Lone Wolf Canyon by S.C. Sherman

Author:S.C. Sherman [Sherman, S. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Post Hill Press
Published: 2017-10-30T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

Sundance was nuzzling his leg when he sat up. Ham could tell by the stars that sunrise was imminent. Birds had already begun their day as the forest was alive with their music.

“How’d you get loose? You looking for your sugar cube?” Ham rubbed his eyes and rolled to his feet. He handed the white cube to Sundance in an open palm.

“Dude, you’re an addict,” he laughed as he patted his neck and popped a cube into his own mouth. The day rose fresh and sparkling after the storm. Water dripped from the leaves as Ham glanced at the map and mounted Sundance. The saddle felt good.

At the end of the second canyon, a thin game trail led through another steeply descending crevice to open to yet another canyon. On the map, Ham noticed a series of four canyons before the elevations opened to a wide valley that extended for miles with a range of peaks along the west edge. The series of canyons turned a little east by southeast and essentially wrapped around the property that was marked on the map as Lone Wolf Canyon.

Clyde had drawn the locations of several cabins in with black pen. A few miles of rough country separated him from Lone Wolf Canyon. He planned to leave them well enough alone. “Live and let live, right Sundance?” Ham said as he tucked the map back into his coat pocket. Sundance only offered a flick of the ear in response. By midday he’d entered the fourth canyon.

Each canyon was similar, yet somehow unique. A group of half a dozen muleys stepped into the clearing and began grazing. They were oblivious to Ham sitting his seat in the tree line. Heads down they grazed on the lush grass along the small creek zigzagging its way to the south end of the canyon. Ham noticed one buck, several mature does, and a smaller doe, probably a yearling.

He slid his rifle from its scabbard. He settled it to his shoulder and exhaled as he centered the open sights on the shoulder of the yearling. His trigger finger slowly tightened.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Sundance startled as a serious of shots rang out from just down the valley.The mule deer bolted into the trees and Ham focused his attention as more shots rang out in quick succession.

“Semi…big caliber…” he whispered as he dismounted.

Ham tied Sundance securely, checked his pistol to be sure all was as it should be. Locked and loaded. He replaced it in its holster and eased into the woods with the rifle in his hands. Like a ghost, he moved toward the sounds. He could hear an engine running and voices. The shooting had stopped.

He found a spot under a pine tree with a view of the end of the valley. He could see two men standing near a four-wheeler. He put his binoculars to his eyes and could see what they were doing.

“Son-of-a-bitch,” he swore bitterly.

One man was on his knees working over an animal they had downed.

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