The lone rider sat his mount overlooking the valley with his cool gray eyes. Dripping the last drops of water from his canteen into his parched mouth, he swallowed hard. So many miles behind him. Far below a settlement was alive and crawling through its larva stage, windmill spinning and doors clapping shut sporadically to the rhythmic melody of cattle lowing. Wafting up through the air currents home-cooked food could be picked off the soft breeze blowing, and a mouth organ was harping lonesome tunes from the old country somewhere down along the main street.

“Another small town” the lone rider mused aloud. Riding long trails alone sometimes he found his horse quite good company. He patted the stocky mare’s neck affectionately, then leaned forward to massage the muscules on her shoulder. “We’ll take a lil’ detour. Head further on down the road. Whaddya think about that?”

Almost in reply the red mare nickered and stepped forward, choosing the narrow deer trail that wound around through the trees instead of the wagon road. She was used to the path less traveled. She was thirsty and looked forward to picketing time, yearned for grazing and the saddle off her back and water. The rider on her back she didn’t mind so much.

He had always been generous to her, spurs worn for style and not for use, rewarding her with bits of fruit and sugar when it was possible, attending to her needs after long journeys. Yes, at times he rode her hard, but she needed the exercise. And in rough country he never forced her into a canter. What more out of life could a horse want?

Winding their way through the trees, the two surpassed the town and continued on their way. They had come far and were headed further.

“But ma, they have guns!” Ten year old David was getting a scolding from his mother. He had left the milk cow across the river and for some reason was scared of bringing it back.

“You know we need milk Davy. If you don’t bring back Bessie, there will be no butter, cream, or cheese for me to sell. Hardeck’s men won’t trouble you. That is our cow, even if she strayed. Now that your father is gone you’ll have to take on some responsibilities.”

“Ma, they won’t let me!” She didn’t understand. Ma thought everybody had a bit o’ good in them.