Larry McMurtry - Comanche Moon

"He does not think anyone would try to steal the Buffalo Horse," Kicking Wolf told Three Birds, after they had watched the rangers and their horses for three nights.

"Scull is careless," he added.

Three Birds, for once, had a thought he didn't want to keep inside himself.

"Big Horse is right," Three Birds said. He pointed upward to the heavens, which were filled with bright stars.

"There are as many men as there are stars," Three Birds said. "They are not all here, but somewhere in the world there are that many men." "What are you talking about?" Kicking Wolf said.

Three Birds pointed to the North Star, a star much brighter than the little sprinkle of stars around it.

"Only one star shines to show where the north is," Three Birds said. "Only one star, of all the stars, shines for the north." Kicking Wolf was thinking it was pleasanter when Three Birds didn't try to speak his thoughts, but he tried to listen politely to Three Birds' harmless ^ws about the stars.

"You are like the North Star," Three Birds said. "Only you of all the men in the world could steal the Buffalo Horse. That horse might be a witch--some say that it can fly. It might turn and eat you, when you go up to it. Yet you are such a thief that you are going to steal it anyway.

"Big Horse doesn't know that the North Star has come to take his horse," he added.

"If he knew, he would be more careful." On the fourth night, after studying the situation well, Kicking Wolf decided it was time to approach the Buffalo Horse. The weather conditions were good: there was a three-quarter moon, and the brightness of the stars was dimmed just enough by scudding, fast-moving clouds. Kicking Wolf could see all he needed to see. He had carefully prepared himself by fasting, his bowels were empty, and he had rubbed sage all over his body. Scull even left a halter on the Buffalo Horse.

Once Kicking Wolf had reassured the big horse with his touch and his stroking, all he would have to do would be to take the halter and quietly lead the Buffalo Horse away.

As he was easing along the ground on his belly, so that the lazy guards wouldn't see him, Kicking Wolf got a big shock: suddenly the Buffalo Horse raised its ear, turned its head, and looked right at him. Kicking Wolf was close enough then that he could see the horse's breath making little white clouds in the cold night.

When he realized that the Buffalo Horse knew he was there, Kicking Wolf remembered Three Birds' warning that the horse might be a witch. For an instant, Kicking Wolf felt fear--big fear. In a second or two the big horse could be on him, trampling him or biting him before he could crawl away.

Immediately Kicking Wolf rose to a crouch, and got out of sight of the Buffalo Horse as fast as he could. He was very frightened, and he had not been frightened during the theft of a horse in many years.

The Buffalo Horse had smelled him even though he had no smell, and heard him even though he made no sound.

"I think he heard my breath," he said, when he was safely back with Three Birds. "A man cannot stop his breath." "The other horses didn't know you were there," Three Birds told him. "Only the Buffalo Horse noticed you." Though he was not ready to admit it, Kicking Wolf had begun to believe that Three Birds might be right. The Buffalo Horse might be a witch horse, a horse that could not be stolen.

"We could shoot it and see if it dies," Three Birds suggested. "If it dies it is not a witch horse." "Be quiet," Kicking Wolf said. "I don't want to shoot it. I want to steal it." "Why?" Three Birds asked. He could not quite fathom why Kicking Wolf had taken it into his head to steal the Buffalo Horse. Certainly it was a big stout horse whose theft would embarrass the Texans. But Three Birds took a practical view. If it was a witch horse, as he believed, then it could not be stolen, and if it wasn't a witch horse, then it was only another animal--an animal that would die some day, like all animals. He did not understand why Kicking Wolf wanted it so badly.

"It is the great horse of the Texans--it is the best horse in the world," Kicking Wolf said, when he saw Three Birds looking at him quizzically.

Once he calmed down he decided he had been too hasty in his judgment. Probably the Buffalo Horse wasn't a witch horse at all--probably it just had an exceptionally keen nose. He decided to follow the rangers another day or two, so he could watch the horse a little more closely.

It was aggravating to him that Famous Shoes, the Kickapoo tracker, was with the Texans. Famous Shoes was bad luck, Kicking Wolf thought.

He was a cranky man who was apt to turn up anywhere, usually just when you didn't want to see him. He enjoyed the protection of Buffalo Hump, though: otherwise some Comanche would have killed him long ago.

The old men said that Famous Shoes could talk to animals--they believed that there had been a time when all people had been able to talk freely with animals, to exchange bits of information that might be helpful, one to another. There were even a few people who supposed that Kicking Wolf himself could talk to horses--otherwise how could he persuade them to follow him quietly out of herds that were well guarded by the whites?

Kicking Wolf knew that was silly. He could not talk to horses, and he wasn't sure that anyone could talk to animals, anymore. But the old people insisted that some few humans still retained the power to talk with birds and beasts, and they thought Famous Shoes might be such a person.

Kicking Wolf doubted it, but then some of the old ones were very wise; they might know more about the matter than he did. If the Kickapoo tracker could really talk to animals, then he might have spoken to the Buffalo Horse and told him Kicking Wolf meant to steal him. Whether he could talk to animals or not, Famous Shoes was an exceptional tracker. He would certainly be aware that he and Three Birds were following the Texans. But he was a curious man. He might not have taken the trouble to mention this fact to the Texans--he might only have told the Buffalo Horse, feeling that was all that was necessary.

It was while watching the Buffalo Horse make water one evening that Kicking Wolf remembered old Queta, the grandfather of Heavy Leg, Buffalo Hump's oldest wife.

Queta, too, had been a great horse thief; he was not very free with his secrets, but once, while drunk, he had mentioned to Kicking Wolf that the way to steal difficult horses was to approach them while they were pissing. When a horse made water it had to stretch out--it could not move quickly, once its flow started.

Kicking Wolf had already noticed that the Buffalo Horse made water for an exceptionally long time. The big horse would stretch out, his legs spread and his belly close to the ground, and would pour out a hot yellow stream for several minutes.

If Big Horse Scull was mounted when this happened he sometimes took a book out of his saddlebags and read it. On one occasion, while the Buffalo Horse was pissing, Scull did something very strange, something that went with the view that the Buffalo Horse was a witch horse. Scull slipped backward onto the big horse's rump, put his head on the saddle, and raised his legs. He stood on his head in the saddle while the Buffalo Horse pissed. Of course it was not unusual for men who were good riders to do feats of horsemanship--Comanche riders, particularly young riders, did them all the time. But neither Kicking Wolf nor Three Birds had ever seen a rider stand on his head while a horse was pissing.

"I think Big Horse is crazy," Three Birds said, when he saw that. Those were his last ^ws on the subject and his only ^ws on any subject for several days. Three Birds decided he had been talking too much; he went back to his old habit of keeping his thoughts inside himself.

Kicking Wolf decided he should wait until the Buffalo Horse was pissing before he approached him again. It would require patience, because horses did not always make water at night; they were more apt to wait and relieve themselves in the early morning.