3Up since dawn, Bryan wiped his brow with his sleeve and squinted into the bright sunlight, using his arm to shield his eyes. They’d been taking their time. For three weeks, they’d followed the river as it cut a serpentine path west. The abundance of water allowed them to keep their barrel filled and made travel much easier. The terrain, however, had not. Skirting the thick forests allowed for plenty of food, but the mass of oaks, elms, and walnut trees formed a cast-iron belt, forcing them to ride miles out of their way.
Once they’d reached the plains, they met a small group of Chickasaw hunters who warned them about the raiding Comanche and Apache bands throughout the area.
Two days before, he found a large group of unshod horse prints. Scattered chips of burned wood along with small a
