“He knew we were riding into something, he knew there might be the smell of gunpowder, but he liked it, too. You could sense it in the way he moved. A man riding the same horse a lot comes to know his feelings and ways, for no two are alike, and I was one to make companions of my horses, and they seemed to understand. They knew we were in this together. Time and again, I drew up to listen. A man can't ride careless into wild country. The banks of the river had an easier slope below the elbow, an...d some grassy tongues of land pushed into the river. There was a rustling of water along the banks and a dampness in the air near the river. My horse pricked his ears, and we walked slowly forward. I heard no unnatural sound, smelled nothing until I caught a faint smell of wood smoke, and then a moment later an animal smell. Cattle! I drew up again. There was much brush, almost as high as my head, but scattered. Suddenly, sensing something near, I drew rein again. There were cattle near, and a large herd.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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