16
On the evening of the second day, just as Y had predicted, the dusty treasure hunters plodded into the narrow river valley. Yesidro sat up in the saddle a little taller. It was the same valley that he and burro had been accosted in so many years ago. His senses were immediately more keen as if the danger somehow still existed. Burro, too, let out a disgruntled bray at the scent of the grass and water and perhaps some past recollection.
Jefe Don Juaquin raised his hand when he reached the creek edge. The company halted. He turned his horse and came to Yesidro’s side.
“Are we close?” he asked harshly.
“Si, Señor. A quarter mile.”
Don Juaquin turned again and shouted instructions to his men to make camp here for the night. They would go to the mine in the morning.
Yesidro dismounted
