6
Willson held the eight reins gingerly in his palms, sensing the varying wrenches and tension from each animal. He was an expert driver day or night, at one with the coach and team.
Two narrow wagon ruts lay ahead of the team’s pounding hooves. Sixteen strong legs pulled, clattered and stumbled on, moving the stage and its occupants into the night before them. When one began to tire he was pulled on by the endurance of the others, and they were all steadied by his hand on those reins.
The noise of beast and burden was deafening. The dust, suffocating. Wheels rang against rock, wood frame creaked, leather strained against binding, teeth ground and men groaned. Somehow by grace or luck the whole transport, men and horse stayed in one piece, lurching onward into the night.
Tuc Montgomere
