CHAPTER 24NEVER AFTERWARD would Bruce Powell forget the ride through the badlands. The moon did not rise until they had covered most of the distance and the footing was so treacherous that they had to dismount and lead their horses most of the way.
It was well after midnight before they reached the pass which James had been hunting and crossed the ridge to start down the south flank of the hills. Cappy was stumbling with fatigue and had to be helped to his horse when they finally reached ground smooth enough for riding.
James halted, squinting upward at the distant stars. “The worst is over,” he told Powell. “All we’ve got to do is follow this creek west toward Indian Wells.”
His statement proved slightly optimistic, for they were forced to make long and tedious detours around cut-banks
