Free the Quick and the Dead (1983) by Louis L'amour Page B

warmth penetrating the sore muscles around the wound. She then wrapped the leg in a poultice, and left him alone.
    He could lie there in the darkness watching the movement around the camp fire, but nobody came near him again or seemed aware of his existence. He understood that. They suspected they were being watched, and wanted Shabbitt and his men to see nothing that would lead them to suspect his presence.
    When it was almost midnight a woman came to him with another cup of broth, then some coffee, almost too sweet with sugar. She sat by him while he ate, and once she put a hand on his brow, but she did not talk and shook her head when he started to speak. Before daybreak he was again rolled in the hide and tied to the travois.
    He slept the day through. Twice a woman stopped near him, holding a bottle of water at her side, and he managed to take hold of it and drink. Again at night he was hidden and cared for.
    On the third night, lying alone in the brush, he heard a faint stirring near the camp. His hand rested on his gun, and he listened again. Something was drawing near, moving very quietly. He heard a faint sound of metal striking a branch, a hoof-fall. Somebody was riding toward the camp, riding in the darkness.
    He listened, straining his ears. The Indians appeared to be sleeping, the dogs made no sound. He drew his gun.
    The movements drew nearer. He was still in no shape for a fight, although he seemed to be regaining his strength, but he did not want to fire a shot unless there was no alternative.
    He eased back under his blankets, ears straining for sound, his eyes upon the darkness. He must not shoot ... not until he knew what he faced.
    The movements ceased. Firelight flickered on the branches overhead. Suppose they simply fired into him without appearing in the open where he could see them? Suppose they gave him no chance?
    Movement started then stopped again. Was the mysterious rider looking into camp? Was he close enough for that? Why weren't the Indians awake? Why weren't the dogs barking?
    He turned his head and looked toward camp. All was still. The coals glowed and a tendril of flame burned some unconsumed branch on the far side of the fire.
    He thought suddenly of the McKaskels ... where were they?
    The horse moved again, nearer.
    He lifted himself to one elbow, the pistol in his hand. He moved back the blanket and pulled himself against the trunk of a small tree, waiting.
    The steps drew nearer. The horse blew slightly through its nostrils, and suddenly he had a hunch. Catching a limb of the small tree he pulled himself erect, balancing on his one good leg.
    Holding his gun ready he made a small chirping noise with his pursed lips.
    There was silence, and he could picture the horse standing, its ears up. And its rider?
    The horse moved forward, pushed through the brush, and suddenly an Indian, rifle in hand, was beside him.
    The horse appeared, head up, ears up, nostrils distended.
    "It's all right, boy," Con spoke softly. "It's all right. It's me."
    It was his own horse. Somehow, through the night and the day and the miles, his horse had found him. The horse came up to him, and Con put his hand on its neck. He tied the horse to a branch near his bed. The Indian disappeared in the brush on the far side of the fire. Con got back into his bed and pulled the blanket over him. He looked up at the horse. "It's all right," he said, "you're home again." And then he added, "as much of a home as we're likely to get."

    Chapter X
    For several days the wagon moved westward, and they saw no human being, nor sign of any. They had left off to the south the trail to Sante Fe and the westward lands, while the Overland Trail was far away over the northern horizon.
    The rains had left water in buffalo wallows and holes beside the route they followed. At night they pointed their wagon-tongue westward, using the North Star as a guide, and by day the sun. The way they had taken was one no wagon had followed for it was far