Chincho knew that he must obey the law of his tribe regarding any animal a brave has wounded. He must track the wounded deer until he either came upon him dead or could get close enough to make the kill. Long ago the tribe had ruled wisely that it was cruel to let a wounded animal wander the forest in pain, possibly suffering so much that it would injure other animals, and possibly dying from loss of blood or from a sickness from the wound. Chincho was tempted not to follow the deer into the unknown woods, when he felt Maseca’s gaze upon him. “Chincho, you do not plan to leave without finding the wounded deer. It is the law of our tribe.” Chincho looked guilty and said, “It is not a bad wound. The arrow barely scratched him. He will be all right. Come, let us return to the village before it is dark.” “No,” Maseca insisted, “we must follow the deer until we bring him down. You must not leave a wounded animal to suffer. It is the law.” Chincho knew that Maseca was right, and yet in his heart he was afraid. So he tried to excuse his cowardice by saying, “But it is also the law of our tribe that we shall not wander too far from the familiar parts of our land. We could become lost here in the green forest. We should turn back.” As he started to turn, Chincho saw a challenging look in Maseca’s eyes and he waited as Maseca spoke. “You may return to the village claiming that the law says one should not wander too far, but I will follow the deer and make sure of his death. I will mark my trail plainly so that by night or by day I can follow it back to my starting place. Go, Chincho. Return to your father’s home and see if you can sleep peacefully when you think of the deer you have wounded.” Even while he was speaking, Maseca realized that his friend’s fear was very great, and that it would be a mistake to force Chincho to follow the buck. Maseca would have to worry as much about calming Chincho’s fear as he would have to worry about finding the way back for both of them. Chincho thought that Maseca would laugh at him and insisted now on going with Maseca to trail the deer. So they started to follow the drops of blood they found on the plants as they went through the forest. Maseca broke branches and cut slices of bark from the sides of trees to mark the path they were taking. For awhile the big buck had run straight ahead as fast as he could in spite of the wound. Then the crushed grass showed where he had lain down to rest for a moment. But the grass was rising up straight again, which told the boys that the deer had not rested long, sensing the danger close by. Soon they saw fewer blood spots, and they knew that the blood was starting to clot. Now, Maseca knew the deer could live for some time yet. “It grows late,” he warned Chincho. “We must hurry if we are to catch up with the deer and claim our kill. We have only a short while left before the sun will sink.”