Chapter 3

The next day, Jake and Sue rose just after sun-up. They had made camp just as dusk fell, a simple one as the weather was mild. After some food, which they had brought with them, they just made a bed from a couple of furs which were on their pack horses, their own blankets, and then they stripped and snuggled down together.

The camp was away from any tracks amongst some rocks so, although they both kept their weapons within easy reach, they felt that they were well enough hidden that they could both sleep without someone having to keep watch. It had been a full day, so they just held each other for a while as they both drifted off to sleep.

Jake still enjoyed waking up naked beside Sue. This morning her head was on his shoulder, her unbound hair covering his chest almost like another blanket. She was warm and her steady breathing spoke of her confidence in him.

However, as soon as Jake moved, Sue was awake. She tensed and looked up at him without moving, saw he was just lying there without looking concerned about anything, and relaxed again.

"Good morning, lass," Jake greeted her and kissed her forehead.

"Mornin'" Sue mumbled into his chest and her hair.

They lay that way for a moment until, almost at the same time, they fought their way out of the blankets to start their day. Jake had a moment to admire Sue's lean, naked body as she made her way a short distance from the burnt-out fire before she squatted down beside a bush to relieve herself.

Jake himself turned away to find his own bush. He was standing there, enjoying the relaxing feeling of his first long piss of the day, when two light-brown arms came around him from behind and he could feel two firm young breasts in the middle of his back. He jumped, and the stream of piss bucked and drew patterns in the dirt. He was always amazed at how quietly Sue could move.

"Mmm," Sue breathed heavily into his shoulder. "Is good be with you in morning." And with that sign of affection she released him and went back to the blankets to put on her clothes.

By mid-morning, they were in the general area where the attacks had taken place. The trail was evident from the wheel tracks in the stony ground and Jake and Sue looked down from the high ground alongside. Anyone wanting to ambush a wagon would have a good view and could ride quickly down the slope to attack anyone on the trail beneath them. It seemed like a good spot for it and would be difficult to defend against, even if the wagon guards were alert.

The two of them rode down to the track and then started looking around on both sides for any sign of what had happened. As the weather had been dry, there should be some sort of marks still evident.

Sue was the first to see where a wagon had been driven off to one side. They followed the marks for a short distance, around a rise in the ground, and there were the remains of one of the wagons. The front half was pretty-well burned, but the back half of the wagon was still more-or-less intact, just pitched downwards where the burned front half had collapsed. The ore was missing, it was valuable so had no doubt been recovered, but there was still evidence of some of it in amongst the ash of the burnt portion.

The scene looked as it had been described. The wagon had been attacked, dragged off the trail, and then at least partially burned.

Going back to the trail, there was nothing particularly to show how the attack had happened. The rocky ground would have hidden most signs and it had been over a month since the event.

For the rest of the morning, the two of them kept searching the area. A second wagon was found about a mile away, in similar circumstances except there was almost nothing left of that one - the fire had consumed it all.

Then, at about midday and three or four miles from where they had discovered the first wagon, Jake found a smaller one. It must have been the payroll as it wouldn't have carried much ore. It was also away from the trail, but was tipped on its side. There were a lot of scuff marks around the destroyed wagon, but it wasn't possible to work out which were made by the ambushed crew, which by the ambushers and which by the rescue party that came along later.

The two of them widened their search, and Sue went up to the ridge to see where the attack could have started. She called to Jake, who hurried up to find her.

Sue was kneeling by a patch of dirt just over the top of the ridge from the ambush site. It was where the attackers could have waited, mostly hidden behind the crest of the ridge but ready to ride down at a moment's notice. Jake got off his horse and went to join her, taking care not to tread where she was looking.

There in the dirt were the marks of horses. They were quite scuffed as time had passed and the horses had obviously been milling about, treading over their own tracks. But there, to one side, was what Sue had seen. Quite plainly the mark of a single horse hoof, and the horseshoe it wore. These were shod horses - white men's horses. Or at least one of them had been. Had Indian's stolen a white man's horse? Or were the attackers white men, seeking to have Indians blamed?

Having found nothing more, and having had a cold meal which they had in their saddle bags, the two riders continued on towards Ennistown. They rode along the back of the ridge, away from the official trail but just in sight of it, hoping to find any more signs of an ambush site.

Their attention was largely on the ground in front of and alongside them, as well as the main trail below, so they were both a bit startled when, on rounding a blind corner, they found three Indians blocking their way.

Pale Horse and his two comrades were riding along the back of the ridge, keeping hidden from the white man's path below them but alert for any sign of other people around them. The whites had moved into the area a few years ago and were now coming in increasing numbers. They were building their wooden dwellings all over the area and were even digging a big hole not far from here. Why they would expend so much effort to dig a hole like that he had no idea, but then he didn't understand whites at all. They were lazy, which is why he felt safe away from the trail - whites would use that and not come up here. And they also didn't understand the land and the interplay between the people, the animals and the plants. They just destroyed.

Whenever he had met white men, which wasn't often as he kept away from them, they always attacked him. They didn't do it very well, and he had killed some and avoided others, but it made him wary.

Today he was taking a look around his land. Normally groups of warriors went out to make sure their tribe was kept safe, riding from their village set back in the hills away from the whites, but the way things were changing it was best to be vigilant. From time to time he went out to look for himself. He had chosen two warriors to go with him, and he was going to see the big hole and how it had changed since last time he was there.

He was approaching a blind corner in the path when he heard noises from around the bend. They were soft, the sort of noise that a horse made when walking in dirt. There was no jingle of harness, but he knew it must be white men as there were no other Indians in the area. He just had time to pull up when two riders came around the corner towards him.

The two strangers also pulled up and stayed motionless. No more than thirty yards apart, the two groups looked at each other warily, alert for any hostile move.

He had been right, they were white men. They wore those hats that white men liked, which shaded their faces. But they were both dressed in buckskin, which wasn't so usual - at least in his experience. They wore guns around their waists and hung on their horses, but didn't have any in their hands.

The rider to Pale Horse's left was on a bay horse with a white blaze on its face. The man seemed quite tall. The other was shorter, and rode a black horse. Both were quite still but, he could tell, wary. Behind them were two pack horses, so they were obviously travelling some distance.

The tall man spread his arms, showing he wasn't holding any weapons, and called to him. Pale Horse didn't understand, but it sounded familiar and not like other white men he had heard calling to each other.

One of Pale Horse's companions spoke to him quietly, under his breath. "He's speaking Ute," was the surprising information.

How did a white man know how to speak Ute? And what was such a man doing here?

"Talk to him," he replied. "Ask him what he is doing here. But watch for any threatening moves."

"What do you do here?" the warrior shouted to the two white men.

"We look bad men who kill on trail there, " was the reply. "They make look like you but I not sure."

The warrior turned back to his chief. "He says he is looking for some 'bad men' who have been killing travellers. It seems that it may be our people who are doing it."

Pale Horse looked at the two whites again. They were talking together, and while he couldn't hear the words it didn't sound like white man talk - more like the first words he had heard from them. He supposed it was Ute again.

"Can you hear what they are saying?" he asked his companion.

"No," was the short answer. "They are not speaking Ute now."

That was even more curious. Who were these people? They were not making any threatening moves, and Pale Horse was not even feeling any threat from them, but he had to be cautious.

"Tell them to come closer so we can talk more easily", he said.

The message was relayed, and the two white men started their horses towards him. Both horses moved easily and he could see that they were much better quality than the horses he and his companions were riding. They were well built and looked fast as well as strong. For a moment he thought that, if things went wrong and he had to kill them, at least he would get two good horses out of it.

The white men drew up before him. The tall man's face was still shaded by his hat but at least now he could see him. He was good looking, had a short beard in the way a lot of white men did, and didn't seem at all afraid of being in this situation. Rather, he seemed prepared, either to talk or to take action if he needed to. His hands were still empty, but as he controlled his horse they weren't far away from his weapons.

The shorter man was equally prepared and he sat side-by-side with his companion. Both pack horses were on a long reign so they wouldn't interfere with any sudden movement and so that they could be released if things turned awkward.