The magnificent gray horse the officer was riding took all of Kee’s attention. The horse’s gait thrilled him. Never had he seen a horse move with such grace and ease. When the officer reined to a stop, the horse stood motionless as the rock spires of Navajoland. Kee worked his way through the crowd to get as close to the horse as he dared. This was the kind of horse he had always dreamed of having. He turned away. He knew he was dreaming impossible dreams. But he would never forget this horse. He would remember and go on dreaming of someday owning such a horse. There could be no greater happiness. The tired travelers were herded toward a large adobe-walled corral. The corral had been built as a gathering place where the Indians could be counted and given ration tickets. A man stood on the top of the wall to count them as they walked through the opening. Soldiers with bayonets stood on each side of the gate to hurry them along. Kee saw the frightened looks on the faces of his family and he tried to look brave, to make them feel secure.
