Free Luke's Gold by Charles G. West Page B

that stretch of the river were broken with a multitude of gullies, making it a convenient place for the animals to move down to the water’s edge.
    â€œI don’t know about you,” Luke commented, “but I’ve got a godawful hankerin’ for some fresh meat. That looks like a natural waterin’ hole at that bend. Whaddaya say we pull back to that gully we just passed and make camp? It’s gettin’ on toward evenin’, anyway. I ain’t real sure, but if my memory serves me, we can’t be more’n a half a day or so from Big Timber. We might not run up on another herd of antelope before we strike the Boulder River. Maybe we can slip on up there to their waterin’ hole in the mornin’ before they come back to drink.”
    The plan suited Cade. He, too, was a little tired of salt pork. Of course there was the possibility that the herd would not return to the same bend to drink, but pronghorns were like everybody else—they had their habits. Both men had hunted antelope enough to know that this was the only chance they’d have to get close enough for a shot at the swift animals. They were already lucky not to have been spotted by the herd before they backed their horses out of sight. The pronghorns’ eyesight was unmatched, and they could easily outrun the fastest horse without breaking a sweat.
    Since they determined they were downwind of the antelope, they decided there was little risk in building a small fire to boil some coffee. Every so often, Luke would walk up to the edge of the gully to check on the antelope. As the evening approached, the herd gradually moved farther and farther away, casually grazing until Luke commented, “They’re dang near out of sight.” He came back down to the fire and settled himself. “If we’ve got any luck at all, we’ll be eatin’ antelope tomorrow night for supper.”
    â€œI just hope they come back to the same spot to drink,” Cade said. He got up and emptied the last swallow of coffee from his cup. “I expect they’ve moved far enough now. Let’s move up closer and find us a spot to wait for ’em.”
    The bend in the river where the antelope had come down to drink was almost devoid of trees, except for a few willows close to the edge. Some berry bushes struggled to live on a sandy spit that jutted out from the river’s bank after a drop of about twelve feet. The many hoofprints down the gullies that ran from the bluffs bore evidence of the herd’s recent visit.
    â€œThere sure ain’t much trees or brush to hide in,” Luke said, looking around him.
    A few yards from him, also looking around the bluffs, Cade said, “I expect we could leave the horses in that stand of cottonwoods up ahead before daylight, and we’ll have to hunker down in one of these gullies and wait.”
    â€œI reckon,” Luke replied, unable to think of any better plan. “Might as well go ahead and move ’em up, and we can just go ahead and settle in a gully for the night.” Cade agreed, so they moved their camp up to the bend and made themselves comfortable in a deep gully.
    Both men were up before sunrise, watching for the return of the herd of antelope. As the darkness began fading to gray with no sign of the swift animals, they were about to decide their gamble a poor bet. “Uh-oh,” Luke whispered. “There they are.”
    Gradually emerging in the fading darkness like slowly materializing ghosts, the antelope moved toward the water. Closest to the gully in which Cade and Luke had hidden, a buck corralled his harem of seven does, keeping a wary eye out for any challenges from other bucks. “Come on down for a drink,” Luke whispered, “and we’ll take a couple of them ladies offa your hands.” In a few moments, the buck did as Luke had requested, and led his does down from the bluffs.
    â€œWhich one you thinkin’