Free the Daybreakers (1960) by Louis - Sackett's 06 L'amour Page B

just a mean one.
    We banked our money with the Express Company in Santa Fe, and then we saddled up and started back to the Purgatoire after more cattle. We had us an outfit this time. Dapple was still my horse, and a better no man was likely to have, but each of us now had four extra mounts and I'd felt I'd done myself proud.
    The first was a grulla, a mouse-colored mustang who, judging by disposition, was sired out of a Missouri mule by a mountain lion with a sore tooth. That grulla was the most irritating, cantankerous bit of horseflesh I ever saw, and he could buck like a sidewinder on a red-ant hill. On the other hand he could go all day and night over any kind of country on less grass and water than one of Beale's camels. My name for him was Sate, short for Satan.
    There was a buckskin, a desert horse used to rough going, but steady. In many ways the most reliable horse I had. His name was Buck, like you might expect.
    Kelly was a big red horse with lots of bottom. Each horse I paid for out of my own money, although Sate they almost gave me, glad to be rid of him, I expect.
    First time I straddled Sate we had us a mite of a go-around. When I came off him I was shook up inside and had a nosebleed, but I got off when I was good and ready and from that time on Sate knew who was wearing the pants.
    My fourth horse I bought from an Indian. We'd spent most of the day dickering with Spanish men, and this Indian sat off to one side, watching. He was a big-framed Nez Perce from up Idaho, Montana way.
    He was at the corral at sunup and by noontime I'd not seen him have a bite to eat. "You're a long way from home," I said, slicing off a chunk of beef I'd had fixed for a lunch and handed it to him. He looked at me, a long, careful look, then he accepted it. He ate slow like a starving man who can't eat a lot at first because his stomach shrinks up.
    "You speak English?"
    "I speak."
    Splitting my grub down the middle, I gave him half, and we ate together. When we'd finished he got up. "Come--you see horse."
    The horse was a handsome animal, a roan with a splash of white with red spots on the white, the kind of horse they call an appaloosa. Gaunt as his owner he stood a good sixteen hands. Looked like this Indian had come a long way on short rations. So I swapped him my old rifle (I'd bought a .44 Henry the day before) and some grub. I threw in my old blanket.
    We were a week out of Santa Fe when we found a spot in the bend of a creek among some rocks. When we'd forted up they left it to me to scare up some fresh meat as we planned to live off the country and stretch our store-bought rations.
    That Montana horse could move. He could get out and go, lickety-brindle, and he was smart. We passed up antelope because no matter what folks tell you it's the worst kind of Rocky Mountain meat. Old-timers will tell you that cougar meat is best. Lewis and Clark said that, and Jim Bridger, Kit Carson, Uncle Dick Woolton, Jim Baker ... they all agreed.
    Morning, with a bright sun over far hills, shadows lying in the folds and creases of the country, sunlight on cotton-wood leaves and sparkling on the river water ... a meadow lark calling. Montana horse and me, we sure loved it.
    We took off along an old deer trail. This was higher country than before, the plateaus giving way to long ridges crested with pines and slopes dotted with juniper or pinon.
    Suddenlike, I saw a deer ... and then another. Tethering Montana horse I moved up with my rifle. Feeding deer are easy to stalk if a man is careful on his feet and doesn't let them get wind of him. When deer put their heads down to graze, you can move up on them, and you can keep moving, very quiet. When their tails start to switch they're going to look up, so you freeze in position. He may be looking right at you when he looks up, and he might look a long time, but if you stand right still, after awhile he will decide you're a harmless tree or stump and go back to feeding.
    I worked my way up to within