ONE<br >CLOUD almost rode upon th~ Indians grazing<br >horse herd before he realized it;~<br > The summer sun had been b~ring down upon<br >him for hours now， sapping his energy， stealing<br >from him the vigilance that he normally never lost<br >while riding across these fringes of Comanche<br >country. In this unrelenting heat it was easy to<br >drowse in the saddle， to let one s mind roam the<br >thousand miles and more to the smoky battlefields<br >of Virginia.<br > There， even now， angry cannons thundered and<br >men died in the blast of shellfire.<br > But here， in these rolling hills that marked the<br >western edge of the Texas cross timbers， it was still<br >and quiet..， so very quiet.<br > He saw the horses and yanked hard on the hair<br >reins， pulling his sorrel back into the green cover of<br ><br >
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