The mares were lean and gaunt, their ribs pushing ridges up under their shedding coats. The chestnut stallion was lean, too, but in a hard-muscled way. Lady Ebony had lost much of her fire and love for frolic. The sun was warm and the air soft but she needed rest. She looked away toward the white slopes of the Crazy Kill Range. Spring would not reach the high mesa for another month, but she was restless. She would have headed away into the foothills but the big stallion kept close watch over his band. One day a horseman rode out on a rim. He sat on his bony horse and looked down on the wild band feeding on a bench. For a long time he sat there looking intently before he rode away. Yellow Man smiled as he galloped toward his hogan. There were many good colts in the band and one black mare. The black mare was a horse such as he had never seen before, the sort of mount he had always dreamed about. He would tell the other men about the band, but the black mare was to be his because he had been the first to see her. He rode to his hogan and picketed his pony. Walking to the glowing fire which flickered inside the door he stooped and held out his hands. Four men sat along one wall while a half dozen brown-faced women sat on the other side. On the men’s side of the hogan lay riding things, bridles and blankets, a saddle. On the women’s side were the cooking pots and the blankets. Yellow Man sat down. For a long time he said nothing. His black eyes were on the fire. Finally Yellow Man lifted his eyes to the face of an old man beside him. “I have seen many good horses,” he said. The old man grunted softly while the others bent forward. “There is a black mare who will have a colt this spring,” Yellow Man said. They all nodded. The black mare was to belong to Yellow Man, that was understood. Now they waited for him to go on. “Tomorrow we will run the band. There will be horses for all. The big one who leads may have to be shot. I will take the rifle. The big one is strong and will fight.” Yellow Man’s eyes returned to the fire. The others nodded and began eagerly planning the drive. Through the long winter they had kept busy with sings and chants, meeting with other families in religious dances and ceremonies. This would be the first hunt of the season. * * * * * To the north, behind the high gray walls of the state prison Sam knew when spring came. Through a high, barred window he could see a square of sunlight on the stone wall. Across the upper corner of the square drooped the branches of a cottonwood tree. Sam watched the buds swell and burst into pale-green leaves.