked her up. "Come on! We have to get away," she cried, panting as well. But after a few more steps she relented. The girls stopped to catch their breath, constantly looking back over their shoulders. In the distance three Apache warriors appeared. The children spied the riders, and the younger one let out a piercing scream. Buck and Manolito spurred their horses onward. The girls started running again, but could not shake off their pursuers.

Buck rode full tilt towards the Apache who had chased down the older girl. The warrior was about to pull the child up onto his horse. Buck stood up in his saddle. He hurled himself onto the Apache. Girl, warrior, horse, and white man went down in a heap. Manolito had reined in his own horse to guard his friend's back. He shot the second warrior who had aimed his gun at Buck. The third Apache meanwhile had free rein. He grabbed the younger girl and raced away with her. Buck left the older child standing where she was, galloping with Mano after the younger one. A few miles into Apache country, they stopped abruptly. The warrior had fled into a camp. He had called reinforcements and was now returning with six or seven men.

"They are too many, compadre," Manolito warned.

"You're right," Buck agreed and wheeled his horse around. "We better keep the one we got."

They galloped back. The older girl was standing where they had left her, still panting. "My sister, where is my sister?" she cried when she saw that Buck and Mano returned empty-handed.

"There are too many Apaches," Buck said hastily, motioning for her to mount behind him. Ann did not move from the spot.

"Oh, please, please, go get her," she called out desperately.

"Yes, we will have to go back with help, then we will go get her," Buck answered, trying to soothe the girl.

Ann shook her head. "No, you won't. You're just saying that."

"Yes, we will. I promise. I swear it. Now, come on," urged Buck.

"There is no time to waste," Mano emphasized.

Ann mounted at last. Buck and Manolito raced away, the Apache warriors now hot on their heels. The bullets whizzed around them. Buck breathed a sigh of relief when the High Chaparral finally came into view.

Reno, doing guard duty on the roof, shot once in the air. "Apaches," he yelled.

Everybody who happened to be in the vicinity ran to the gate to provide covering fire. Buck and Mano rode in, slowing down only when they were well within the courtyard. They came to a stop in front of the ranch house. John lifted the child from Rebel and put her in the hammock on the porch.

"I promised the girl, John. We found two of them, but the Apache got the other one. Is she all right? Has she been hit?" Buck asked in one breath.

"I don't know yet. We'll see," his brother replied calmly.

"Apaches are gone, Mr. Cannon," Joe called out to him from the gate.

Big John looked over his shoulder. "You keep a sharp look-out because you never can tell when they'll be back," he warned.

Victoria, who had remained in the house during the shooting, came out to see what the commotion was all about. She leaned over the girl to examine her. "She is all right. She's just exhausted," she announced finally.

Now that the excitement was over, Big John had the time and leisure to peer at the child more closely. "You know, she is a white girl," he said to his brother in surprise.

Buck was leaning against the post of the front porch to which one end of the hammock was tied. "She sure is, John," he said dryly. The child was wearing the leather clothing of the Apaches and was as tanned as any member of the tribe, but, in his opinion at least, the light brown hair and European features could not be overlooked.

"Where did you find them?" the rancher wanted to know.

"The Sanchez Flats," Mano put in.

"Her and a littler one was runnin' away from three Apache," Buck explained. "We dealt ourselves in, and we got this one."

"What happened to the other one, Buck?" Blue put in. He had joined the party on the veranda when he had no longer been needed to defend the gate and had planted himself at the other end of the hammock.

"The Indians that got her joined up with more Apaches," his uncle said grimly.

"She's been living with the Apache," Big John stated.

Vaquero glanced at the child. "Sí, señor. Natahay," he said when he saw the painting on the girl's face.

"What?" Blue asked. He had never heard that word, and he was not sure he had understood correctly.

"Whites captured as children and raised with the Apache," Vaquero explained.

Blue frowned in confusion. "Raised with them?"

Vaquero nodded seriously. "As slaves," he clarified.

Victoria looked up. "Are you men just gonna stand here?" she asked in bewilderment. "Take her inside where I can attend to her."

Big John scooped the girl into his arms and carried her into the house. Vaquero and Victoria rushed after him.

Buck, who had not moved from his post, worriedly looked at his brother-in-law. "Mano, we only got our job half done," he began.

"We did very well to get one girl and stay alive," Manolito brushed him off.

Buck lowered his head and let it be.

Manolito repaired the buckboard. Big John had asked him to because he needed it for his shopping trips to Tucson. Buck strolled over to his brother-in-law, leaning on the side planks, staring off into space.

"Buck." Mano intended to ask his friend to lend a hand. When he got no answer, he looked up and finally stood. "Compadre? Hey, qué pasa? You're daydreaming?" he enquired sympathetically.

"Yeah, Mano," Buck replied with a heavy sigh. "And they're all bad."

Ill at ease, Manolito looked away. He noticed a movement at the house. Victoria was leading Ann onto the veranda.

"It is so pleasant out here in the morning," Mano heard his sister say. "You sit here and rest. You'll be much better soon. And if there is anything you want, you just call me." Victoria put a blanket over Ann's legs and tenderly stroked the girl's cheek.

Ann looked gratefully up at her. "Thanks," she said shyly. Victoria smiled and quickly patted her charge's hand before she went back into the house.

"There is la muchacha," Mano said to his friend, nudging him with his elbow.

Buck absently turned his head towards him. "Hmm?"

"The girl." Manolito nodded in the direction of the house.

Buck went to her. "Hi, ma'am. I'm Buck," he introduced himself.

Ann smiled at him. "Mrs. Cannon told me all about you," she said animatedly.

"She did, huh?" Buck asked in amusement.

The girl lowered her eyes. "What I don't know is how to thank you," she admitted quietly.

"Ma'am, out here in the dry land of the Apache, when you see a fire, you can't stand down and watch it burn," Buck told her in a serious tone. He looked more closely at Ann, noticing the bruises on her throat. "Would you excuse me, ma'am?" He bent down and pushed her hair aside. Ann flinched.

"Do they ache?" Buck asked her.

The girl shook her head.

"Do you mind telling me how you got yourself in such a fix?" Buck enquired further.

"Mother and Father got killed five years ago by the Mescaleros. They took Olive and me with them. About two years ago, they sold us to the Dragoon Apaches," Ann said quietly.

"How did you finally get away?"

Ann stared straight ahead as she related the events. "They sent us out to search for roots. The ghost medicine man had gone to the mountains, and they weren't watching us as closely as they usually do. We ran. We ran, we ran. But Olive isn't very strong. She couldn't run fast."

Buck nodded sadly. "Olive. That would be the littler one we didn't get?"

"You've forgotten?" the girl exclaimed.

"Forgotten what?" Buck asked calmly.

"You promised to help her," Ann cried in distress.

Big John heard the voices. He came to the house and leaned against the side wall of the porch.

"Well, it's kinda hard, miss," he heard his brother explain. "See, I don't know how to get on with it yet."

"They went to the Teeshan Mountains," Ann said eagerly.

"Teeshan Mountains?" Buck asked, fishing for information.

"They have her there," the girl replied. When Buck still did not react, Ann's face clouded over. "You must be afraid," she said.

"Don't you worry. I'll think of something," Buck reassured her with a smile. "You just start feeling good here." Seeing his brother, he broke off. "Excuse me, ma'am." He threw John a quick glance and walked towards the corral.

His brother followed him. "Buck," he called when they were a few yards from the house.

Buck stopped and turned around. "Yeah, Big John."

The rancher put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "I know what's on your mind," he said quietly.

"I know you know," Buck said, sounding a bit put-upon, then went on quietly: "But John, I just can't let the Apaches keep that little girl."

"No," the rancher said resolutely.

"John, I promised."

Big John shook his head. "Buck, I said no."

"John, please, let me take Manolito there, and Sam and a couple of others…" his brother tried again.

Big John put his foot down. "No!"

"John, you don't understand. John, you got to stop doing this," his brother exclaimed. "I mean, there comes a time when you got to stop counting the odds."

"Buck, you know better than that," Big John countered. "Besides, there will be some troopers coming here tomorrow to set up communications between Tucson and Calabasas. Finding that girl is their job."

"Yes," Buck nodded. He looked towards Ann for a moment. "And if they won't?" he asked quietly.

"We will have to go on being sensible."

"All right, John. You go on being sensible," Buck said in frustration, rubbing his head. "Something I gotta do, I ain't got a lick of sense in my head. And I can't get that little face out of my mind."

Big John opened his mouth to reply but thought better of it and simply walked away. Buck stared for a moment at the ground, then looked at his brother-in-law. Mano's expression clearly indicated that he wished not to be drawn into the affair. He walked away as well. Buck stared after his friend for a second before he turned to Ann. The girl looked at him relentlessly. Buck nodded gravely to her. He knew that the Apaches would guard their recaptured slave well. And the marks on Ann's throat proved that they did not solely rely on their eyes to do the job.

The next morning around nine o'clock, the soldiers arrived at the High Chaparral. John and Victoria asked the colonel into the house to offer him some refreshment.

Everyone who was not on the pasture to herd the cattle had settled in an unobtrusive spot to see what would happen. The moment the colonel left the house, Vaquero, for example, had gone outside to fetch water. He stopped beside the front porch so that he would not to be in the soldiers' way. The army raiding party had mounted and lined up in the courtyard, ready to leave the ranch. Vaquero spotted Buck who was leaning against his usual place on the veranda post. Manolito was slouching on the bench next to the front door. John and Victoria left the house together with the colonel to see him off.

"And all those medicine men coming to the area. I am not concerned or worried about Apache mumbo-jumbo," Vaquero heard the officer say. "Sergeant."

The sergeant brought the colonel's horse and stood to attention. "Sir!"

"You rifle," ordered the officer. The sergeant handed his gun over to Big John. The rancher took it and tested it.

"The very latest," boasted the colonel. "Rapid fire. I can wipe out the Apache nation inside of a week with these."

Victoria looked horrified at the gun.

"If I were you, Colonel, I would not underestimate the Apache," Big John said, returning the weapon to the sergeant, barrel first.

The colonel smiled condescendingly. "No Apache is ever going to get his hands on one of these, I can assure you about that."

Mano grinned to himself, shaking his head.

The officer turned to leave.

"What about the girl's sister?" Victoria asked quickly. "The little one, held by the Apache as a slave."

The colonel paused and tipped his hat. "I'm very sorry, Mrs. Cannon, but my orders are very clear. The signal corps unit moves on to Calabasas. I ride on to my new command."

"You mean, Mr. Gold Shoulders, that you intend to forget about that little girl," Buck told him testily.

The colonel threw Buck an icy glance over his shoulder. "I will thank you, sir, to address me as Colonel Biddle."

"You know'd as Gold Shoulders, and you will answer me," Buck insisted, his voice as frosty as the Siberian winter.

The officer finally deigned to turn and face him, taking a deep breath. "I do not intend to forget about the girl. After my headquarters are established, I'll go after her. Meanwhile, I'll make out a full report."

Buck's face reddened. "For your information, Colonel," he spat out the rank as others spit out bitter almonds. "It's worse now. While you are making that report, they're gonna kill that little girl." He turned on his heels and walked away.

After a few seconds of embarrassed silence on all sides, the colonel decided to forget the scene. He turned to the rancher couple, tipping his hat once more. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Cannon."

"Colonel." Big John shook the man 's hand in parting.

The officer got on his horse. "Sergeant, ride by two."

The sergeant relayed the order to the troops. "Ride by two. Ho! Forward. Ho!"

Buck was sitting on the the brim of the well. He watched the soldiers go, a mix of disbelief and resignation on his face. Turning back to the house, his eyes fell on Ann. The girl stood at his pillar, reminding him of his promise with an iron look.

Half an hour later Buck went to his saddled horse. He stowed the supplies Victoria had given him and was about to mount. Big John had followed him from the house. He made a last-ditch effort to stop his brother. "You know, Buck, you're on a fool's errand," he said sternly.

Buck noncommittally shrugged his shoulders. "Man's got a right to be a fool if he feels obliged," he said, tightening the straps of his hat.

"Yeah," John replied matter-of-factly. "I bet you a month's wages you don't get one single man in Tucson to ride with you."

Buck took the reins. "How can you be so sure about that? I got friends you don't even know about."

"You ask them to ride with you, they won't be your friends long," his brother replied, looking up at him seriously.

Buck bit back his answer. "See you," he said instead and galloped through the gate.

Leaning on the hitching rack, Big John worriedly watched him leave. As he turned back towards the house, he noticed his brother-in-law. Manolito was standing in the middle of the courtyard, staring after his friend, his face a mask of utter dismay. John went to the man and put a hand on his shoulder. "Did you think Buck would desist if you refused to go with him?" he asked softly.

Manolito nodded dejectedly and looked down.

John smiled slightly. "Buck never takes the easy way out. You should know this by now. If he wants to have his way, he doesn't care who's on his side."

Manolito looked up. "You mean if I don't help him in this case, he won't consider me his friend any more?" he asked quietly.

The rancher shook his head. "No, otherwise Buck would have left me years ago. He will accept your opinion, but he won't ask again for your help in a similar situation."

"If he gets himself killed now, he won't even get the chance to ask," Mano reflected.

"He won't find anyone in Tucson who would be willing to join him, I'm telling you. And without help, he won't get far. Even Buck will have to admit defeat, then," Big John said confidently.

Mano nodded doubtfully. "I'll take his shift," he said and went to get his gear. In his room he realized how he could save the day.

Manolito galloped after his friend, whistling to announce his arrival. Buck half turned in his saddle and reined in his horse a little.

"Buck! It is a good thing you ride slow, or I would not have caught you," Mano said wryly.

"I'm riding slow now because I got a long way to go," Buck replied in the same tone.

"I agree with your brother. It is foolish to go this way," Mano went on.

Buck shrugged. "We'll see how foolish when I get to Tucson."

"You see, there is another way of going to get her than riding in with an army or alone."

Buck stopped his horse. "There is?" he asked skeptically.

Mano smiled slightly. "For the Apache, she is only a slave. No es verdad?"

Buck inclined his head. "That's what Ms. Ann, her sister, said," he replied guardedly.

"And the Apache always needs money to buy guns and bullets, this is also true?" Mano wanted to know. His friend nodded affirmatively.

"Why is it not possible, even likely, they would sell her? Without fighting, without bloodshed. Sell her to a couple of men foolish enough to go to them with money." Mano's grin grew wider with every word.

A slow, wondrous smile crept over his friend's face. "Fools? Like you? Like me?" he wanted to know.

Manolito nodded emphatically. "Sí, hombre."

Buck began to laugh. A moment later his face fell. "Well, Mano. Where would I get money? I mean, John gives me eight dollars a month if he can pay me. I think I got a dollar in my pocket, that's all." Rummaging in his pockets, he brought forth the coin.

Mano held up his hand. Reaching for the inside pocket of his jacket, he pulled out a pouch and handed it to his friend. "Buck, money I have saved from my father for - how do you say? - a rainy day," he smiled. "And when you decide to get yourself killed, well, for me, that is a rainy day."

Buck weighed the pouch in his hand, laughing, then became serious again. "But Mano, that's awful chancy. It was my idea. Let me go alone."

"With my money?" Manolito said in mock outrage. "Never, compadre. First of all, you are not to be trusted. I only go along with you to protect my interests." He tucked the money back into his pocket.

Buck lowered his head. A moment later he looked up with a grin, putting his hand on his friend's arm. "Mano, idiota," he laughed.

Manolito laughed as well, glad that Buck had taken his joke as such.

An Apache scouting party had watched the scene and followed them unnoticed.

Eventually, Big John had realized that Mano must have followed Buck. The rancher had sent Sam to Tucson to delay the two hotheads. Late in the afternoon, the foreman came galloping back to the ranch. John had made himself comfortable on the porch with Ann and Victoria. He stood up from his chair and went to meet the man.

"I couldn't find anybody in Tucson who saw them, Mr. Cannon," Sam reported in distress.

"That means they have gone ahead alone," Big John concluded.

"Yes, it looks like," nodded his foreman.

"It's my fault, Mr. Cannon," Ann said miserably. "I made them promise to go after Olive, and I kept them to it."

Victoria patted her hand reassuringly and stood. "What will you do, my husband?" she asked uneasily.

"We will have to go after them, Victoria." Mano must have even more delusions of grandeur than Buck, the rancher thought sourly. He turned to Sam. "You tell Reno and Pedro and Joe to saddle up, and some of the others. We will leave in fifteen minutes."

Sam nodded. "Yes, sir." With long strides he hurried to the bunkhouse.

Big John went into the house to get ready himself. Victoria sat back down beside Ann and told her that Buck did only what his conscience dictated and that he refused to let himself be influenced by anyone - be it Ann, or his brother, or even his best friend. The girl nodded hesitantly. Victoria brought her a glass of home-made lemonade and began to tell her fairy tales. Ann was thrilled. The last one who had told her such beautiful stories had been her mother, and that was way too long ago.

Mano and Buck rested in the afternoon sun. Manolito, his head pillowed on his saddle, lay there with his eyes almost completely closed and stared absently at the sky. Buck lay beside him on the belly, leaning with his forearms on his saddle. He looked at the mountains in the background, thoughtfully chewing on a blade of grass. He had asked Mano during the ride where he had learned the Apache language. His brother-in-law had told him that he had ridden with a few bandits who were familiar with the language and the culture. Mano had noticed that Buck was interested and had gone into a bit more detail.

"Mano, you know so much about the Apache that I think sometimes that you're a half," Buck told his friend and decided to ask the question directly. "Mano, do you have Apache blood?"

"It would be no disgrace," Manolito said quietly, his eyes never leaving the sky.

"No, no disgrace," Buck agreed. "I admire them. You know, up north the White Mountain Apache and the other Apache. Why do they always live in the mountains, Mano?"

"You know, all he has are the mountains. Without his mountains, an Apache has nothing," Manolito explained.

The scouting party crept up on them, surrounding them.

Buck looked at the landscape. The mountains were literally overgrown with chaparral. On the hill behind them loomed a saguaro cactus. The spring air was pleasantly warm. He twisted around to lie on his back, resting his head on his saddle. The sky was a cloudless pure blue. "See that sky? Makes you think," Buck said dreamily.

Manolito put one arm behind his head and smiled. "Sí. It makes me think, too."

"About what, Mano?" Buck demanded.

"It makes me think of Magdalena."

"Is she pretty?"

Mano grinned. "Magdalena is a little town. And we have company, compadre," he said in the same low, even tone.

"I know, amigo," Buck replied. He barely moved his lips as he continued sleepily, "Listen, you count to three very carefully, and we vamonos, eh?"

Mano stretched his arms. He put an inconspicuous hand on his revolver that was in his gunbelt beside his saddle. "Uno, dos, tres," he mouthed.

They jumped up. The Apaches attacked. The first one came at Manolito with a tomahawk. Mano shot him in the chest, and the man collapsed. The next instant a second warrior targeted Manolito. The man had enough momentum to hit Mano's hand with his thigh, sending the revolver flying. Then he attacked Manolito with his knife. They wrestled. Mano managed to gain the advantage. He turned sideways and let the man fall on the knife. He took up his revolver again, waiting for the next opponent to surface. Buck noticed some movement in the bushes in front of them. He shot a third man.

They remained motionless and looked around warily. Everything stayed quiet.

"Three is all, you think?" Buck asked after a moment.

"They would have attacked by now," Mano replied. "They would not let three die alone."

Buck was not yet satisfied. "I will get a look around up there," he said. "If you see any, call out."

Manolito stayed in the cover of the bushes, examining the immediate surroundings with his eyes. Buck meanwhile ran up the hill. He used the saguaro cactus as cover and did a panoramic survey. "Mano, all clear, nothing here," he finally called out to his brother-in-law.

His friend gave him a thumbs-up as well. "All clear."

"We were lucky to get out of that one, amigo," Buck commented when he was halfway down the hill.

Mano stood with his back turned to his brother-in-law. "Not so lucky," he muttered.

Buck's heart jumped into his throat. He raced to his friend and took him by the arm. "Why? Did you get hurt?" he asked urgently.

Manolito pointed to the ground in front of them. "They shot my horse."

Buck breathed a sigh of relief. "A good horse," was all the answer he could muster. He looked at the dead warriors. "Mano, I think we ought to bury these Apaches."

Manolito nodded dejectedly. "All right."

"The best thing would be," Buck began when they were digging the graves, "if we hid your stuff here and collect it on the way back. Let's spend the night at the river. There we can at least refill our canteens. Sorry, Mano, but you can't take more than your bottle and your rifle. Otherwise we'll overtax Rebel, and then we'll have no horse at all. You know that as well as I do."

"It'll be all right, Buck. Don't worry," his brother-in-law assured him quietly.

The next morning they rode on toward the Dragoon Mountains. From a pass they could see the soldiers setting up telegraph poles. Buck remembered that Big John and the colonel had spoken of it. He rode down to the squad which consisted mainly of black men. The sergeant awaited them.

"Buenos días, señor," Mano greeted him, jumping down from the horse. Buck also dismounted.

"Hello," the sergeant replied neutrally.

"You have a horse I can buy?" Manolito enquired. "I would need a saddle, too."

"What happened to your mount?" the sergeant wanted to know.

"We were attacked by Indians. Stray bullet, or one not so stray. My horse got shot."

"Apaches?"

"Yeah, it was. Three of them, but we buried them," Buck put in quietly.

The soldier frowned. "Didn't I see both of you at the Cannon place yesterday morning?"

Buck nodded. "That's right. I'm Buck Cannon. This is Señor Montoya, my brother-in-law."

"I'm Sergeant Washburn," the man introduced himself. "You goin' back to the ranch?"

"In time," Mano replied evasively. "We can pay, though."

Washburn made a dismissive gesture. "There's no need. Leave the horse at the ranch, and I'll pick it up in a couple of days."

"Gracias", Manolito thanked the man, pleasantly surprised.

The sergeant turned to one of his subordinates. "Corporal, bring your mount," he ordered.

Buck suddenly stiffened. Three Apaches stood on the pass he had just ridden down with his friend. "Don't move," he murmured.

Washburn and Mano looked up.

"Apaches. Be on alert, " the sergeant told his men. The soldiers readied their guns.

"Sergeant, tell your soldier boys to hold their fire," Buck advised calmly.

The man turned around. "Hold your fire," he ordered.

The Apaches rode down the pass. Just before they came within range of the army rifles, they stopped. Only the leader of the raiding party came up to them. He wore a cotton shirt and a pair of trousers in the manner of the whites. Across his nose and cheekbones, a black stripe had been painted as a sign of his power of command. He was holding a lance with a white feather in his hand. Buck looked uneasily to Mano. Since his brother-in-law did not move, he stayed put as well.

"Ghost Medicine Man say buffalo soldiers must stop putting up whispering wires," the Apache told the sergeant. "Whispering wires bring more soldiers. Ghost Medicine Man say that a bad thing."

The warrior's gaze wandered over to Buck and Mano. Manolito signalled his neutrality by holding his rifle loosely in front of his body, his hands far enough away from the trigger to make a surprise attack impossible. Buck wore no apparent weapon. He held his horse by the reins with both hands and looked down.

"You tell your ghost medicine men or whatever you call them these poles are the property of the United States government, and you better leave them alone," the sergeant answered the warrior.

"You will not take down the whispering wires?" the Apache asked.

Washburn signalled his soldiers to ready their guns. "Now, you get out of here." The warrior wheeled his horse around and rode away with his men.

Mano shook his head. "Ay yi yi. That was not wise, Señor Sergeant," he sighed. "Why not explain a telegraph to them? Then they would not fear it."

The man shrugged. "I don't need you to tell me my job. You still want the horse?"

"I want the horse," Manolito replied quickly.

Washburn turned around. "Corporal." The man handed over the reins to his superior, who in turn gave them to Mano.

Manolito nodded curtly. "Gracias."

Buck threw the rifle to his brother-in-law, and the two rode off.

The sergeant watched them go. "Hey," he called out after a few seconds.

Buck and Mano stopped again. "What?" Manolito asked over his shoulder.

"You are heading in the wrong direction for the Chaparral. You're going after that slave girl?"

Manolito looked at his friend. Buck signalled his assent with an almost imperceptible gesture. Mano nodded.

"In that case, you better pay for the horse," the sergeant decided.

Manolito laughed, fishing a coin out of his pocket. "Remember what my compadre said. There may be more than those three," he warned.

Washburn took it in stride. "We can take care of ourselves," he answered.

"Good." Mano threw him the coin. "Adios, Señor Sergeant. Vamonos, caballito," he told his new horse and hurried to catch up with his brother-in-law.

The three Apaches had watched the events from the pass. They now turned to ride back to the rest of their raiding party.

Buck heard the faint sound of gunfire. It was just loud enough that he could make it out over the hoofbeat of their horses. "Hold it," he called out to his brother-in-law. "You hear that?"

They stopped on a hill. Buck turned his head back and forth a few times to identify the direction from which the shots were coming.

Mano nodded. "Los soldados," he said seriously.

"Let's hurry," Buck urged.

They raced back across the plains. When the shooting ceased after a few seconds, they knew that they would come too late. They dismounted at the battle site. Buck took the reins. Manolito, rifle in hand, took a few steps into the carnage and looked around. The wagon with the wooden telegraph poles had been turned into a giant blazing torch. Nothing stirred. None of the soldiers had survived. The sergeant had not even found the time to pocket his coin. Mano sadly looked at Buck and shook his head in silence. His brother-in-law straightened up. Manolito turned. A dozen Apache warriors had appeared on the pass. When they saw that they had been noticed, they galloped toward the two friends.

"Mano, I think now is the time to bargain," Buck said tensely.

"Estoy acuerdo," his friend answered through clenched teeth.

The Apaches again stopped just out of gun range. Manolito looked around. He finally found the right object. He took the lance with which the sergeant had been killed. It was a war lance, but it had one crucial feature: it had two white feathers. Mano held the lance horizontally over his head, then pushed it into the earth with the tip facing upwards as a sign of peace. The leader of the raiding party, who had spoken to the sergeant before, rode up to him.

Manolito greeted the warrior in sign language. He put his right palm against his chest, then extended his arm toward the warrior. "We wish to speak with your chief," he began.

"Tobar," the raiding party leader supplied the name curtly.

Mano nodded. "Sí, the great Tobar. We wish to bargain with him. We come in peace."

The Apache looked at him silently. Mano finally handed him his gun and motioned for his brother-in-law to do likewise. Buck sullenly threw the warrior his rifle. The raiding party leader half turned on his horse and waved for his warriors to come forward.

"You must not insult the great Tobar by not allowing him to speak with us," Manolito insisted.

The Apache said something to his men in his own language. Buck did not understand a single word. The warriors surrounded him and Mano. The raiding party leader motioned for them to mount. He grabbed Buck's hat, put it on, said some more unintelligible things and rode off. Buck looked at Mano. His brother-in-law returned his gaze with a discreet smile. "Follow your hat."

So far, Big John's search for his two missing family members had got nowhere. Cunning as he was, Mano had managed to buy Buck the necessary time. He had taken a nondescript horse to make it harder to identify the hoof prints. At first it had been relatively easy to follow Buck's trail, even without Mackadoo's hoof prints for reference. But as the two friends had left the border of the Cannon ranch behind and had entered Apache territory, Big John had lost the trail very quickly. Buck and Mano certainly knew how to hide their tracks. And Mano knew the area better than anybody else of the High Chaparral crew. John stopped to let his men spread out again.

"No sign of them, Mr. Cannon," Ira said when they returned to the rancher.

Big John realized that he should have asked Ann to describe the way. "Yeah. We'll try that rise," he answered stonily and set the pace.

Meanwhile Buck and Manolito had been brought before the chief. Arms crossed over his chest, Tobar awaited them in front of a wickiup. Like the leader of the raiding party, a stripe had been painted across his nose and cheeks. But whereas the leader's was black, Tobar's was yellow. This probably meant that he held supreme command, Buck speculated. He glanced sullenly towards the leader who had taken up position to the left of the chief, still wearing Buck's hat.

Mano made the greeting sign. "Tobar, I want to buy the girl. The slave girl. Olive. Natahay," he began and took out his purse. "I have gold."

The chief said something in his own language.

"He wants to give us to the squaws for torture," Mano translated under his breath.

An Apache came out of the wickiup behind them. He wore a shirt with red and white stripes. "Cannon," he began as he took up position on the right-hand side of the chief. He had to be the medicine man, Buck thought. Who else would have the right to interrupt the chief in his speech? "I know Cannon. High Chaparral. She good woman."

"Hey, he means Victoria," Mano whispered after a second of surprise.

Buck, who mirrored the chief's stance, spoke up. "We come to buy the slave, to bargain. We are friends."

"No friends. No more," the medicine man told him angrily.

"If you kill us, Gold Shoulders will hunt you down," Buck replied confidently.

The medicine man gave the leader of the raiding party an order. The warrior disappeared into the wickiup. Seconds later he reappeared. He threw the colonel's jacket at Buck's feet, golden shoulder insignia atop. The medicine man took the rapid fire rifle and shot three times in the air in quick succession. "Gold Shoulders, pony soldier dead," he explained.

"Why do the Apaches kill?" Buck demanded.

"Why do your people kill?" the medicine man countered. "Only one good. Woman who helped Nock-Ay-Del."

"Señora Cannon," Buck nodded solemnly, putting a hand on Manolito's shoulder. "She is his sister."

The medicine man translated for his chief, then turned back to Buck and Mano. "Tobar say, one of you must pass test of courage," he announced. "Pass, you both will live. You fail, you both die."

"Mano, this test, what does it mean?" Buck asked his brother-in-law under his breath.

"I have heard of many different kinds, amigo,"Mano replied just as quietly.

Tobar beckoned them to follow him. It seemed the whole tribe had gathered to take a look at the two white men who had dared to pay them a visit. Buck nodded towards Olive. "There she is," he pointed her out to his friend as they followed Tobar to a shelter.

Three men—an old one in the middle, a younger one to his right and his left respectively—sat cross-legged on a blanket and awaited them. Tobar spoke to the old man. The Apache handed him a covered basket.

"There are two draws in basket. The one who draws red will suffer test," the medicine man explained.

"No need to do that. That is my idea. I'll take the test," Buck protested.

"You will draw. It is the Apache way," the medicine man told him sternly.

Buck shook his head. "No. I ain't gonna give my friend…"

"Buck, it makes no difference," Mano interruped him, smiling at his brother-in-law reassuringly. "Save your breath. Besides, I feel very lucky today."

"Mano-" Buck began anew.

"You will draw," the medicine man exclaimed angrily. The warriors advanced on them, their lances at the ready.

"Por favor, draw," Mano said, "or we will both die right here." His brother-in-law took a deep breath and nodded.

The medicine man held out the basket to them. Simultaneously, Buck and Mano pushed their hands in, took a lot each and pulled their hands back out. They turned their fists upward and opened their hands. Buck held the green lot in his hand, Mano the red one.

"What kind of luck is that?" Buck threw his lot angrily to the ground.

"Very bad luck," Manolito said in dismay.

"Trade me, Mano," Buck pleaded.

His brother-in-law shook his head. "No, gracias." Manolito began to smile, looking thoughtfully at the mountains in the background. "I always wondered how much courage I really have. This is my chance to find out. I cannot let it pass."

Tobar's face lit up.

Buck and Manolito had been given a wickiup of their own so that they could prepare for the test. Buck examined the dwelling in detail. It was dome-shaped, had a diameter of about three meters and a height of two meters. The framework consisted of flexible wooden poles which had been driven into the earth, each about three inches apart from the next. The tips had been tied together with ropes. The structure had been layered with grass mats. A curtain that had been fixed to a crossbeam covered the entrance; a bear-skin covered part of the ground. Apart from that, the furnishings were missing. There were no blankets or firewood, let alone something to eat. And they were not allowed to leave their wickiup, either.

Mano leaned against the wall with his eyes closed. He seemed to be calmness itself. Buck sat beside his friend, knees drawn up. He pushed the curtain aside from time to time to look out. Four Apaches in elaborate costumes with painted upper body and head masks were dancing in the cleared area next to the fire. A young warrior in a bright red cotton shirt beat the drum.

"They sure are having a fine old time out there," Buck said gloomily.

Manolito looked at him. "He is telling them that they will never die if they fall in battle. They'll come back again and again," he explained quietly.

"Mano, what do you think they have in store for you?" Buck wanted to know.

"I have heard of one that is favoured," Manolito said thoughtfully.

"What's that?" his friend asked with a good deal of apprehension.

"Jesuit missionaries tried to civilize them. Those that stayed alive long enough. And the Apache always liked the stories from the Bible. Like the crucifixion. But they always add something of their own."

Buck's heart plummeted. He turned away and looked out again, fighting to at least appear calm. He did not want to let on how afraid he suddenly was for his best friend. Mano, however, noticed Buck's tension and squeezed his friend's shoulder. "Relax, compadre," he advised. "This ceremony will take all night. The test won't start before sunrise."

Buck sank back against the wall with a sigh, put his arm around Mano and pulled him close. He shut his eyes, forcing himself to calm down. The next days he would have to be fit.

His head pillowed on his brother-in-law's shoulder, Mano felt Buck's breathing return to normal and then pass into the slow rhythm of sleep. After a while, Manolito fell asleep as well. The beat of the drum and the stomping of the dancers' feet followed him into his dreams. Gradually, the cold crept up in Mano, too. He moved restlessly, unintentionally waking his brother-in-law. Buck pulled him closer and rubbed his arms. But there was no helping it, Mano was wide awake. Buck finally began to quietly talk about his childhood. About the piece of land on which he had lived with his parents and his brother. About the tricks he had played on a boy in his village who had disliked him for no apparent reason. Mano smiled. He knew Buck needed the distraction just as much as he did. And he suspected that Buck tried to repay him in kind. Mano had told Buck what he knew about Apache customs, letting his friend see a glimpse of his life before he had come to the High Chaparral. And now Buck was returning the favour.

Buck woke. It took him a moment to realize what had woken him up. It was the silence. The Apaches had finished their ceremony. Buck looked out into the dawning day. His eyes fell on the wooden cross. The next instant, the chief, the medicine man and the leader of the raiding party appeared in front of his wickiup. Buck had not seen them coming. He winced imperceptibly, throwing them such an angry glance that they almost took a step backwards. Mano tugged at his friend's sleeve. Buck nodded towards the cross and vacated their dwelling. Manolito took off his shirt, then followed his brother-in-law outside. The whole tribe—men, women and children, young and old, the free and the slaves—had gathered to witness the test of courage. Together with the leader of the raiding party and the medicine man, Buck stood to one side of the cross, watching Manolito being tied to it upside down.

"Each warrior will strike his body once in passing with the whip. Your friend must not scream out in pain. If he shows no fear…" the medicine man explained.

"He knows," Buck interrupted him.

Tobar was standing at some distance from the cross. From there the warriors rode towards Mano at Tobar's command. The trial began. The first warrior rode up, striking his whip across Mano's belly. The second and third man hit him in about the same place. The fourth struck his whip across Mano's chest. The fifth struck so hard that he lost his whip; it dangled from the crossbeam. When he recovered it, he held his hand. Obviously it had not been painless for him, either, Buck noted with satisfaction. He himself showed no emotion. Olive, however, winced with every blow. She pressed her hand on her mouth so that no sound would escape her.

The test went on. The next lash hit Mano across his ribcage, another just below his throat. Some of the blows hit his arms, too. There seemed to be no end of it. Manolito had long since ceased counting the blows, focusing merely on staying conscious and keeping himself from screaming out in pain. Buck inwardly heaved a mighty sigh of relief when Tobar finally nodded.

"Your friend has great courage," the leader of the raiding party said solemnly to Buck, handing him back his hat.

The Apaches untied Mano to take him to the wickiup. Manolito could not walk; the ropes had cut too deep. His feet had become numb and did not want to carry him. So they simply dragged him off. Suddenly Buck stood in their way. Dusting off his clothes, he looked daggers at them. The Apaches returned his gaze in an almost friendly manner. Buck scooped his brother-in-law into his arms and carried him to the wickiup. The medicine man pushed the curtain aside to let Buck enter. Buck looked around. There were still no blankets to be had. Buck could not possibly put his brother-in-law down on the ground if he did not want to risk infection of the wounds. He finally sat back against the wall and leaned Mano against his shoulder. The medicine man reappeared at the entrance.

"Once your friend has recovered, you ride out," he said, handed Buck a cup of water and disappeared again.

Buck looked at the cup suspiciously. He took a cautious sip. The water tasted bitter. Could it be - quinine? Buck grinned in relief. So the test was not designed to kill outright. He just had to get his brother-in-law home in one piece, and everybody would be satisfied. Buck made his friend drink the water, then gently dressed him in the shirt. The jacket he pulled only over Mano's left arm. The right one had been injured too much. Besides, the garment fit very tightly. It would only succeed in letting Mano feel his wounds that much more strongly. Buck took his time. He did not want his friend to ride too soon.

After a restless night Big John and his men had broken camp at the crack of dawn to resume their search. Gradually they came closer to the Dragoon Mountains, but without finding a trace of their missing friends. Seeing the vultures circling in the sky, they stopped, aghast.

"That don't have to be Buck and Manolito, Pa," Blue said after a moment's hesitation.

"Let's go see," his father replied with a gravelly voice and rode ahead.

Buck heaved Manolito onto the horse, looking anxiously up at him. His friend gave him a brief nod before he righted the jacket with his left arm. Buck turned to his own horse. Tobar, the medicine man and the leader of the raiding party brought Olive to him.

"Take this Natahay. She is yours," the medicine man said. His anger of the day before had changed to a respectful tone. "Go. You will not be harmed."

Buck mounted. The leader of the raiding party lifted the girl up to him. Buck nodded curtly to the warrior and rode with Mano silently away from the camp. The three Apaches watched them go. Manolito succeeded in staying in the saddle but could not manage more than a walking pace.

The search party from the High Chaparral had arrived at the plains where the soldiers had set up the telegraph poles. John called a halt. He looked through his binoculars. Shocked by what he saw up close all of a sudden, he let them fall back down.

"Pa?" Blue asked anxiously. "What is it, Pa?"

Big John rode on in silence. He seemed to be almost lagging, Blue noticed and became more nervous with every step.

The High Chaparral crew followed Big John wordlessly to the killed soldiers. Blue took off his hat. They said a short prayer, then proceeded to bury the men. Despite their bitterness about so much bloodshed, they were relieved that they had not found Buck and Mano among the dead.

Buck rode beside his brother-in-law, carefully scanning the surroundings. He was looking for a suitable place to rest. Manolito barely managed to stay on his horse by now.

"You all right, Mano?" Buck touched his friend's arm in concern when Manolito sank forward.

Mano straightened up in his saddle, trying to look reassuring.

"Estoy bien, compañero," he gasped, his tone belying his words.

Buck cursed the situation. He held Olive in his arms. The girl had fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion. She could not ride by herself. And Mano not much longer. But the three of them could not ride together on a horse, either. The animal would not be able to carry them for any length of time. And constantly changing horses was not something Mano would be able to do. The situation was becoming desperate. Buck's nerves began to fray.

Blue put the cross on the last grave. "We're done, Pa," he said. His father kept silent, looking over to the pass with a grim expression on his face.

"You're figuring it could have been Cochise or renegades?" Blue asked uncertainly.

"I don't know, boy," the rancher replied finally.

"It could have been the ghost medicine men they talk about," Blue speculated further.

Big John nodded. "Yeah, could have been."

"Pa? Buck and Manolito, they ain't dead. I know they ain't," his son insisted.

"We'll find out, boy," John relented. He took Blue's arm and led him to the horses.

Buck had finally found a suitable resting place. He woke Olive, then took Mano's horse by the bridle and led it to the derelict ranch.

"Buck, let's just ride on," Manolito begged. He was not sure if he could muster the strength to get up again after the rest.

His brother-in-law did not answer. He tied the horses to the corral fence and simply lifted Mano from the saddle. Mano's knees buckled, and his friend carefully lowered him to the ground. Manolito leaned against the fence post in utter exhaustion. Buck opened Mano's shirt and gently put a hand on his brother-in-law's chest. "Your heart is racing so fast even a champion drummer would have trouble to keep up with that beat," he said grimly. "If you had ridden on much longer, you would have found yourself down in the grass - or under it."

Mano looked back at his brother-in-law who angrily unsaddled the horses to let them graze. He had heard the concern in Buck's voice loud and clear. He had to smile. Somehow Buck always found the words to sum up a situation succinctly. Manolito began to carefully loosen his shirt that clung to his wounds by way of dried blood.

Buck returned with his canteen. He took a small sip, then handed it to Olive. "Mano, I will go and ride ahead, try to get some help," Buck suggested.

"No." Manolito shook his head.

"Mano-" Buck tried again.

"I said no, hombre," Manolito replied adamantly. He did not want to be left alone. "Ay, ow," he cried suddenly, looking at Olive who had been trying to clean his wounds. The girl made an embarrassed face. Mano peered at her more closely. "You never talk, muchacha. Now, let us get rid of that." Mano cut the leather thongs around her neck with his knife. Olive began to cry, and Mano took her in his arms. "It is all over, chiquita. It is all over. No lloras mas."

Buck took the last supplies from his saddlebags. When Olive had calmed down, he went back to his two charges. After the meal, he spread a blanket on the ground. He brought his saddle to Mano to use it as headrest. He helped his friend lie down and covered him with their second blanket. "Sleep, Mano. You need it. We'll ride on in two hours."

Buck stayed with Manolito until his friend had fallen asleep. Then he set out to search for water. He got bitterly disappointed. The well had caved in. He would need to rebuild it first before he would be able to get at the water. Buck restlessly scouted the area but found no other source. If only another rancher had settled here. Then he might have found a still-functioning well. But after the first occupants had died or left ages ago, nobody had wanted to risk his life again. This area was much too close to Apache lands for comfort.

After two hours Buck woke his friend. He mounted behind Manolito to support him and gave him the last of their water. When he was sure that Mano could stay in the saddle without help, he took Olive and mounted his own horse. They rode from the ranch at a walking pace.

The men of the High Chaparral had made their way to the Dragoon Mountains without finding a trail. They had finally cancelled their search to look for a place to spend the night.

"Ho!" Blue raised his arm, signalling his companions to stop. He had noticed movement on the plains before them. The others had discovered the two riders as well and gazed intently into the setting sun.

Blue shaded his eyes with his right hand. "Hard to make out who it is, Pa," he announced.

"Yeah," his father replied curtly.

Blue tried again. "It's Buck and Mano," he suddenly shouted in excitement and rode with the cheering ranch hands to meet the two.

"Hey, Buck, Manolito, we were looking for you everywhere! Where were you? Finally! About time that you resurface," it came from all sides.

Buck and Mano did not respond to this, but kept their slow pace. The welcome calls stopped, giving way to confusion. Buck topped it off by stopping his and Mano's horse. Fearing an ambush, the men of the High Chaparral themselves stopped at a safe distance, looking around warily, their hands on their guns. Everything stayed quiet. Blue took heart and rode up to Manolito.

"Sam," Buck called. The foreman passed the reins of his horse to Joe and ran over. Mano moaned. Buck handed the girl to the foreman and hastily dismounted.

"Mano?" Blue asked in a small voice.

"I have a dizziness," Manolito groaned. A moment later he slid off his horse.

Buck caught his friend and knelt with him on the ground. Manolito lay there, unmoving. "Mano," Buck cried, his nerves fraying at last, and shook his friend slightly.

Manolito turned his head. Seeing Buck's horrified face looming over him, he smiled exhaustedly, then closed his eyes again. His head fell to the side.

Buck looked seriously up at his brother. "Mucho hombre, much man," he said. Big John nodded solemnly. Buck hugged his brother-in-law and bowed his head, fighting to regain his composure.

The others looked on, speechless. Even Big John remained silent. Buck finally took command. "We're going to spend the night right here," he decided. "Mano won't ride a single step any more. Blue, unsaddle my horse and bring me my bedroll. John, I need water."

"Buck, it'll be getting dark pretty soon," Joe put in. "Five miles from here in the direction of the Chaparral is the river. Why not get Mano there and-"

"No. That's out of the question," Buck insisted. "You and Pedro take the canteens, fill them up and bring them here. But before you go, you leave me your bandages."

"How many do you need?" Joe asked in confusion.

"All of them." The ranch hands winced, sucking in sharp breaths.

"Buck, you might want to explain what happened," Big John told his brother.

"That can wait. Build a fire. I need some light."

"A fire? Here in Apache country? You must be out of your mind," the rancher protested.

"Chief Tobar assured us that nothing will happen to us," Buck replied firmly. "Now, get a move on. Mano must be taken care of."

Blue spread out the bedroll in front of his uncle. Buck lifted Mano onto the padding and gently peeled his friend out of the shirt. The ranch hands stared thunderstruck at the welts. Buck repeated his commands, and this time they were obeyed. The canteens were emptied into bowls and cups. Joe and Pedro rode off to fetch fresh water. Ira brought Buck the bandages. When it got dark, the fire burned.

Buck started to clean the wounds. Manolito opened his eyes. "Compadre, por favor," he groaned.

"Mano, I can't leave you like this. If I don't stop the bleeding for good, you're gonna die," Buck said softly. He squeezed his friend's hand encouragingly. "I'll hurry. It'll be over soon."

Buck carefully washed the wounds with soap and water. He put on honey - the only disinfectant he had with him - before covering and bandaging the welts. First he treated the arms, then moved on to the upper body. He had to turn Mano on the side to be able to clean the welts all the way. Manolito gasped but held still. However, when Buck tackled the wounds on his ankles, where the ropes had cut him, he could stand it no longer and began to squirm. Buck took his friend in his arms and asked John to continue. Manolito pressed his face against Buck's shoulder as tightly as he could. John finally finished, and Mano's breathing steadied. Buck helped his friend into the bedroll and sat down with him beside the fire. He slowly outlined for his brother what had happened.

Buck was too guilt-ridden and exhausted to give a detailed account. Big John wanted to shake his brother and make him hurry with his narration. Buck's hesitancy grated on his nerves. But, like the rest of the crew, he kept silent, knowing that his brother would take his impatience for anger or accusation and simply shut up.

"Mano had this bright idea to buy Olive rather than fight for her," Buck began and put the canteen to Mano's lips, watching his friend drink.

"But Tobar was having none of it. He made us draw lots, saying that one of us had to take the test of courage if we wanted his slave girl." Buck stared at Olive for a long moment. The girl had fallen asleep in Sam's arms, and Sam had covered her with a blanket, tucking it around her protectively.

John turned his head to look at his foreman as well. Sam would make a great father, he thought idly.

Buck took a shaky breath. "Mano drew the red lot and had to take the test. The Apaches tied him upside down to a cross and gave him a whipping he won't forget in a hurry."

The ranch hands gasped. Buck leaned over Mano and bowed his head, hiding his face, and the tears that suddenly glittered in his eyes, from the firelight. He put a gentle hand on Manolito's forehead, then offered the canteen to his brother-in-law again.

"Mano passed and we got Olive," Buck finally went on in a hollow voice. "Then we rode homeward, and you found us."

"Buck," Mano whispered.

Buck met his gaze then, and Manolito grew concerned when he saw the desperation in his best friend's eyes. He managed a weak smile. "I won't die, compañero. You'll see."

Buck kept silent, forcing his emotions back under control. He should be grateful, he supposed. They had only tied Mano to the cross. Had they used nails–which would most likely have been rusty as hell, if he knew the Apaches–it would have been so much worse. Buck closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. Mano did have a chance. Buck vowed that he would keep his best friend alive, no matter what it took.

For starters, he made him drink water all night to compensate for the blood loss. Two hours before dawn, Manolito finally fell asleep. And Buck put in a few hours of sleep, too.

Late in the morning they set out again. Very soon the ride got difficult for Manolito. He felt the way he looked - bruised all over. Buck decided to ride the five miles to the river. It carried clean, cold water from the mountains. In the shade of the trees they could set up camp as long as was necessary. Buck bathed in the river with Mano and re-dressed the wounds. Then he let his friend sleep and lay down himself. To secure their supplies for the next days, Big John butchered a calf from the High Chaparral. He had captured it together with Joe and Pedro and had brought it to their campsite. After they had eaten, Buck sent John ahead to the ranch with Olive and the others. He only asked Joe to stay with him and Mano. Joe prepared the meals and alternately stood guard with Buck. After another day of rest, Mano managed to muster enough strength that he could ride to the ranch with them. Buck admitted that it might be too soon, but he was anxious to get Mano home where he could care for him properly.

"Can you make the detour to get your stuff we have hidden?" Buck asked his brother-in-law as they rode homewards.

Manolito nodded bravely. Buck was not entirely convinced but said nothing. Instead, he made frequent rest stops. They arrived at the hideout at noon. Buck hesitated for a moment. Should he send Joe to the ranch to get the buckboard? But then it would take even longer until Mano would be home. And how would this look to the Apaches? Buck was sure they were still watching, since Tobar would not have promised him safe passage otherwise. Would they think it cheating if Mano rode home on the buckboard instead of on his horse? Not wanting to take any risks, Buck loaded Mano's stuff onto Rebel and mounted behind his friend. Mano did not protest, and Buck knew that he had done the right thing.

Despite the support, the ride became ever more difficult for Manolito. Buck cast about for something to say in order to distract his friend but found no suitable topic. He thought back to the test of courage. Something bothered him about it. It took him quite a while to realize what it was.

"The draw had been a set-up," Buck told his brother-in-law matter-of-factly.

"Of course it was." Mano seemed grateful for the distraction. "If you had been an Apache and had volunteered, they would have accepted you. But since we are whites, it was harder for us. They did not say so, but you took the test, too."

"What do you mean?" Buck asked.

"You were downright begging to trade me," Mano said.

"Yes, because it was my idea. I don't let others suffer for my decisions," Buck replied fiercely. He took a deep breath. "Besides, I don't feel physical pain so much," he added softly. "Being forced to watch friends getting hurt is much worse. Believe me, I would have loved to trade you, Mano."

"The Apaches did believe you, compadre, and made you watch. But that was a good thing."

"I somehow fail to see the merits in this," Buck remarked dryly.

"You are taller than me, stockier than me, compadre. I can't support you the way you are supporting me," Manolito pointed out quietly. "And if we had been alone and you had gone down, I would have been forced to go for help and leave you behind. I doubt that would have been wise."

Buck heaved a sigh and squeezed his friend's hand, remaining silent thereafter all the way to the ranch.

It was already dark when Buck arrived at the High Chaparral. He had to slow down ever more since Mano's strength was depleting. Joe had ridden ahead to announce them. Ann and Olive were already asleep, but the rancher couple was waiting for them on the porch.

"John, Victoria," Buck greeted them and quickly looked away again. He was not eager to see Victoria's reaction. He lifted Mano from the saddle and led him into the house. On the stairs he stopped. Manolito was leaning on him with almost all of his weight.

"Let me help you, amigo," Buck asked quietly.

"Gracias, compadre," Mano gasped in relief.

Buck lifted his friend into his arms and carried him up the stairs.

Victoria followed him. "We put the girls up in your room, Buck," she said quickly.

"Good." Her brother-in-law hesitated on the upper landing. "But Mano's room is free?"

Victoria nodded and opened the door for him.

Buck sat his friend down on the bed. Manolito clutched his arm. "You all right, Mano?" Buck asked worriedly.

"I once heard about the rotation of the Earth," Manolito whispered. "Do you believe that?"

Buck smiled. "After enough whisky, I do. You believe that as well, I take it?"

Mano swallowed. "Let's say the idea is going around in my head."

Buck's smile disappeared. He sat against the headboard and leaned Mano against his shoulder. He looked up at Victoria who was standing beside the bed, wringing her hands. "Get me some fresh water and something to eat. And some soup for Mano."

Victoria nodded and left. A moment later she came back with the water jug. "I need to warm up the soup first. It's going to take a while. What do you want to eat?"

Buck shrugged. "Whatever you've got. I'm not particularly hungry." He began to open Mano's shirt.

Buck had just finished changing the bandages when Victoria came in with the tray. He propped his friend up against his shoulder once more and started in on their supper.

Victoria wished them a good night and joined her husband in the bedroom. "I know you told me about the test, John, but I had thought Manolito would be better by now. It's been three days," she said with a frown.

Big John nodded seriously. "As far as I know, most men don't survive this test."

Victoria looked at him in shock.

"Mano is still alive and on the road to recovery," the rancher hastily continued. "And Buck is taking care of him."

"Well, since it was Buck who got him in this predicament," Victoria replied pointedly.

"If Buck had known how it would turn out, he would never have allowed Mano to go with him, you know that." John took his wife by the shoulders and looked at her anxiously. "Please don't blame him."

"I won't," Victoria promised him. "Buck is blaming himself more than I ever could."

John nodded and went to the window, staring off into the distance. This was the reason why he stayed out of Buck's way. One wrong move, one wrong word from him or anybody else on this ranch, and Buck would leave as soon as Mano was back on his feet. Big John did not want that.

The next morning when Buck came down for breakfast, Ann and Olive ran up to him.

"You're back," Ann beamed, putting her arms around his neck. Olive was not tall enough for that and hugged his leg instead.

Buck laughed. He hugged Ann in return, lifted her little sister into his arms and walked with the girls to the table. "What a pretty dress you're wearing," he remarked to Olive as he sat her down on the chair.

"It once fitted me when I was about Olive's age," Victoria said. She was just coming in from the kitchen with some freshly-baked tortillas.

"Where is your friend? We would like to thank him," Ann said excitedly to Buck.

"Oh, he's sleeping." Buck laughed, but John and Victoria saw the worry lines in his face. "You know, he's still a bit sick and needs a lot of rest. Can you wait another day? Tomorrow he'll be better." Manolito had developed a bit of a fever during the night. The ride had been too strenuous. At least Buck hoped that this was the only reason for the fever.

"You can surely wait one more day," Victoria told the girls. "Today we are going to Tucson. And when we come back, you are probably dead tired."

Ann and Olive gaped. They had almost forgotten how wonderful it was in a city. There were lots of shops and lots of nice people. And sweets. Chocolate. Right after breakfast, they set out. And in the evening they came back exhausted but happy.

Buck had stayed with Mano all day. He had changed the bandages and had helped his friend eat, but had otherwise let him sleep. From time to time he had put a hand on Mano's forehead and had sighed in relief when the temperature had finally returned to normal late in the afternoon.

The next day, shortly after breakfast, the soldiers arrived. John and Victoria asked the commander into the house for some coffee. Right after his return to the ranch, Big John had informed the army that they needed to send a replacement for the colonel and that two white girls had to be escorted to relatives in the North.

Buck was again staying with his friend. He had just taken off the bandages and had begun to apply ointment to Manolito's wounds when Ann and Olive burst into the room. At the door they stopped, startled. The half-healed welts on Manolito's chest looked almost worse than the fresh injuries had.

Buck smiled at the children and waved them in. Ann and Olive came timidly to the bed.

"The girls want to thank you, Mano," Buck finally opened the conversation.

"De nada." Manolito smiled and extended his hand to the girls.

"Goodbye," Ann got out at last when Mano shook her hand.

Buck looked at her questioningly.

"The soldiers are here," she explained.

Buck looked wistful for a moment but pulled himself together immediately. "Well, then go pack up you gear. We'll be down in a minute," he said cheerfully.

The girls nodded and left the room.

Buck helped his brother-in-law get dressed, then led him to the army wagon. Manolito's right arm was so bruised that he still had to carry it in a sling. He had not yet recovered from the blood loss, either, and was still a bit unsteady on his feet. Buck supported him discreetly.

Ann and Olive were sitting on the wagon seat. Victoria had presented them with the dresses they wore, and a few more beside. When she had taken the two children to Tucson the day before, the girls had been allowed to choose their clothes themselves.

"Thank you, Mr. Buck," Olive piped up at last, leaning forward on the bench and smiling down at him.

Buck looked up at her, tipping his hat. "Any time."

"Adios," Mano nodded to her.

Ann said goodbye to Manolito in sign language. Mano responded with the same sign.

"Forward. Ho," the officer commanded, and the wagon began to move.

Buck sadly watched them go. Manolito put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "You know what the Apaches say?" he asked. "You ride the savage land, you're part of it, and it is part of you."

Buck followed the wagon a few more steps. Mano put his left arm around Buck's shoulders and accompanied him.

A huge thank you

to Ann who encouraged me to write down the episodes;

to Louise who provided the English dialogue transcript;

and to Jane who did the proofreading and asked the right questions.