What they said was true: Buffalo Hump's lodge appeared to be empty; there was no sign that he had used it for two or three days. Last Horse started to go inside the lodge and see if Buffalo Hump had left anything behind, but when he got to the entrance he stopped. Buffalo Hump was unpredictable; he might be in his lodge, waiting quietly for some fool to slip in and try to rob him. He might be waiting with his big knife.

Even if he wasn't waiting, even if he was truly gone, entering his lodge was not a step to be taken lightly. After all, he might only have gone on a hunt; he might return and make an issue of the fact that his lodge had been entered without his permission. Last Horse hesitated-- he had been afraid of Buffalo Hump all his life. Even if he knew that Buffalo Hump were dead he would have felt the need for caution. Such a chief would have a powerful spirit, one that might come back and work evil on interferers. Alive or dead, Buffalo Hump was a power Last Horse did not want to confront. He immediately got his rifle and set off for the northeast, to look for Blue Duck.

Last Horse had grown up with Blue Duck. Last year, while on a hunt, he had run into Blue Duck and some of his men; he feared trouble, but instead Blue Duck was friendly and even gave him some of his whiskey, a liquid he liked very much, although the sickness that came the next day was not pleasant.

In the morning, to his surprise, Blue Duck had given him two pistols and a watch.

Later in the day, while still feeling the unpleasantness that resulted from drinking so much whiskey, Last Horse had a most unfortunate accident while trying to load one of his new pistols. Because he was a little shaky he let the hammer slip while the pistol was pointed at his foot, the result being that he shot off the middle toe on his right foot. Such a foolish accident caused Last Horse great embarrassment, but it amused the ruffians who rode with Blue Duck very much. They began to tease him and call him Lost Toe--theirthe rude behaviour annoyed Last Horse greatly. Before he left to go home Blue Duck himself brewed some leaves and made a little poultice to put on his toe.

"How do you know how to make medicine?" Last Horse asked.

"A witch woman taught me," Blue Duck said.

Then he revealed the real reason he had been so generous with Last Horse: he wanted Last Horse to keep an eye on Buffalo Hump and let him know if the old man left the camp to go on a hunt or a journey. Blue Duck made no secret of the fact that he meant to kill Buffalo Hump. All the Comanches, including Buffalo Hump, had known of Blue Duck's intentions for many years, but Buffalo Hump, old as he was, feared no one and didn't let the threat keep him from going where he pleased.

Blue Duck showed Last Horse a fine rifle, with silver on the stock. He promised to give Last Horse the rifle if he would come quickly and let him know if Buffalo Hump left camp.

Once back with the tribe, Last Horse could not get the fine rifle out of his mind, or the whiskey either. That is why the women's news excited him so.

Last Horse asked all the warriors if Buffalo Hump had mentioned where he was going--he even asked Kicking Wolf, a man he was afraid of--but Buffalo Hump had spoken to no one. He had just ridden away.

Kicking Wolf seemed a little surprised by the news. He took the trouble to ride out to the horse herd, to see if he could determine how many horses Buffalo Hump had taken with him; when he came back he seemed subdued. He went himself to Buffalo Hump's lodge, to examine the horse tracks--once he had done so he seemed even more subdued.

"He only took that one old horse," Kicking Wolf said. "He has gone to find a place to die." Last Horse did not wait to question Kicking Wolf further. He set off at once to find Blue Duck. He knew he had to get to Blue Duck as soon as possible; if he delayed, Buffalo Hump might go on and die, in which case Blue Duck would have no reason to give him the rifle.

Last Horse did not feel entirely right about his errand, though. He knew that he was doing a thing that would not be approved of. Buffalo Hump had been a great chief, but Blue Duck was only an outlaw. The People might scorn him for taking Blue Duck such news, but Last Horse kept riding east anyway. He felt sad but he kept riding; his sadness wasn't just from the knowledge that he was doing something that was not too honorable. In the great days of the Comanche people it would not have occurred to him to betray a chief to a brash outlaw who happened to be his son.

The farther Last Horse went from the camp and the tribe, the more he began to doubt that he could ever go back and live among the People again. With the People he was always hungry; everyone in the band was always hungry.

The great days of feasting were over. Peta, their leader, had talked to the whites more than once lately; it would not be long before the band would have to move onto the land the whites wanted them to have.

Because of that, Last Horse felt less bad about what he was doing. He pressed his horse until the horse was lathered white with sweat. There was nothing behind him but sickness and starvation; if he rode with Blue Duck there would at least be food, because Blue Duck hunted in the forests where the deer were still thick.

When Blue Duck saw Last Horse coming, his horse pushed almost to the point of death, he immediately slipped his ammunition belts over his shoulder. If the Comanche had run his horse almost to death it could only be because he had urgent news of Buffalo Hump. Blue Duck went to a little wagon where he kept his whiskey and pulled out a bottle, which he handed to Last Horse as soon as the Comanche stepped off his stumbling mount.

"You have killed your horse, we might as well eat him," Blue Duck said. "I don't know why you were in such a hurry, unless you have a big thirst for whiskey." Last Horse was almost as tired as his mount.

He wanted to deliver his news at once, before he started drinking the whiskey.

"Buffalo Hump left," he said. "He took only one horse and he went northwest.

Kicking Wolf says he has gone away to die. Now can I have that pretty gun?" He saw the rifle he had been promised, propped against a wagon wheel, the sun glinting off the silver on the stock. Blue Duck walked over and picked it up; he looked at it carefully, as if he had never seen it before. Then, instead of giving it to Last Horse, as he had promised, he pointed it at him instead.

"This gun is too good for a thieving Comanche like you," Blue Duck said. "But since you are here I can let you have the bullets." Blue Duck fired twice; the bullets spun Last Horse around and knocked him to his knees. Several grasshoppers were hopping in the brown grass. Last Horse fell forward. His eyes were still open when one of the yellow grasshoppers hopped onto his face.

Blue Duck took the unopened whiskey bottle out of his hand and put it back in the little wagon. Ermoke, who had been about to snatch it, was disappointed.