Gone to Ground Read Online Free PDF

exception of the area just below, to the right and left of his position. He could make out the northern opening of the canyon, the gray, weathered barn and corrals, and a portion of the camp’s yellow and red granite and sandstone house with its nearby windmill. There was the woman’s horse, tied at the hitching rail outside the barn with its saddle off. In the pasture was the small group of cows she’d been pushing, as well as four or five others. A short distance from the cattle grazed three more horses.
    The man’s gaze was pulled back to the barn’s opening when a small blond boy, about ten or twelve from the looks of him, came running out, followed by two dogs and a young calf.
    “Mark,” came a  voice from within the barn, faint but discernible.
    The boy skidded to a stop, only to be run into by the closely following calf, knocking him to the ground. He got up, pushing the calf’s nose away from his face and called back, “Yeah, Mom?”
    “Would you brush Hank then take him back to the pasture, please?” the voice called. “I’ve got to milk Lizzie if we’re going to feed Jenny and have some milk for supper.”
    “Sure, okay,” answered the boy, Mark.
    He walked to the hitching rail followed by his small entourage, and bent to pick something -  a brush -  from the ground near the base of the post and proceeded to brush off the horse’s back. Once finished, he untied the gelding and headed for the pasture gate, putting the animal inside and removing the halter. The horse turned, nuzzling the boy and apparently received a treat for his efforts, then ambled off to rejoin the other three horses in the band. The boy returned to his original trajectory, heading for the creek where it widened into a small pond. There he picked up a fishing pole, planted himself on a boulder and cast his line into the water. The dogs and the calf who had accompanied the boy down to the creek, settled in to await the outcome, the dogs curled up in the shade of some nearby willows, and the calf grazing in the lush grass.
    He saw the woman head out into the pasture toward the small group of cows, returning shortly with a small brown model and disappearing into the gloomy interior of the barn. Not long following this vanishing act, the sounds of banging and clanking and the occasional indecipherable exclamation wafted out of the structure, resulting in a soft chuckle from the observer. After about twenty minutes the woman emerged, looking slightly the worse for wear and carrying a bucket of what the man assumed to be milk. Toting her hard fought for treasure she headed toward the house, passing out of his sight as she made for the door.
    The man saw no one else, nor any indication that anyone but these two were at Hideaway. As he worked his way back down the trail to the canyon bottom he deliberated his next move. It was time, he decided, to make his presence known. Regardless of where it went after that, it had to start somewhere.

4
    Maggie, unaware that she was being followed, drove her small group of cattle down toward the barn. She was trying to steer them toward the pasture instead of the garden when Mark came running up from the creek, followed by Jack, Gypsy and Jenny, the small orphaned calf Maggie found next to its mother’s dead body two weeks ago. She waved to him, and received his wave in return.
    “Mark, run down and open the gate to the pasture,” Maggie called out as the boy approached. “Then stand off to the right so that the cows don’t turn the wrong way. And keep those dogs from spooking the cows, got it?”
    “Okay, Mom.” Mark turned and headed for the large gate next to the barn. The dogs hesitated, but responded when the boy let out a loud whistle. Jenny, the calf, started to head toward the cows, then suddenly cranked her tail high into the air, let out a strangled bawl and tore off after the threesome.
    The gate Maggie had indicated opened into a large pasture that ran down to the stream and