he Tatars would never suspect their
flanking unless the Apaches purposefully revealed themselves. Also the
Tatars were not to go to the rancheria, but would be met at a mid-point
by a delegation of Apaches. This was no time for the Tatars to learn
just how few the clan numbered.

Menlik watched Travis flash an acknowledgment to the sentry ahead. "In
this way you speak to your men?"

"This way I speak."

"A thing good and to be remembered. We have the drum, but that is for
the ears of all with hearing. This is for the eyes only of those on
watch for it. Yes, a good thing. And your people--they will meet with
us?"

"They wait ahead," Travis confirmed.

It was close to midday and the heat, gathered in the rocky ways, was
like a heaviness in the air itself. The Tatars had shucked their heavy
jackets and rolled the fur brims of their hats far up their heads away
from their sweat-beaded faces. And at every halt they passed from hand
to hand the skin bag of kumiss.

Now even the ponies shuffled on with drooping heads, picking a way in a
cut which deepened into a canyon. Travis kept a watch for the scouts.
And not for the first time he thought of the disappearance of the
coyotes. Somehow, back in the Tatar camp, he had counted confidently on
the animals' rejoining him once he had started his return over the
mountains.

But he had seen nothing of either beast, nor had he felt that
unexplainable mental contact with them which had been present since his
first awakening on Topaz. Why they had left him so unceremoniously after
defending him from the Mongol attack, and why they were keeping
themselves aloof now, he did not know. But he was conscious of a thread
of alarm for their continued absence, and he hoped he would find they
had gone back to the rancheria.

The ponies thudded dispiritedly along a sandy wash which bottomed the
canyon. Here the heat became a leaden weight and the men were panting
like four-footed beasts running before hunters. Finally Travis sighted
what he had been seeking, a flicker of movement on the wall well above.
He flung up his hand, pulling his mount to a stand. Apaches stood in
full view, bows ready, arrows on cords. But they made no sound.

Kaydessa cried out, booted her mount to draw equal with Travis.

"A trap!" Her face, flushed with heat, was also stark with anger.

Travis smiled slowly. "Is there a rope about you, Wolf Daughter?" he
inquired softly. "Are you now dragged across this sa