Ride the Dark Trail by Philip McCormac

Author:Philip McCormac
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wordwooze Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 26

As evening drew in, Jacob was forced to look for a campsite. Now that he had some positive news about Hettie, he was anxious to keep going. However, with darkness closing in, he was worried he would lose his bearings and go off-track. He located a wadi he guessed was a dried up river bed and decided to stop there before it became too dark to make a decent camp. Soon he had a fire going, and put on a pot for coffee. In a skillet he placed bacon chunks and beans. While he cooked supper, he thought about what might lie ahead.

It seemed a daunting task – one lone horse wrangler against a gang of hardened outlaws. Curee had been vague about the numbers – twenty-five or thirty.

Jacob looked up at the star-bright sky. Somewhere out there trapped amongst dangerous men was the girl he had lost his heart to. Jacob recalled the various interactions he’d had with Hettie. He could not bring to mind a single incident when she had ever reciprocated in any way his deep regard for her. Squatting before his campfire, he came to the gloomy conclusion that Hettie had always showed out-and-out indifference to his advances. With this realization came profound regret. He sighed deeply.

“Hettie,” he said aloud, “I know you don’t think much to me. I ain’t rich nor good-looking. Just a lowly ranch hand as works with horses. But that don’t make no difference. I’m gonna do my best to get you back to your ma or die in the attempt.”

With that resolve, he ate his supper, rolled up in his bedroll, and drifted off to sleep. It was a fitful slumber with dreams of bloodied men coming at him with holes in their chests where they had been shot. In the night he arose and refreshed the fire in an attempt to banish the ghosts haunting his dreams.

Reluctant to lie down again, he sat before the fire and tried not to think of the man he had shot back at the ranch. Not wanting to go back to his bedroll and the unwelcome dreams, he set the coffee pot to boil.

Some distance from where Jacob had camped, a band of Cheyenne saw the campfire and debated whether it was worth investigating. The warriors were returning from a raiding expedition. The plunder had been meagre, and for this reason they were despondent.

They had attacked a wagon train and managed to run off a bunch of horses before retreating in the face of an intense barrage of fire from the travellers. Two of their warriors were wounded in the fight. It was little return for the time and energy spent riding for many days and camping out. Now they were running out of food and had to return to the tribe almost empty-handed excepting for the stolen horses.

“If it is white-eyes, they will have food and guns,” said Black Wolf, a tall, sturdy warrior with long, black hair.

Four Bears, a gaunt looking

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