While he was thinking of the hardship, an awful thought occurred to him. They were now on the open plain, walking through waist-high grass. The canyon was already several miles behind them. But where the Comanches were, no one knew. The Indians could be drawing a circle around them, even as they walked. If they fired the grass again, there would be no canyon to hide them. They had no horses, and even horses had not been able to outrun the fire. “What if they set another fire, Woodrow?” Gus asked. “We’d be fried like that jackrabbit you’re carrying.” Call walked on. What Gus had just said was
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