The Widow and The Squaw
We rode into the McAlester ranch south of Black Mountain too late to prevent the carnage. The Comanches were gone and the coyotes and buzzards had started feasting on the bodies of the twenty-one men and boys they'd killed. We let our horses rest and graze in McAlester's grass while we buried what was left of them in shallow graves and piled the rocks high over them. The Captain opened his Bible and said a few words. That was the Comanche way. Kill the men. Take the women and horses and guns...