Caleb mounted up and soon found the trail that would lead from the Denver road up toward Devil’s Claw and the land beyond.
He’d been riding for hours, and the sun was high and hot on his back as he made his way along a narrow trail that resembled the path of a monstrous snake.He kept his eyes open for signs of riders coming through.There were occasional prints, but none had the distinctive gash on the right horseshoe.For the most part, the prints were of deer and elk as well as bear, cougar, and bobcat.These lands teemed with game.
As Caleb rode deeper into the mountains, fir-covered slopes rose on either side of him, with patches of loose, jagged rock and shale that protruded and hung menacingly over the trail.The path wound steadily upward, and a deep, trackless chasm of a valley dropped away on the left.In some places, one misstep by Pirate would send them both tumbling to certain death.
The gelding was as fine a mount as a man could want, though.He could go all day and was always attentive and agreeable to what Caleb wanted.Sure-footed as a mule, Pirate was also so quick and agile that cutting a rambunctious calf out of a herd was no chore.Between that horse and his dog Bear, the hard work of muscling cattle was damn near enjoyable.
Caleb found himself thinking again of Bear back at the ranch with Gabriel.Of the cabin.Of the cattle.Of a valley where he had work enough to fill his hands without hunting men through the mountains.
The trail dropped steeply down into a ravine and forded a creek that ran through a rock-studded meadow bordered by thick forests of fir.To his left, the running water fell away in a series of small waterfalls until it disappeared from view.He stopped to let Pirate drink and rest for a few minutes.
The buckskin suddenly raised his head, his attention focused on the meadow above them, not far from where the creek emerged from a grove of cottonwoods.From the line of trees, two bear cubs wandered out into the stretch of grass and rocks.Young grizzlies no more than a few months old, from the size of them.Their shaggy coats were dark brown, nearly black, and each of them had patches of white fur near the shoulders and neck.They were upwind and heading toward the creek, unaware of the human and equine intruders watching them.
They were damn cute to look at, tumbling and wrestling as they moved along, but nothing panicked a horse quicker than a bear.
Pirate had good reason to be spooked.The mother bear lumbered out of the woods, and when her big head swung around toward her cubs, she stopped and rose up slightly onto her two hind legs.The grizzly was upwind, about a hundred and fifty paces away.Far too close.
“Never mind me,” he whispered.
Her nose sniffed the air.She couldn’t pick up his scent, but Caleb could smell her just fine.It was difficult to tell how big she was under that shaggy brown coat, but he judged she had to run close to four hundred pounds.Even so, he knew she could cover ground in a hurry.
In an open field, Pirate could outrun the bear easily, once he got going.But if the trail ahead looked like what he’d been following, it would be twisting and uneven.The gelding wouldn’t have much of a chance to show his speed.
Caleb slowly slid his Winchester from its scabbard.He didn’t want to kill the mother if he didn’t have to.This was her place, and those two cubs were still too young to survive on their own.But if she decided to charge, there’d be no help for it.
There had been too much killing already.If the mountains allowed him one mercy today, he’d take it.
She was still undecided.The low growl reached him.He cocked the hammer and raised the rifle to his shoulder.He sighted along the barrel, aiming for her lower jaw.If she came hard across the meadow, he’d at least hit her in the chest or shoulder.That would slow her down.
Suddenly, her great head swung away from him.Caleb followed her gaze.A lone coyote stood in the shadow of the pines at the far edge of the meadow.His tongue was hanging as he stared at the cubs.
That threat was the more imminent, and she bolted, moving with astonishing speed toward her offspring.Her feet thundered across the meadow, and she let out a roar as she ran.The two cubs had picked up the scent of the predator and were bawling loudly as they looked at the coyote.
In a moment, the grizzly was between the cubs and the coyote, on her back legs and roaring.
That was all the distraction Caleb needed.The confrontation between mother and predator could last some time, but unless the coyote had help, he wasn’t going to be eating any bear cubs today.
He nudged Pirate, and the gelding carried him up the trail and into the forest.
When they reached a wide bluff of bald rock, Caleb reined in and pulled a brandy bottle filled with water from his saddlebag.As he drank, he looked down at the mist rising above a frothing river that thrashed and battered its way past shimmering boulders and fallen timber.
To his right, ridgelines and depressions in the mountain terrain rose and fell, each one as deep and wide as the river valley that held his entire ranch.But the land here was steep and rugged and filled with pine and fir that stood straight as sentinels.And above it all, Devil’s Claw reached for the sky, an open hand of rock ready to pluck down and crush in its grasp any cloud foolish enough to stray too close.
On the westerly side of the river, Caleb spotted another trail winding in and out among the trees and rock.There was more than one way through here, and miles ahead, beyond this narrow pass, Caleb knew that the land opened up into high mountain forests and meadows, rock canyons, and crystal-clear rivers and lakes.But it was a hard, unforgiving place, unfit for the fainthearted.Over the years, more prospectors and hunters went in there than returned.
And somewhere in that vastness were Doc Burnett, Smith, and the men who had taken them.
The shadows were growing long when he heard the sound of rifle fire ahead.
Twilight had gathered under the walls of rock and forest on the western face.Caleb dismounted and led his horse along the trail.Before he could get close enough to see who was going at it so fiercely, he realized he would not be able to pass by without getting caught in the crossfire.
After tying his mount in a protected grove off the trail, he slid his Winchester from its scabbard, unfastened the thongs from his twin Colts, and moved stealthily along the shadowy trail.
ChapterThirteen
Doc Burnett withdrewhis hand from the patient’s forehead and sat back.It was late afternoon, and the fever that had started yesterday was worsening.He needed to act soon, or this woman would surely die.
Doc pulled open his valise on the odd chance he’d missed something.It was a waste of time.He knew perfectly well what he’d brought, and the bottles he carried in the bag were sitting on the floor beside the bed.He picked up each one, hopeful there was a drop left.They were empty.
