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close about her.  Aren t you cold? If we sat close together it would be
warmer, and we could share the blanket. He hesitated, then sat down beside
her and pulled the blanket across his shoulders. He was desperately tired but
feared to fall asleep. Ducrow might leave Juliana and double back to kill him.
He had unsaddled and ground-hitched the horses but had no worry about them
drifting off. This was one of the few patches of grass anywhere around.
Yet he did sleep. When the sky was faintly gray he awakened suddenly,
listened, looked at the horses who were cropping grass contentedly, and then
eased from under the blanket.
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He caught the horses, smoothed the hair on their backs with his hand, and
saddled up. From time to time he glanced at Dru, who was sleeping peacefully
He was amazed that he should be here, in this lonely place, with this
beautiful girl. He, an orphan and foster son of an outlaw. Some movement of
his must have awakened her, for her breath caught and then her eyes opened.
She looked up at him with a sleepy smile.  I was tiredl She sat up and
watched as he kindled a small fire in the shadow of a boulder. Using very dry
wood that would offer almost no smoke, he got his small coffeepot from the
pack and started coffee. Digging into his pack he found some hard biscuits and
beef jerky.  Better eat what you can, he said.  We won t be stopping again.
She drew on her boots and stood up, shaking out her hair. Squatting by the
fire he studied the terrain that lay before them, trying to recover from his
memory all he had been told about it, Ducrow would have no trail to find and
would have moved swiftly.
By now he would probably have reached his goal or was nearing it. When they
were in the saddle again they picked up the tracks of the three horses they
were following.
It was easier because the packhorse Ducrow was leading was a horse Mike
remembered, and the tracks were familiar. What sign there was he could follow
from the saddle, and they gained distance, moving swiftly. Dawn broke and the
sky was streaked with rose and gold. The warming sun began to ease some of the
stiffness from their muscles.
The trail crossed a small valley, skirted an alkali lake and dipped into a
maze of boulders and rocky outcrop- pings before entering a pine forest.
Nowhere did he see any signs of a camp. Juliana, who lacked the strength and
fire of Drusilla, must be almost dead from fatigue. Obviously, the outlaw knew
exactly where he was going and that his destination was not far off. He was
making no effort to save his horses.
The trail became more difficult to follow.
Mike slowed his pace, then suddenly stopped.
The tracks had vanished as if the three horses had stepped off a clifll 
Stay in the saddle.
I ve got to look around a bit. Mike studied the ground, then walked back to
the last tracks he had seen, which he had taken care not to cross in the event
he needed to examine them again.
He knew the stride of each horse now, and he measured the distance with his
eye, knowing where each hoof must fall.
Nothing . . .
He paused, studying the ground, then the pine timber that surrounded the
spot. It seemed absolutely uniform and as he would expect it to be.
Avoiding the trail ahead he went into the woods and walked a slow circle
around his own horses, studying the ground, the trunks of the trees,
everything.
He found no tracks.
He stopped, hands on his hips, scowling in concentration. They were gone, and
seemed to have left no trail.
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Dru was watching him, worried now. She started to speak but he lifted a hand.
 Waitl I want to think. He studied, inch by inch, the trail ahead and the
trail on his right. Nothing offered a clue. The three horses and the two
riders had vanished as if they had ridden off into space.
On the left the pine woods were thick, so dense as to offer no means of
passing through. He had studied the trees and brush, and even if a horseman
turned that way there was no place to go.
As the trail ahead was trackless it had to be on the right. Again he walked
into the woods, and found no tracks. It was impossible, yet it had happened.
 Could they have backtracked? Dru asked.
 There were no tracks except those going ahead.
I believe-was He stopped, swore softly.
 I m a fool! Lend me your hat. Puzzled, she removed her hat and handed it to
him.
Using the hat as a fan he began to wave it over the pine needles, letting the
wind he created move the needles. He worked for several minutes, then suddenly
stopped.  Got it! He pointed.  There they are! Dru stepped her horse closer. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]