He was unaware that his following had been variously reported in the American and Mexican presses as being a hundred or two hundred strong. What he did know was that there were several thousand white and Mexican troops on the lookout for him. That did not perturb him. He was used to that and it gave him a feeling of honourable respectability. Already his people on the reservations were speaking admiringly of the number of horses, cattle and sheep he had taken.
The only emotion that he knew at this moment as he cleaned his fine Winchester rifle was anger. Three of his men had been killed in the last day. That meant that his natural enemy would also suffer. Equally or more. And it was proper that it should be so. He owed as much to himself and the relatives of the slain men.
He waited now for the reports of his two scouts. He wanted to know more about the people at the ranch. That wagon-train was unusually strong and had unusually resolute men on it. Gato had sent his own son to scout that position.
