Eyes wild with shock, Johanna fought the hands that held her. She saw the trees swaying, dancing; the shadowy figures moving slowly in the glow of the raging fire. Twisting around, she saw tears glistening on the cheeks of the black man who held her in his great muscled arms.

"We can't help 'em, missy," he whispered. "We can't do nothin' but hide 'n' pray."

Johanna was no match for the old man's strength as he held her fiercely against him, his callused hand clamped over her mouth. Her father lay dead in the yard and her stepmother lay nearby, the flames from the burning cabin already licking at her body.

"I'd'a gone to hep yore daddy if'n not fer keepin' you still, missy," Eli whispered. "Yore daddy would'a wanted me to keep you still. Them is bad men, missy. They do terrible bad things to white gals."

Hysteria spread through Johanna's brain like a writhing serpent, wholly engulfing her, when her sister was dragged out of the darkness, stripped naked, and thrown on the ground.

"Yo' can't do nothin', missy. You can't hep her. Oh, Lordy! Be still--"

"Spead yore legs, puta! Don't ya die on me!"

Johanna heard the heavily accented voice, and watched in frozen terror the humping body of the man on the top of her sister, and saw the three blood-crazed men waiting their turn on the slight, thrashing body.

Jacy screamed as the man entered her, plunging, pushing, with knifelike jabs and jerks that shook her whole body. Johanna prayed her sister would sink into merciful unconsciousness, but each time she seemed to be drifting away, one of the black-clad renegades gave her a resounding slap in the face, bringing her back, making her aware of what they were doing to her.

There was nothing for Johanna and Eli to do but wait in the murky darkness for the renegades to leave and pray that Jacy would live through the torture that the grunting, slobbering animals were inflicting as they emptied themselves inside her. Johanna thought wildly of the snorting, wild hog that had run across her path that very morning. Think about anything, she commanded herself, think about anything to take away this horror.

It seemed a lifetime ago that Johanna had run down the path to Eli's shack with an invitation to come to the house. Her father loved to visit with the old black man. He had told the family tales of the great sailing ships and about such places as Australia and the South Sea islands. They had been returning, Eli carrying a basket of green chili peppers for her stepmother, when the first shot rang out. Instinctively he had grabbed Johanna by the arm, dragged her into a thicket, and covered her mouth to hold the screams inside her aching throat, saving her life.

Peering through the bushes, Johanna had watched in horror as the men stormed the house. She saw her sweet and gentle stepmother cut down as she ran to aid her sister. Johanna's ears rang with her stepmother's screams and her nose filled with smoke from the burning cabin. In that one horrible moment, life as she had known it was gone forever.

The frenzied barking of a dog caught the attention of the bandits. They gathered in a tight group and talked. Then three of them quickly mounted their horses. The fourth stood over Jacy's still body, pulling up his britches. He cursed the men as they started to move away, then picked up the limp body of the girl, flung her across the neck of his horse, and rode after them.

Johanna tried to break free of Eli's arms so that she could follow. After what seemed an eternity, she was released. She whirled on Eli, beating at him with her fists and screaming.

"How could you let them take her? How could you stand there and do nothing? Papa liked you... and you didn't do anything to save him, or Mama, or Jacy. They'll kill her, too--"

Alternately sobbing and screaming her anguish, Johanna began to run, stumble, fall, and pick herself up until she fell on her knees beside her father.

"Papa! Oh, Papa!"

"It's a good sign, missy. It's a good sign the little 'un is live or they'd not of took her." Eli's voice came from above her, but Johanna was vomiting now, and swaying as she fought to remain conscious.

It had not been a nightmare after all. It was reality and she would never, as long as she lived, forget a second of it.

The citizens of San Angelo were outraged by the murders of their schoolteacher and his wife and the abduction of his daughter. They formed a posse to hunt down the murderers, but the area was vast and almost impossible to cover fully. Three days later they returned with Jacy, mute, and teetering on the brink of insanity.