Two days outside Sidewinder his horse stepped into a gopher hole and busted the right fetlock. Much as it pained him, he’d been obliged to put a bullet in its head.
He’d left the horse lying there without cutting off any of the haunch to take with him. He couldn’t bring himself to butcher such a faithful animal. It seemed wrong. Now he regretted his scruples. This barren country was an endless vista of rock and scrub. Not a critter to be seen.
There was nothing to do but cinch his belt tight across his empty belly and trudge onward.
