Novel 1956 - Silver Canyon (v5.0) by Louis L’Amour Read Free Book Online

escape route.
    I slept in a sheltered place near the spring and at daybreak I rolled out of my blankets and saddled up.
    The morning was clear and cool. In an hour the sun would be warming the hills, but now a coat was a comfortable thing. Reluctantly, I put out my fire and swung into the saddle. The buckskin was frisky and tugged at the bit, ready to go.
    Rounding a bend, I suddenly saw a dozen riders coming toward me at a canter. Wheeling the buckskin, I slapped the spurs into his flanks and went up the Wash at a dead run. A bullet whined past my ear as I swung into a branch canyon and raced to the top of the plateau.
    Behind me the racing horses ran past the canyon’s mouth. Then there was a shout as a rider saw me, and they turned back. By the time they entered the canyon mouth I was on top of the mesa.
    It was the Pinders, and they were out for blood.
    I dropped to the ground and took a running dive for a rock, landing behind it and swinging my Winchester to my shoulder at the same time. The butt settled, I took a long breath, then squeezed off my shot.
    A horse stumbled, throwing his rider over his head, and my second shot nailed the rider before he could rise. Firing as rapidly as I could aim, I sent a dozen bullets screaming down the canyon. They scattered for shelter, a wild melee of lunging horses and men.
    The man I’d shot began to crawl, dragging a broken leg. He was out of it, so I let him go.
    Several horses had raced away, but two stood ground-hitched. On one of these was a big canteen. I emptied it with a shot. A foot showed and I triggered my Winchester. A bit of leather flew up and the foot was withdrawn.
    Bullets ricocheted around me, but my position could not have been better. As long as I remained where I was they could neither advance nor retreat.
    The sun was well up in the sky now, and the day promised to be hot. Where I lay there was a little shade from a rock overhang, and I had water on my saddle. They had neither. Digging out a little hollow in the sand, I settled down to be comfortable.
    Several shots were fired, but they were not anxious to expose their position, and the shots were far off the mark.
    Five…ten minutes passed. Then I saw a man trying to crawl back toward the canyon mouth.
    I let him crawl.…When he was a good twenty yards from shelter I sighted down the barrel and put one into the sand right ahead of him. He sprang to his feet and ducked for shelter. I splattered rock fragments into his face with a ricochet and he made a running dive for shelter, with another bullet helping him along.
    â€œLooks like a hot day!” I called.
    My voice carried well in the rocky canyon, and somebody swore viciously. I sat back and rolled a smoke. Nobody moved down below.
    The canyon mouth was like an oven. Heat waves danced in the sun, the rocks became blistering. The hours marched slowly by. From time to time some restless soul made a move, but a quick shot would always change his mind. I drank from my canteen and moved a little with the shade.
    â€œHow long you figure you can keep us here?” someone yelled.
    â€œI’ve got plenty of water and two hundred rounds of ammunition!”
    One of them swore again, and there were shouted threats. Silence descended over the canyon. Knowing they could get no water must have aggravated their thirst. The sun swam in a coppery sea of heat, and the horizon was lost in heat waves. Sweat trickled down my face and down my body under the arms. Where I lay there was not only shade but a slight breeze, but where they lay the heat reflected off the canyon walls and all wind was shut off.
    Finally, letting go with a shot, I slid back out of sight and got to my feet.
    My horse cropped grass near some rocks, well under the shade. Shifting my rifle to my left hand, I slid down the rocks, mopping my face with my right. Then I stopped, my hand belt high.
    Backed up against a rock near my horse was a man whom I knew at once, although I had