Read Online High Valley Manhunt: Laramie Davies #1 by B. S. Dunn - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: B. S. Dunn
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shrugged Harbin.
“Is
what he said true?” questioned the Sheriff.
“And
what if it is?” the outlaw challenged.
“It
damn well explains a lot.”
Before
more could be said, Lone Wolf returned, “I found their trail
leadin' away from here.”
“Which
way are they headin'?” the Sheriff asked.
Lone
Wolf pointed up the valley, “There is more. This mornin',
Indians were here. Five of them.”
“Who
cares about them,” Harbin brushed the cautionary warning away,
“it's them others we are after. How far ahead are they?”
“Maybe
three hours.”
“Let's
get going then,” said the Judge as he fought to get his horse
turned, “damned animal of Grover's is as stubborn as that old
goat was.”
“Okay
then,” said Jeb Coltrain, “you lead out Indian.”
The
group swung their horses away from Lonesome's cabin and followed Lone
Wolf as he lead them away from the solitary figure that lay face down
on the ground.
Chapter 8
Laramie
called a halt around noon so they could water their horses at a rocky
stream which cut a path through a small meadow. The water was clear
and cool, and while the horses drank their fill, the gunfighter
topped up the canteens.
“Look,
over there,” said Sally, as she pointed to something in the
meadow.
Laramie
looked and saw a large bull elk, that had just stepped out of a stand
of spruce, his antler rack magnificent. He stood quietly for a moment
then stretched out his neck and emitted a high pitched, bugling call.
Sally
was awe struck, “What a wonderful animal.”
Laramie
agreed, “He's just lettin' us know we're in his territory.”
Sally
watched as the Elk remained still for a while longer before he turned
and disappeared into the trees.
“Laramie,
come and have a look at this,” Slate called from where he
watered his horse a little farther upstream.
He
left Bo to drink and walked across to Slate, “What is it?”
Slate
pointed to a patch of damp dirt beside the stream, “Look
there.”
In the
middle of a bare spot was a solitary, unshod hoof print. The sight of
it caused a chill to run up Laramie's back. He lifted his eyes and
scanned his surroundings, then he looked back at the source of his
worry, “couldn't be more than a couple of hours old.”
“That's
what I was thinkin'” Slate agreed.
Laramie
looked about some more, “I'll be happier when we can get out of
the open. The trail cuts through the trees up ahead. I'll feel better
then, let's go.”
They
mounted up and said nothing of their discovery to Sally.
Once
the path entered the trees, Laramie breathed a sigh of relief. He'd
watched their back trail but could detect no one following, but that
only meant that nobody was visible. The trail weaved its way through
tall pine trees, their aromatic scent hung heavily in the air. The
gunfighter let the big appaloosa pick his way along an undulating
path that dropped into a gully. He crossed another of the many
streams and climbed the slope on the other side.
The
trail started to rise steadily and over the course of a few hours,
the ground became rockier, and large, grey outcrops became more
frequent. The forest thinned out substantially once the path topped
the ridge line and continued along its spine.
Laramie
eased Bo to a halt, “We'll rest here for the moment.”
Where
they sat, the riders had a clear view into the next valley. It was
not much different from the one they had just ridden out of, except
there were more trees and no lake. A river meandered across the
valley floor, and bisected the wilderness in its path.
Sally
pulled her horse up beside Laramie's, “This country just keeps
going. It's magnificent.”
“Do
you see where the river bends around that rock formation, on the
other side of those trees?”
Sally
looked to where he pointed, “Yes, I think so.”
“We'll
camp there tonight and we should reach Mountain Pass late tomorrow
afternoon.”
Sally
nodded, “I will be happy to get back.”
Laramie
poked the small fire
“Is
what he said true?” questioned the Sheriff.
“And
what if it is?” the outlaw challenged.
“It
damn well explains a lot.”
Before
more could be said, Lone Wolf returned, “I found their trail
leadin' away from here.”
“Which
way are they headin'?” the Sheriff asked.
Lone
Wolf pointed up the valley, “There is more. This mornin',
Indians were here. Five of them.”
“Who
cares about them,” Harbin brushed the cautionary warning away,
“it's them others we are after. How far ahead are they?”
“Maybe
three hours.”
“Let's
get going then,” said the Judge as he fought to get his horse
turned, “damned animal of Grover's is as stubborn as that old
goat was.”
“Okay
then,” said Jeb Coltrain, “you lead out Indian.”
The
group swung their horses away from Lonesome's cabin and followed Lone
Wolf as he lead them away from the solitary figure that lay face down
on the ground.
Chapter 8
Laramie
called a halt around noon so they could water their horses at a rocky
stream which cut a path through a small meadow. The water was clear
and cool, and while the horses drank their fill, the gunfighter
topped up the canteens.
“Look,
over there,” said Sally, as she pointed to something in the
meadow.
Laramie
looked and saw a large bull elk, that had just stepped out of a stand
of spruce, his antler rack magnificent. He stood quietly for a moment
then stretched out his neck and emitted a high pitched, bugling call.
Sally
was awe struck, “What a wonderful animal.”
Laramie
agreed, “He's just lettin' us know we're in his territory.”
Sally
watched as the Elk remained still for a while longer before he turned
and disappeared into the trees.
“Laramie,
come and have a look at this,” Slate called from where he
watered his horse a little farther upstream.
He
left Bo to drink and walked across to Slate, “What is it?”
Slate
pointed to a patch of damp dirt beside the stream, “Look
there.”
In the
middle of a bare spot was a solitary, unshod hoof print. The sight of
it caused a chill to run up Laramie's back. He lifted his eyes and
scanned his surroundings, then he looked back at the source of his
worry, “couldn't be more than a couple of hours old.”
“That's
what I was thinkin'” Slate agreed.
Laramie
looked about some more, “I'll be happier when we can get out of
the open. The trail cuts through the trees up ahead. I'll feel better
then, let's go.”
They
mounted up and said nothing of their discovery to Sally.
Once
the path entered the trees, Laramie breathed a sigh of relief. He'd
watched their back trail but could detect no one following, but that
only meant that nobody was visible. The trail weaved its way through
tall pine trees, their aromatic scent hung heavily in the air. The
gunfighter let the big appaloosa pick his way along an undulating
path that dropped into a gully. He crossed another of the many
streams and climbed the slope on the other side.
The
trail started to rise steadily and over the course of a few hours,
the ground became rockier, and large, grey outcrops became more
frequent. The forest thinned out substantially once the path topped
the ridge line and continued along its spine.
Laramie
eased Bo to a halt, “We'll rest here for the moment.”
Where
they sat, the riders had a clear view into the next valley. It was
not much different from the one they had just ridden out of, except
there were more trees and no lake. A river meandered across the
valley floor, and bisected the wilderness in its path.
Sally
pulled her horse up beside Laramie's, “This country just keeps
going. It's magnificent.”
“Do
you see where the river bends around that rock formation, on the
other side of those trees?”
Sally
looked to where he pointed, “Yes, I think so.”
“We'll
camp there tonight and we should reach Mountain Pass late tomorrow
afternoon.”
Sally
nodded, “I will be happy to get back.”
Laramie
poked the small fire
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