Chapter 3

When he was sure that both Comanches were dead and had chopped off their thumbs at the advice of Storm Who Walks, Bobby rode up to the wagon to check on the health of the two men inside. Both of them stared at Bobby in open mouthed wonder when they saw that he was still a boy; most adults would not have had the skill and nerve to do what he had just done. Bobby asked, "Are you both all right? Not wounded or anything?"

One of the men answered, "Naw, we ain't hurt, but we are much obliged fer the way ya took care of them Injuns. What's yer name, Son?"

"Good, if you are not hurt, then I will resume my pursuit of the rest of that Comanche band. I have taken a warrior name, you may call me Fire Bringer. Goodbye and good luck." With that, he rode off, back the way he had come, with Ada following him.

The other man in the wagon said, "By God, I can't wait ta tell this story. It ought ta be worth two beers at any saloon I stop at!"

Bobby hurried back to the place where he had fought the group of Comanches and started looking for another trail that he could follow. He found one that looked promising to Storm Who Walks; the horse had a hoof with an odd chip knocked out of it, so it would be easy to identify among other prints. Bobby was not able to follow this trail as easily as he had the previous one, so he moved along at a fast walk. He felt a kind of tingling in his head that told him when he started to wander away from the proper trail, so he did have an advantage when it came to following the Indian.

He didn't stop for anything beyond the necessary pause to relieve his waste disposal system; he ate jerky as he rode. It finally got too dark to follow safely—it would have been too easy to ambush him, so he made camp and took care of the animals. Storm Who Walks taught him how to cook a mixture of corn meal and pemmican into a sort of cornbread that he found to be quite tasty. That and water was his supper.

Bobby was up before daylight, getting ready to continue his pursuit of the Comanche. He was away as soon as there was enough light for him to see the trail. Actually, any other tracker would have had to wait at least another half hour for enough light, but Bobby's improved eyesight got him an early start. He found where the Indian had camped the previous night, and, before long, Bobby came to a place where the trail he was following was joined by another horse, and the two stayed together. Storm Who Walks was sure that this was the trail of another member of the band that Bobby was hunting, so the Comanches had just saved him some trouble.

Bobby was able to pick up speed since the trail was now easier to follow. He stayed behind the two Indians for the rest of the day. Storm Who Walks said there was a good chance that these two Indians would lead them to the others if Bobby would give them an opportunity to do so. In fact, Storm Who Walks suggested that Bobby stop long enough to prepare some hand grenades. Bobby asked, "What is a hand grenade?"

"I'll give you all of the details when we stop for the night. But it is a small explosive bomb which can be thrown where it will explode among your enemies. It can be very effective when used correctly."

They kept on the trail until they came to a good place to stop. Bobby took care of the animals and then set out to make two hand grenades. He did not have enough gunpowder to make more, but two should be sufficient for now. Bobby took a scrap of cloth and formed a pocket into which he poured enough gunpowder to equal about 10 pistol loads. He mixed this with some broken chips of quartz that he found. He wrapped the cloth around the mixture and tied it off. He did not have anything suitable for a fuse, but Storm Who Walks told him that would not be a problem right now. He could get all of the bang he needed by throwing the grenade into the campfire of the Indians.

Bobby ate supper and got a good night's sleep. He was sure that he would find the 5 remaining Indians on the morrow; however, he was surprised when Storm Who Walks had him up and away from camp at least an hour before dawn. Bobby had not been allowed a fire to fix breakfast, so his night vision was excellent. He could not see well enough to track, but Storm Who Walks guided him toward a clump of trees about a mile away.

Just before he reached the trees, Storm Who Walks had him dismount and ground hitch the animals. Bobby was instructed to bring his rifle and the two grenades that he had made. He sneaked among the trees and through them he could see a camp made by 5 Comanches. Four were sleeping and one was keeping a half-hearted watch. The guard was sitting near, but not looking into, a small campfire. Storm Who Walks told Bobby to leave his rifle where he was; he could come back for it when he needed it. Meanwhile, he was to take the two grenades that he had made and sneak as close as he could to the fire without being seen.

Once in place, Bobby should toss both grenades into the fire. He must concentrate on what he was doing and will both grenades to land side-by-side among the embers. Bobby thought that this was crazy, but everything that had happened to him lately had been crazy, so he was willing to try. Bobby strained his mind very hard and ordered the grenades to land in the fire. What's this? The grenades seem to jump out of his hand and fly to the fire where they sat for a moment. The Comanche guard had not even noticed them. Suddenly, there was a big BANG and both grenades went off at the same time.

The guard was killed instantly, both by the force of the explosion and by being hit in the head by a sharp piece of quartz. Three of the four sleeping Indians were also severely injured by the explosion and the flying rocks. The last Indian rolled to his feet and held his knife ready to fight, but Bobby did not bother to be gentlemanly about it. He drew his pistol and shot the Comanche in the chest at about a 15-foot range. He then shot each of the 3 wounded Comanches and killed them. Bobby's vengeance was complete on this band of Comanches!

There wasn't much to loot from these Comanches beyond their horses, but 5 horses were worth selling. Bobby recovered his rifle and headed for the nearest town. He wanted to sell the horses and replace the gunpowder he had used for the hand grenades. Storm Who Walks also wanted him to purchase some fuse for when they needed to make more hand grenades.

Bobby sold the 5 horses for $60 in gold, so he was flush with money. He ate lunch at a restaurant before going shopping at the general store. Bobby bought the powder to replace what he had used and asked for some fuse. The clerk said, "I just got sumpthin' in that might interest ya. It's a new blasting material to replace gunpowder. It's called dynamite, an' it's a real whizzer. I got the caps fer it an' everythin'. Also, it's a hell of a lot easier ta use an' is a lot more reliable. It comes in easy-ta-use sticks an' don't cost that much more than black powder." Bobby thought about it for a while and discussed it with Storm Who Walks; he bought 6 sticks, which he figured was a lifetime supply. He also bought the caps and fuse to go with it. While he was there, Bobby also bought as much canned food as he thought his mule could handle.

Storm Who Walks had already complimented Bobby on his use of his mental abilities, but insisted that Bobby needed a lot more practice before he could take full advantage of them. Therefore, they headed away from town to find a comfortable place where Bobby could practice. The way Storm Who Walks talked, Bobby figured that he would find a lot of uses for his mental abilities once he had full command of them.

They found a large grove of trees well away from any normal travel routes, so they were not likely to be disturbed. Bobby started off by moving rocks around by his mental power, alone. At first, he could only move small pebbles a short distance, and the effort exhausted him quickly—he was actually rendered unconscious a couple of times as he tried to push his talent. At the end of 2 weeks, though, he was able to move up to 300 pound boulders hundreds of yards without feeling any strain. Except for the maximum limit on the size of what he could move, there did not appear to be any relationship between the size of an item and how far he could move it. Storm Who Walks insisted that the 300-pound limit was only a temporary thing, and Bobby would soon be able to handle even more; all he needed was practice.