Thirty-FourThey had been riding for four hours and were getting saddle sore. Nathan, who was much more road-hardened than John was, slowed his horse to a walk and gestured to a pretty vantage point, a rocky spur protruding out from the main range offering great views over the valley below. To get to it they had to cross a small stream where the horses could drink.
“What do you say, brother? I suggest we give ourselves and the horses a short rest and brew a billy. I’d say we’re a couple of hours away. We should get there before full nightfall, even with the rest.”
John was glad of an excuse to dismount. He’d got too soft with town living. He tried to muffle the groans as his feet hit the ground and his buttocks protested at the unusual exercise. He used to be on a horse every day, he refl
