Curse Of The Spanish Gold (The Mountain Men Book 2) by Grosz Terry

Curse Of The Spanish Gold (The Mountain Men Book 2) by Grosz Terry

Author:Grosz, Terry [Grosz, Terry]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Wolfpack Publishing
Published: 2016-03-02T05:00:00+00:00


Chapter Twenty-One

The Humboldt River and Trouble

After several more long days of hard, dusty travel with scant good water that didn’t taste of alkali, the wagon train finally arrived at the Humboldt River just west of present-day Elko, Nevada. For the next week the group traveled almost due west along the river, enjoying the abundance of water and fair grazing. Just off the river bottom were miles and miles of sagebrush, rabbit brush, rocks, deep dust pockets, more rocks, fleet jackrabbits, and little else. The large game animals had mostly disappeared except in small numbers along the river. The hunters took every opportunity when the game showed themselves to freshen up the wagon train’s fresh meat supplies.

One night Jacob signaled the wagons to circle in a large meadow. Martin, riding up from the tail end of the train, looked upon the deep green of the meadow with relief.

“Brother, we best hole up here for a day. The animals are finding it harder and harder to pull these wagons living off the rank grasses we have found to date,” he said.

“I agree,” said Jacob. “This here meadow has the best eats for our critters I’ve seen in the last ten days. I think we need to rest for a day and let the stock recover and let the folks repair their tack, grease the axle hubs, wash, and bake. According to the Halls, the route ahead has some pretty sparse pickings, so we better make the best of what this area has to offer.”

“Damn, I’ve seen some pretty poor land these last few days, and what still lies ahead, if it’s like what we just passed, isn’t worth owning,” said Martin.

Jacob nodded in agreement as he looked ahead as far as he could see and saw nothing but more sagebrush, rocks, dust devils, and shimmering heat waves.

Dusk found some of the weary travelers tending cooking fires while others returned from the river’s edge, where they had washed their clothing and taken baths. Standing discreetly around the women at the river’s edge stood six heavily armed men, watching the surrounding terrain for any sign of danger. When the women finished, the men washed in shifts, always leaving an armed guard alertly on the shore. They had seen enough fresh Indian sign throughout the day to make them wary. Later that evening Jacob and Martin held a council of war with the two old but still hardy mountain men. All four realized they were near a band of Indians on the move. They also realized that the sharp-eyed Indians had probably already seen the plumes of dust raised by the wagon train that was closely following them across the high desert.

“Tonight I want all our livestock except for the slow-moving oxen double-hobbled in case someone from that band gets a hankering for some good horseflesh,” Jacob said, sternly.

“Jerry, why don’t you and I take the first watch tonight and let my brother and Dave take the second one?” Martin suggested through a cold mouthful of yesterday’s biscuits.



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