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51 Tamale Ridge by: Chuck Cusimano

The other men looked at him and smiled at each other as the men rode after his father and

Raul Guiterez, Francisco’s segundo. He was the son of a wealthy Haciendado! Didn’t they

know that? He wanted to cry but it was not like a man to cry.

Francisco and his men lost the track when darkness fell and a strong desert wind erased what

remained of the man’s trail. They would have to give up the search for now but Guerra swore to

kill the man who tried to molest his daughter. He couldn’t begin to think of anyone bold enough

to try such a thing as this. After all Rosemarie was the daughter of Francisco Guerra! He gave

his orders.

“We will return to the rancho, hombres but we will be cautious from now on.”

Ramon stood in the yard when his father and the men rode in. The other men looked at each

other and shook their heads but Francisco did not look at the boy.

CHAPTER EIGHT

I had left a horse in Raton so I would ride him and I borrowed another for Gilberto, with the

promise to return him within a week. We rode out of Raton following the road through

Blossberg, Swastica and all the mining camps going up Dillon Canyon. We topped out on a high

ridge. This ridge divided two large tributaries I explained to Gilberto that when rain fell here,

some would go toward the Canadian river to the south and east and some would go toward the

Purgatory and wind up in the Arkansas River, to the north and east.

“It is a long way to travel but I guess the rain drop does not think of time,” Gilberto said.

Then he added,

“Very much rain must fall first and soak up the ground, for there to be a few drops that will

run as far as you say, Señor.”

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