d man-killer at times. And the Pinto was reputed
to be a murderer of his own species. Not just content to protect his band
from a raiding stallion, he actually went out of his way to seek and force
a fight with other males. Could it be that now the wild killer had been
drawn from hiding to meet a strange stallion?

And could that stranger be Shiloh? It would mean the men they sought were
circling back to this water hole. Shiloh and the Pinto! Even when saddled
and ridden, the Kentucky stallion might respond to the challenge. And so
handicapped he would have no chance! Drew bit hard on his underlip.

The yap-yap of a coyote sounded brazenly from the ridge behind which Drew
was almost certain the Pinto had trumpeted.

"Pass the word," said Rennie. "Riders coming."

Anse hissed it on to Donally, who hid in the brush behind. Drew lay tense,
as if his whole body was able to listen and assess sounds.

Waiting, as always, fretted the nerves. Imagination gave birth to sounds,
made the quiver of a bush unnatural, planted in a man a growing sense of
eyes boring down on his body, nakedly visible to the enemy. Drew's muscles
ached. He forced tight rein on his imagination and began the hard task of
consciously schooling himself past the danger of a freeze when and if
attack did come.

Wind moaning about the rocks, sand blown in eyes and face. Twice Drew half
put out his hand to the canteen which lay between him and Anse. Both times
he did not complete the reach. His tongue felt swollen, the saliva in his
mouth sticky, sickly tasting.

No sun--this was going to be a cloudy, overcast day.

He half arose. That scream came again, this time closer, more rage-filled.
Drew turned his head.

"Cover me!" He did not give Anse a chance to protest.

That slope ... he had been studying it carefully for long moments of the
wait, gauging the distances between bits of cover, the tricky open spaces
he would have to cross. But the riders they had been alerted to expect
were not in sight, and if what he truly believed was about to happen did,
the outlaws might never reach the water hole at all.

He was running, dodging, working his way up to the crown of the ridge. But
he was still too low to see what was going on at the far side when that
scream of challenge was answered. The answer was deeper in tone, but it
carried with it the same rising note of anger and fighting promise.
Although Drew had never seen Shiloh prepare to give battle, he w