the Californios (1974) by L'amour Louis

Author:L'amour, Louis [L'amour, Louis]
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2010-12-12T06:26:28.281000+00:00

"Si, Senora. It has been years, but--"

"Lead us then. Somewhere we should be able to cut over to the Cherry Creek trail to Old Man Canyon. We will go home now. Lose them if you can."

Sean rode swiftly up, glancing suddenly at the empty saddle of the lead horse.

"Juan?"

"He is dead. He died back there after he showed me the gold."

"I am sorry. He was a fine old man, a fine man. I could have learned much from him."

"He told me he had taught you what was most important. He said it would not seem like much, but it was, and you would see."

"Let's go. We've killed nobody yet and I'd prefer not to."

"Sean? There isn't enough. There is scarcely half enough."

He shot her a quick glance, then nodded. "I was afraid. I suspected."

"We must think of something, Sean. We must think quickly, you and me."

"Did you see where the gold came from? Any old workings?"

"No. It was a strange, empty place. The gold was in a pot on a shelf, most of the other pots were empty. The Old One wanted to rest and he lay down in the cave. He must have died almost at once but I did not know it for several hours."

They rode on, turning sharply south for about a mile, then west again with Reyes Peak bulking large on their left and ahead.

"Sean, there's something strange about that place. I was almost sick up there, dizzy. Once I thought I saw an Indian of some kind, but he just faded out."

"'Of some kind? What kind?"

"He was ... different, I guess. I just caught a glimpse, but it was my imagination, anyway."

Sean glanced back. Could he see dust in the air? Or was that, too, imagination?

Nothing his mother had said surprised him ... why? He turned the thought in his mind, puzzled by it.

He prided himself on being a straightforward, hard-headed man of the sea ... of the sea? Did that make a difference? For the men who sail upon the deep water see too much of the unbelievable and mysterious, they travel to faraway lands where customs, religions, and thoughts are all keyed to a different tempo, and somewhere along the line become less resistant to the amazing, the unusual, and the seemingly unreasonable.

Or was it simply the Irish in him? That Celtic background of Druids and leprechauns? Of chieftains, saints, and pagan gods?

The top of Reyes Peak was lit by the fire of sunset, and a soft wind from the sea moved through the pines. Suddenly they emerged from the trees riding along the ridge of Pine Mountain toward the west.

Eileen Mulkerin stood in her stirrups, her hair blowing in the wind, and looked back the way they had come. "I hope they can ride!" she commented grimly. "Before they see their homes again they'll have been around!"

Montero slowed his pace. Along the skyline they went, Montero leading, followed by Mariana and the pack animals, then Eileen Mulkerin and Sean.

She glanced at him.

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