Slocum at Devil's Mouth by Jake Logan

Author:Jake Logan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group

11

Slocum tugged at the collar of his duster when the wind kicked up, again bitingly cold as the sun dipped below the horizon. He tried to keep a steady course back to Goldust but got lost twice, the snowy hills looking too similar for him to distinguish in the twilight. By the time the sun set and darkness almost as intense as that within the caves descended on him, he was frustrated and ready to keep riding, no matter the direction, until he came to somewhere else.

Anywhere else.

Only his duty to report Mikhail’s death kept him from doing just that. Anastasia needed to know that her servant had died. What Slocum would tell her as to why Mikhail had been murdered swirled around in his head like the wind-driven motes of snow in front of his eyes. Elizabeth Bartlett had killed Mikhail. The reason was as clear as his path through the stormy night.

When the snowflakes began working their way under his duster and chilling him to the bone, Slocum knew he had to find a place to camp for the night. Not being too sure where he was made it harder to hunt for a line shack or abandoned mining cabin. He tried to figure out what direction he rode by waiting for clouds to part and give a clear view of the sky. Only a few seconds of staring upward told him he wasn’t going to see the sky anytime soon. He had been lucky when he had emerged from the underground warren of caves to see blue, but he had wandered about lost longer than he had thought.

Right now he wished he could find one of those devil’s mouths spewing forth a breath warmer than the freezing nighttime Dakota air. It had saved him once and might again. But where would he stumble across one? The snow grew thicker around him, forcing him to admit he had to make camp here and now or be so turned around he might never get back to Goldust.

He almost rode into a sheer rocky cliff rising from the land. Guiding his weary horse along the face, he found a crevice that widened quickly into a small box canyon. Without hesitation, Slocum led his horse through and into this protected area. The Black Hills were filled with surprises. This one happened to be one good enough to save his life.

Finding a spot to camp along a wall, Slocum scrounged dried wood and built a large fire for him and his horse. The animal had little enough to graze on unless it broke through the crusty ice covering the ground, but Slocum had brought enough trail rations for a hearty meal. He even opened a can of peaches in way of celebration. He had escaped the caves.

Slocum left his horse saddled. The saddle and blanket would provide a small measure of protection against the cold. He pulled his bedroll up around his shoulders and lay down by the fire, watching orange and yellow flames leap and cavort about hypnotically.

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