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me?  Can she be trusted not to slit my throat when she
doesn’t need me anymore?  If Mr. Ponytail killed everyone he crossed paths
with, why didn’t he kill her, too?  And what’s so damn important about them
that they want to hide it?  Does the answer to that put me in danger somehow? 
I don’t like all this secrecy stuff at all.  Soon, though, we’ll split up, and
I won’t have to deal with it anymore.
    We
spent the rest of the day walking, and, in the late afternoon, I chanced a shot
at a small doe we had surprised in a meadow of no more than an acre in size.  I
only wounded it on my first shot, and it took a second to finally kill it.  I
hoped nobody heard my shots.
    While
I went about the business of gutting and skinning it, Gabriel and Anna took
some time to explore the area to try to determine by landmarks exactly where we
were.  About a half hour later, they returned and Gabriel told me that there
was a road not a half mile walk from where we were.  By the map, I figured it
was Highway 20, and by following it east we could hit Highway 153 and beyond
that 97 or even 155.
    It
was perfect timing, I thought.  We could eat that night, split the leftover
meat in the morning, and go our separate ways.  I decided then and there that I
would bypass the 153 to reach the 97 in order to have a better chance of
avoiding a confrontation with Mr. Ponytail, when I turned back south.
    After
stuffing ourselves with venison and sheep sorrel greens, Anna said she was
tired and asked if I would take the first watch.  She and Gabriel would take
the last two.  Now, since that was just about the first thing she’d said to me
all day, I guess I should have been a little suspicious of it, but I wasn’t,
and I agreed to the arrangement.  While she was standing there, I considered
telling them of my plan to go my separate way, but instead I decided to put it
off until morning.   My avoidance of anything even remotely confrontational was
at work again I guess.
    After
my watch, I woke Anna, who as usual didn’t say anything to me.  As soon as my
head settled down onto mWhile so engagedwoty rolled-up poncho, which I was using as a makeshift
pillow, I was out.
    ___________
    I
must have slept straight through because I awoke on the morning of April fifth
feeling pretty good.  However, when I looked over to see if Anna was still sleeping,
I discovered that both she and Gabriel, and their blankets, were gone.  A
search of our little camp revealed that all their gear was gone as well as all
but a little of the meat.
    At first I was angry.  They snuck off in the dark without saying,
“Hasta la vista baby,” “It’s been nice but not that nice,” or even, “We have
plans and they don’t include you.”  
They just took off.  It was like they were afraid I would try to stop them or
something.  Who does that sort of thing?  But the more I thought about it, the
more I calmed down, finally telling myself, what difference did it make?  I
wanted to be on my own anyway.  Who cares?
    My
newfound attitude changed again, a few minutes later, when I discovered the
meat wasn’t the only thing that was missing.  This was missing; this very
journal I’m writing in, as well as another one in Claire Huston’s hand.  And
that made me angry all over again.  How’s the saying go? 
“No good turn goes unpunished.”   I helped them, and they stole from me.  I
wanted the journals back.  I don’t know why, but they were important to me.
    Almost
immediately an entirely different thought settled in on me.  I remember
thinking that taking the journals had to be Gabriel’s doing.  Anna would never
have done such a thing.  She’d never shown any interest in them at all, and practical ole’ Anna wouldn’t want to lug them around
either.  No, it was Gabriel all right, and I told myself he took them not
because he wanted them for himself, but because he wanted me to follow him and
get them back.  Maybe that’s what they