Spirit Of The Mountain Man/ordeal Of The Mountain Man (Pinnacle Westerns) Read Online Free PDF Page A

with the speedy grizzly closing ground with each bound of its oddly articulated hind legs. Smoke won, though only by a hair.
    He scaled the first twelve feet of the slender pine without even a grunt of effort. Once beyond the reach of the bear, he dug in his heels and shinnied up five more feet, grabbed the lowest branch, and pulled himself higher. With a powerful swing of his strong body, Smoke swung himself up to where he could straddle the branch. Now the sweat broke out. Smoke found himself panting for air. Below him the grizzly roared and assaulted the tree.
    It made a good five feet, then began to slide back from sheer weight. Snuffling and tossing his head, the bear began to circle the pine. Above him, Smoke hung on and tried to think of something good happening.
    After a third pass around the trunk, the bruin followed his nose to the wicker creel of trout and ripped it open. Voraciously it consumed every one, then went to the shore of the pond and waded out a ways. Competently, its long, sharp claws began to flash under the surface and come back out with a fat trout that flew sparkling through the air to land on the grassy bank. A disgruntled Smoke Jensen sat where he was and watched the bear work for an hour.
    When it had its fill, perhaps it would amble away, Smoke reasoned. That would give him time to get down, get Thunder, and get the hell out of there.
     
     
    Nightfall found the grizzly still there. He growled, yawned, grunted in frustration, stomped the ground, and made frequent trips from tree to pond and pond to tree. Smoke hung on and sweated. He removed his belt and fastened it around the trunk and retreaded the buckle. At least he would not fall asleep and become bruin breakfast. The ursine grumbling went on until a thin sliver of moon appeared to float majestically through the plethora of stars in an inky sky. At last, he fell asleep. So did Smoke. His last thought echoed in his head. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.
     
     
    A squat, bow-legged man, with grizzled, thinning hair, looked up from his kitchen table at the sound of a hollow thump that came from the small dock he had constructed out into the Colorado River. Visitors. And wouldn’t you know it, right at breakfast time. Hiram Wells cut his eyes to the cloth-draped larder. He knew by heart what was within it.
    Plenty of slab bacon. Only two eggs. Chickens had been acting offish lately. Flour for biscuits. Cornmeal, too. It would serve, and he could come out of it with a few cents in hard money. That would come in handy. Hiram pushed back his chair and came to his feet as he heard boots thud on the planks of his dock. He reached the door in time to count three men approaching at a stiff gait. One of them, he noted, limped. Too long in a boat, Hiram judged.
    Yeah, but from where? And all night? The questions plagued him while the strangers approached. They came straight on, not even a howdy. The one in the lead nodded pleasantly.
    “Mornin’. We’d be happy to pay if you could fix us something for breakfast.”
    Hiram pondered a moment. They stood and carried themselves like men of quality. Businessmen or the like. Yet they wore the thread-bare pull-over shirts and butternut linsey-woolsey trousers, with the broad black stripes that marked them as escaped convicts from the prison down-river at Yuma. A sudden chill struck him. Had he let them get too close already? Hiram decided to hedge.
    “I’m a tad light on supplies, gentlemen. But I reckon I can whip up some bacon and some scrambled eggs. Biscuits or cornbread. I’ve some honey.”
    “Fine, fine,” the apparent leader said rapidly. “Anything will do. We’re rather hungry.”
    He had that cultured way of speaking, Hiram noted. Could be he was mistaken about the clothes. They might be some back-Easty fashionable hunting togs. “Come on in, then,” he invited.
    Hiram went to the stove and turned his back to them. That way he failed to note the quick exchange between the trio. His