ruther have it over th' hill
than planted somewhar close ter us; they'd over-run th' camp an'
friction would be shore ter grow. While mebby they can't steal as slick
as th' Pawnees, they kin do it good enough ter make us cross-eyed
watchin' 'em. Some tenderfoot shore will ketch one of 'em stealin' his
belongin's an' start a fight thar an' then, with a hull passel o' 'em
inside th' corral. Wall, we'll soon find out what's goin' ter come of
it; they've jined th' line."

The white defenders eagerly watched the pow-wow being held to the
southwest of the encampment, their rifles balanced for quick handling;
then they slowly relaxed and some rested their weapons on the ground.
The consulting group of warriors split and from it, riding with slow
dignity toward the wagons, came two chiefs and two lesser warriors. They
held up their hands when within rifle shot and stopped. Woodson, Tom,
Franklin, and Haviland, mounted this time, rode with the same slow
dignity out to meet them. Franklin could speak their tongue well enough
to make himself understood, and Woodson and Tom knew the universal sign
language well enough to express themselves in it. As they left the camp
they caught a glimpse of another band of warriors riding around the
upper end of the hill and roughly estimated the combined force to be
close to five hundred. Here was good reason to be as tactful as
possible. When within speaking distance of the Comanche envoys they drew
up and the two groups eyed each other in silence for several minutes.

"Our village on the Washita is no more," said a chief who had enough
long hair to supply any hirsute deficiency of a dozen men and not suffer
by it. "Its ashes are blown by the winds and its smoke brings tears to
the eyes of our squaws and children. Our winter maize is gone and our
storehouses lie about the ground. White Buffalo and his braves were
hunting the buffalo beyond the Cimarron. Their old men and their squaws
and children were with them. Some of my young men have just returned and
brought us this news. What have the white men to say of this?"

"Our hearts are heavy for our friends the Comanches," answered Woodson.
"There are many tribes of white men, as there are many tribes of
Indians. There are the Americanos, the Mexicanos, the Englise, and the
Tejanos. The Americans come from the North and the East along their
great trail, with goods to trade and with friendship for the Comanches.
The Mexicanos would not dare to b