“I see.” Ellen turned her horse toward the mountain and started to ride.
Jim and the Appaloosa fell in beside her.
They rode without speaking. Jim enjoyed the feel of the warm sun on his back and neck. He watched an eagle soar and bank over the valley. It dove into the stream and emerged with a wriggling fish. He stole a look at his wife, and she was smiling back at him.
“I was thinking this is the perfect way to spend a day,” she said.
Jim grinned. “I wouldn’t argue.”
Slowly, they came to the tree line and rode deeper into the cool shadows. There were shallow cuts and channels here where spring runoff flowed. Several held water; most weren’t deeper than a handspan. Downhill, they gathered into rivulets before flowing into the easternmost feeder stream.
“There’s no gold anywhere in these?” Ellen asked.
“We couldn’t find any in the stream these all merge into. If there’s gold here, it would carry on into the larger water.”
“That would make sense,” Ellen nodded.
Along the base of the mountains, they turned south. A line of low clouds rolled beyond the peaks, gray and foreboding. A bolt of lightning flashed between cloud and mountaintop.
“We might get some weather,” Jim said. “Do you want to head back?”
“Not yet,” Ellen said. “I’m tired of being stuck in the cabin all day. I want to ride farther. I’ve never seen this end of the valley.”
They continued on. Jim pointed out the trail he’d come down after crossing over from Bidwell’s Bar. He showed her the high rock wall at the valley’s far end, and Ellen had been surprised at how steep and smooth the rock was.
“I can’t believe it just ends,” she said. “I thought there would be another opening up here.”
“No idea why it’s like this,” Jim admitted. “Your father thought it was odd.”
“It’s a perfect place to hide away from the world.”
“I think that’s why Donovan liked it so much. Not much chance of visitors.”
“What’s on the south side? More mountains?” Ellen said.
“Mountains,” Jim said, “but they’re of a different sort.”
“How so?”
“Steeper, jagged like the teeth of a new saw. There’s a rawness to them.”
“Raw mountains.” Ellen wrinkled her nose. “I’d still like to see them.”
“You’ll understand when you see them. I’ll show you.”
They swung around to the mountains on the valley’s southern boundary. These seemed steeper than their northern counterparts, higher, too. They were more exposed, the trees sparse, and as the wind gathered strength while crossing the valley, it sang over the high pines. Jim had spent little time riding along these. The cattle seemed to prefer either the open valley or the shelter of the northern tree line.
Even the terrain was rougher. There were cracks and splits all along the mountainside, rocks or boulders with edges sharp as knives, broad slides of loose shale, then stretches of rock so bare an ant couldn’t find a hole to squeeze down in. The spring water raced down in twisting rivulets, gathering in strength and power at every joining. Little grass grew. Here and there, a hardy tuft clung to the thin soil gathered on a rock ledge.
“It’s like a whole different place,” Ellen remarked.
“Sure is. I’ve never seen so much rock,” Jim agreed. “It’s like this mountain fought a war and came away carrying all these scars.”
“I don’t like it.”
A bit of dampness struck Jim’s cheek. He glanced at the gray sky. The sun was gone now, masked behind the clouds. There were streaks of rain across the valley. Inwardly, he swore at himself. He’d overlooked the danger. He’d allowed the search to distract him, and now they were in trouble.
“We’ve got to find shelter,” he said.
“Can’t we outrun it?”
“No chance,” Jim said. “It’s coming on fast and the cabin is miles away. We’ve got to find a place to hole up.”
Eyeing their surroundings, he spurred the Appaloosa into a quick trot. The trees here were few and spaced out too much to provide true shelter. On the mountain’s flank, he saw a few overhangs, but none looked deep enough to shield them from the storm.
Finally, when they could hear the rush of the oncoming storm front, he came upon a black opening that went straight into the mountain.
“I’ll go in first,” Jim said. “Keep the horses well back.” He passed the reins to Ellen, then drew his rifle from its scabbard. It wouldn’t do to disturb an angry bear or skunk in the dark.
Fortunately, the cave proved empty, but there were signs something lived in it at one time. Jim went back and waved Ellen inside. The horses didn’t like the cave, though there was room enough for them. Jim rubbed their necks and noses, trying to keep them calm as the storm broke over the cavern’s mouth. The Appaloosa relaxed at his touch, but he had to hold Ellen’s horse by its halter.
“Easy. Easy,” he said.
Ellen came up beside him, trying to help with the smaller horse.
“Nothing to fear. We’re safe from the storm,” she said, and patted its nose.
Curtains of rain fell over the cave’s mouth. Jim couldn’t see more than a foot outside. A flash of lightning lit the cave’s interior for a moment, then thunder rolled overhead, and both horses jerked with the sound.
