Far away the grey mare was neighing plaintively and the scared cowpony trailed in the distance wondering why these free creatures should come so close to man, the enslaver; but to Alcatraz the herd was no more than a growth of trees; nothing existed under the sky saving that hand ceaselessly outstretched towards him, and the steady murmur of the voice.

He began to wonder:  what would happen if he waited until the finger tips were within a hair’s-breadth of his nose?  Surely there would be no danger, for even if the Great Enemy slid onto his back again he could not stay, weak as Red Perris now was.

Alcatraz winced, but without moving his feet; and when he straightened the finger tips touched the velvet of his nose.  He stamped and snorted to frighten the hunter away but the hand moved dauntlessly high and higher—­it rested between his eyes—­it passed across his head, always with that faint tingle of pleasure trailing behind the touch; and the voice was saying in broken tones:  “Some damn fools say they ain’t a God!  Some damn fools!  Something for nothing.  That’s what He gives!  Steady, boy:  steady!”

Between perfect fear and perfect pleasure, the stallion shuddered.  Now the Great Enemy was beside him with a hand slipping down his neck.  Why did he not swerve and race away?  What power chained him to the place?  He jerked his head about and caught the shoulder of Perris in his teeth.  He could crush through muscles and sinews and smash the bone.  But the teeth of Alcatraz did not close for the hunter made no sign of fear or pain.

“You’re considerable of an idiot, Alcatraz, but you don’t know no better,” the voice was saying.  “That’s right, let go that hold.  In the old days I’d of had my rope on you quicker’n a wink.  But what good in that?  The hoss I love ain’t a down-headed, mean-hearted man-killer like you used to be; it’s the Alcatraz that I’ve seen running free here in the Valley of the Eagles.  And if you come with me, you come free and you stay free.  I don’t want to set no brand on you.  If you stay it’s because you like me, boy; and when you want to leave the corral gate will be sure open.  Are you coming along?”

The fingers of that gentle hand had tangled in the mane of Alcatraz, drawing him softly forward.  He braced his feet, snorting, his ears back.  Instantly the pressure on his mane ceased.  Alcatraz stepped forward.

“By God,” breathed the man.  “It’s true!  Alcatraz, old hoss, d’you think I’d ever of tried to make a slave out of you if I’d guessed that I could make you a partner?”

Behind them, the rattle of volleying hoofs was sweeping closer.  The rain had ceased.  The air was a perfect calm, and the very grunt of the racing horses was faintly audible and the cursing of the men as they urged their mounts forward.  Towards that approaching fear, Alcatraz turned his head.  They came as though they would run him into the river.  But what did it all mean?  So long as one man stood beside him, he was shielded from the enmity of all other men.  That had been true even in the regime of the dastardly Cordova.