High Hunt by David Eddings

Author:David Eddings [Eddings, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fantasy, Science Fiction, Fiction, General, Sports & Recreation, Outdoor Skills, Hunting
ISBN: 9780007395606
Google: OkW-B7_lr6wC
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2010-07-29T01:20:53+00:00

16

It took us the better part of an hour to cut out horses from the herd in the corral down by the big log bam. Miller and Clint leaned across the top rail, pointing out this horse, then that one, calling them by name and telling us their good points — almost like they were selling them. I picked a big gray they called Ned. He looked pretty good at first, but then I caught a glimpse of his other eye and wasn't so sure. We herded them up into the back of a big stock-truck along with some pack-horses and then began hauling saddles out to a battered pickup.

"Some of you men'll have to ride in the back of the pickup," Miller said, squinting into the tangle of saddles, straps, and ropes we'd piled in there. "Might be a bit uncomfortable, but it ain't too far."

"I'll take my car," Lou said shortly.

"Here we go again," Jack muttered to me disgustedly, yanking his red baseball cap down over his forehead.

"Road's pretty rough," Clint warned.

Miller shrugged, "Suit yourself," he said. "Couple of you can go with me in the pickup, then, and one of you with Clint in the stock-truck, and one other man in the car with this man here, all right?"

We all nodded and started pitching the sleeping bags and clothing sacks that Clint had hauled down here earlier into the back of the pickup.

"I'll go with McKlearey," Sloane told the rest of us, "and we can pile the guns in his back seat." Sloane was dunking ahead. He was probably the only one of us who could ride five miles with Lou without getting into a fight.

"Good idea," Miller said. "Guns could get banged around some in the pickup." He turned to Clint. "You lock up?" he asked.

"Right, Cap," Clint said, "and I got it all squared away with Matthews. His oldest boy's comin' by to feed the stock while we're gone."

"Good," Miller said. "Well, men, let's get goin'." He led the way over to the trucks. I hung back a little, letting Jack and Stan go ahead. They both got into the pickup with Miller, so I climbed up into the cab of the stock-truck with Clint. Sloane and McKlearey rode along with us, hanging onto the outside of the cab as far as the main yard where our cars were parked. Then we all got out, put our guns in the back seat of McKlearey's car, and climbed back in.

We drove on out of the yard and on down the long driveway, the pickup leading, then McKlearey's weary Chevy, and Clint and I bringing up the rear in the stock-truck. The colt ran along beside us again as we drove on down to the highway.

"Little fella sure likes to run, doesn't he?" I ventured to Clint.

"Young horse ain't got much damn sense," Clint growled. "Just like a damn kid. About all he wants to do is run and play. Older horse rests ever' chance he gets."

"Looks like he's going to be pretty fast," I said.

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