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buffalo meat, and Tom caught a half dozen fish in the space of twenty minutes.
If the stream had ever been fished, it must have been a long, long time ago.
The water was clear, cold, and pure.
"I don't know what streams are in this area,"McKaskel said. "I've no idea
what this is. We should be west of Sand Creek, and we thought that was it we
crossed some days back ... it was running mighty shallow."
"It's water. Let us be thankful." They gathered wood and stowed it in the
tarp. They emptied both barrels of the remains of the water they had carried
and refilled them with fresh water.
That evening, just before sundown, DuncanMcKaskel killed another deer.
"I'll never forget this place,Duncan . It has brought us so much, water,
wood, and fresh meat."
"Where's Tom?"
"Down by the creek. He was making a sailboat out of an old tin can and some
sticks."
They sat still together, watching the slow finger of their smoke, lifting
toward the sky. "This would be a good place, Susanna,"McKaskel said, glancing
around. "It has all we need. I think that flat-land up there would grow
wheat."
"I want the mountains,Duncan . You promised me mountains."
He chuckled. "And you shall have them! We will start at daybreak."
Later that day they saw more wild horses and when they started in the morning
the air was clear.Duncan pointed with his whip. "Susanna? Tom!The mountains!"
They were there, low on the horizon and faintly purple with distance.
He stared at them, thinking back. He had been, and was still, a greenhorn ...
a tenderfoot. There had been so much they did not know, and even the
difficulties they had imagined were so much worse than expected. He had not
expected the trouble when the shooting occurred,nor the vindictiveness of the
men from that shabby little settlement. Were they still following?
It was scarcely likely. They had seen nobody now for days, and the heavy
rains must have washed out their tracks when first they moved away. Their
wagon now was lighter by a good bit and did not leave the deeply cut tracks
they would be hunting. He felt better, much better.
The mules moved out at a good gait, and Tom was singing in the back of the
wagon. It was good to be alive. Beside him Susanna sat tall, looking toward
the mountains.
DocShabbitt lit his cigar. "SantyFee," he said, "there'll be goodpickins
atSanty Fee."
"What about the gold strike at Cherry Creek?"Hyle demanded. "Folks say they
struck it rich!"
Page 47
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"I'll goanywheres ," Booster McCutcheon said. "If'nwe can't make out one way,
we'll do it another."
"They got gold," Ike Mantle insisted. "I know they had gold in that wagon!"
"Beats me," Doc said, "what could have become ofthem. And that other gent,
Huron, the one you had the fight with. What's become of him?"
"Well, we lost that wagon," Dobbs said, "looks like Red missed out on his
woman."
"We haven't lost them," Purdy said, "but I say we're foolish to chase after a
wagon-load of women'sfixins and cabin furniture."
"What d' you mean ... we haven't lost 'em?" Doc asked.
Purdy held up a tin boat made out of the top of a tin can, carefully bent
into shape with a small stick for a thwart and another for a mast. "I found
this down at the crick.Ain'trusted even a mite. I'd say some youngster made
it, lost itplayin ' in the crick, an' she just floated down stream."
"Yeah," Doc studied it. "Surelyain't been in the water long. I'd say only a
few miles."
"If we was to angle for northwest," Dobbs suggested, "we'd surely cut their
sign."
RedHyle got to his feet and walked to his saddle. Without a word he began to
saddle up.
"Maybe Purdy's right," Booster said, "what if theyain't gotnothin '?"
"The mules will be worth it at Cherry Creek. Wherethere's mines there's a
market for mules."
Yet the trail was older than they believed. They found it, west of the creek
by some distance, and the Huron rode up and down, studying the lay of the
grass.
"Thisain't the same," Booster said, "look at the tracks. The wagon
we'relookin ' for made deep tracks. She really cut deep!"
"Same wagon," the Huron said mildly. "Not so heavy now."
"What's that mean?"Shabbitt demanded.
"They have lightened their load," Purdy Mantle said quietly, "so they could
travel faster."
"You mean they done buried the gold?" Ike said. "They wouldn't do a fool
thing like that! Not way the hell an' gone out here!"
"I don't know anything about gold. That's just something we conjured up in
our minds our own selves.I seen furniture all along the trail. They carry it a
ways, then their stocks gets played out and they drop it. There's never been
any gold."
"You say!" Ike sneered.
Page 48
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zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl aikidobyd.xlx.pl
buffalo meat, and Tom caught a half dozen fish in the space of twenty minutes.
If the stream had ever been fished, it must have been a long, long time ago.
The water was clear, cold, and pure.
"I don't know what streams are in this area,"McKaskel said. "I've no idea
what this is. We should be west of Sand Creek, and we thought that was it we
crossed some days back ... it was running mighty shallow."
"It's water. Let us be thankful." They gathered wood and stowed it in the
tarp. They emptied both barrels of the remains of the water they had carried
and refilled them with fresh water.
That evening, just before sundown, DuncanMcKaskel killed another deer.
"I'll never forget this place,Duncan . It has brought us so much, water,
wood, and fresh meat."
"Where's Tom?"
"Down by the creek. He was making a sailboat out of an old tin can and some
sticks."
They sat still together, watching the slow finger of their smoke, lifting
toward the sky. "This would be a good place, Susanna,"McKaskel said, glancing
around. "It has all we need. I think that flat-land up there would grow
wheat."
"I want the mountains,Duncan . You promised me mountains."
He chuckled. "And you shall have them! We will start at daybreak."
Later that day they saw more wild horses and when they started in the morning
the air was clear.Duncan pointed with his whip. "Susanna? Tom!The mountains!"
They were there, low on the horizon and faintly purple with distance.
He stared at them, thinking back. He had been, and was still, a greenhorn ...
a tenderfoot. There had been so much they did not know, and even the
difficulties they had imagined were so much worse than expected. He had not
expected the trouble when the shooting occurred,nor the vindictiveness of the
men from that shabby little settlement. Were they still following?
It was scarcely likely. They had seen nobody now for days, and the heavy
rains must have washed out their tracks when first they moved away. Their
wagon now was lighter by a good bit and did not leave the deeply cut tracks
they would be hunting. He felt better, much better.
The mules moved out at a good gait, and Tom was singing in the back of the
wagon. It was good to be alive. Beside him Susanna sat tall, looking toward
the mountains.
DocShabbitt lit his cigar. "SantyFee," he said, "there'll be goodpickins
atSanty Fee."
"What about the gold strike at Cherry Creek?"Hyle demanded. "Folks say they
struck it rich!"
Page 47
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"I'll goanywheres ," Booster McCutcheon said. "If'nwe can't make out one way,
we'll do it another."
"They got gold," Ike Mantle insisted. "I know they had gold in that wagon!"
"Beats me," Doc said, "what could have become ofthem. And that other gent,
Huron, the one you had the fight with. What's become of him?"
"Well, we lost that wagon," Dobbs said, "looks like Red missed out on his
woman."
"We haven't lost them," Purdy said, "but I say we're foolish to chase after a
wagon-load of women'sfixins and cabin furniture."
"What d' you mean ... we haven't lost 'em?" Doc asked.
Purdy held up a tin boat made out of the top of a tin can, carefully bent
into shape with a small stick for a thwart and another for a mast. "I found
this down at the crick.Ain'trusted even a mite. I'd say some youngster made
it, lost itplayin ' in the crick, an' she just floated down stream."
"Yeah," Doc studied it. "Surelyain't been in the water long. I'd say only a
few miles."
"If we was to angle for northwest," Dobbs suggested, "we'd surely cut their
sign."
RedHyle got to his feet and walked to his saddle. Without a word he began to
saddle up.
"Maybe Purdy's right," Booster said, "what if theyain't gotnothin '?"
"The mules will be worth it at Cherry Creek. Wherethere's mines there's a
market for mules."
Yet the trail was older than they believed. They found it, west of the creek
by some distance, and the Huron rode up and down, studying the lay of the
grass.
"Thisain't the same," Booster said, "look at the tracks. The wagon
we'relookin ' for made deep tracks. She really cut deep!"
"Same wagon," the Huron said mildly. "Not so heavy now."
"What's that mean?"Shabbitt demanded.
"They have lightened their load," Purdy Mantle said quietly, "so they could
travel faster."
"You mean they done buried the gold?" Ike said. "They wouldn't do a fool
thing like that! Not way the hell an' gone out here!"
"I don't know anything about gold. That's just something we conjured up in
our minds our own selves.I seen furniture all along the trail. They carry it a
ways, then their stocks gets played out and they drop it. There's never been
any gold."
"You say!" Ike sneered.
Page 48
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