The old frontiersman and the Tonk chief discussed the large Comanche camp that had left the sign while Odell tried to improve his tracking skills. However, all he could be sure of after a long study was the fact that Indians on barefoot ponies had headed off toward the river sometime earlier. He only knew it was Indians from the lines their travois poles had etched into the ground and the large number of dog tracks present. “Do you think they spotted us?” Odell asked. Son grinned at Placido before answering Odell. “Hell, boy, I don’t care how many cold camps that Prussian insists we make. You can’t move through the country with this many men without every Injun out here knowing about it.” That was just what Odell feared. There was no way they were going to head off the Peace Commission before the Comanches decided to attack them. The odds were that numerous small hunting bands or raiding parties had already seen them or crossed their trail.
