“See that, Fargo?” Fargo eyed the long rock spine. “Yeah. Could be quartz or mica. There’s plenty of reflecting mineral traces in those rocks. That’s the third flash I’ve seen.” “Ahuh. It’s just, I been jumpier’n a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs ever since you seen that glint back at the Colorado. That one was a rifle, by the Lord Harry.” About one hour of sunlight remained. The two men, guided by Fargo’s far from precise military map, were headed northwest from the expedition’s route. The map showed two wavy lines—the symbol for water—but unfortunately nothing indicated whether it was good or bad water. “I’ll allow as how them army mapmakers ain’t no experts ’bout water holes and such,” Grizz Bear groused. “You don’t learn that stuff in them colleges. But how’s come the stupid yacks don’t at least tell you if you can drink the damn stuff?”
What do You think about The Trailsman #396 (2014)?
