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But he was sure that withdrawal now would only postpone trouble. Sooner or later the Apaches would have to stand against the Reds, and if they could do it now while the enemy was occupied with trouble from the Tatars, so much the better. Jil-Lee was following Nolan. But something in Travis rebelled. He watched the circling helicopter.
Travis knew that Kaydessa would be guided without her knowledge by the "accidental" appearance now and then of some pursuer just enough to push her along. "Then, too, she is now armed," Jil-Lee added. "How?" demanded Travis. "Look to your own belt, younger brother. Where is your knife?" Startled, Travis glanced down.
The shaman sputtered in his own language, and then, visibly regaining command of himself, spoke English once more. "Those are hunters, and they carry a caller. Either some others have escaped or they are determined to find our mountain camp." Jil-Lee looked at Travis. "You did not feel anything when the woman was under that spell?" Travis shook his head.
And the next day when he did move on he had only the report that Kaydessa had sheltered beside a pool for the night and was doggedly moving back across the mountains. Three days later Travis, Jil-Lee, and Buck came into the tower valley. Kaydessa was in the northern foothills, twice turned back from the west and the freedom of the outlaws by the Apache scouts.
"Listen," Jil-Lee, his side padded with bandages, stepped closer "and tell me, younger brother, what is it that you seek in these towers?" "On another world there were secrets of the old ones to be found in such ancient buildings. Here that might also be true." "And among the secrets of those old ones," Nolan's voice was still harsh "were those which brought us to this world, is that not so?"
Jil-Lee nodded and then said to the shaman: "We shall stay here and watch. But since it is bad for you do you go. And we shall meet you near this place of the towers. Agreed?" For a moment Menlik's face held a shadowy expression Travis tried to read. Was it resentment resentment that he was forced to retreat when the others could stand their ground?
For Travis was content to scout with only the coyotes for company, and he did not find the loneliness of the unknown planet as intimidating as most of the others. He was checking his small trail pack on the fourth day after they had settled on the plateau when Buck and Jil-Lee hunkered down beside him. "You go to hunt ?" Buck broke the silence first. "Not for meat." "What do you fear?
Jil-Lee suggested. Menlik spoke over his shoulder to his own party. There was a babble of answer, two or three of the men raising their voices above those of their companions. "If set in the right direction, yes," the shaman conceded. "When do you plan to move, Apaches?" "At once!" But they did not have wings, and the cross-country march they had to make was a rough journey on foot.
Jil-Lee moved to the table. "What do we do?" "This " Travis came from behind the table, walked to the wall. He put out both hands, flattened his palms against the green-blue-purple surface and slid them slowly along. Under his touch, the material of the wall was cool and hard, unlike the live feel the pillar had. Cool until One palm, held at arm's length had found the right spot.
Now " he looked from his own people to the Mongols, "why are you here with these?" "We wait, but the waiting is over," Jil-Lee said. "Now we go north!" They lay along the rim of a vast basin, a scooping out of earth so wide they could not sight its other side. The bed of an ancient lake, Travis speculated, or perhaps even the arm of a long-dried sea.
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