The wagon train hunter had ridden horseback for several miles before dismounting. Observing the buffalo in a plain beside a shallow, meandering river, he approached on foot, concealed by a low escarpment. He shot a cow.
Returning to the small wagon train with a haunch of the cow, he consulted with the scout, and the two of them rode off with several mules. By nightfall they had returned with most of the meat. The grateful pioneers ate hungrily by several fires.
In the dark, coyotes yipped and a wolf howled. The stars stood out against a black sky.
In the morning the train moved on, the scout and the hunter some distance ahead. High mountains could be seen on the near horizon.
“No snow up there yet,” The scout observed.
“Nah, but it’s coming.” The hunter leaned lankily upon his horse.
The scout paused, then said, “We’ll take them through.”
Copyright 2013 George Lowell Tollefson