What if it Snows?

Google search says Zane Grey.

 

The leader spoke with a deliberate but assertive calm. His words sounded almost French but, as I spoke no french I wasn't sure. They seemed puzzled but curious about my predicament and one of them shouted something and the leader quickly admonished him, or so it seemed. I tried with all my strength to move so I was facing them but on that rocky beach, it was difficult and I was only partly successful. Again, one of them shouted but there was no response from the leader as I lay on my side helplessly watching as they stared and their horses pawed and moved sideways back and forth.

It ain't Zane Grey....all 2old

 

Then the leader dismounted and seemed to indicate that the others follow. One man drew his revolver and seemed to object to any involvement other than a bullet to my head as I stared up at his barrel.

 

Then, speaking in a tone that sounded almost consoling, the leader raised his hands as if to appear concerned and questioning. Then turned to his subordinate and motioned to him dismount, in a tone that was clearly a command. It seemed to me at that moment, that I might not be at the mercy of the men who were chasing me but rather.... someone else.

 

I remember clearly being hoisted onto a horseback and the sense of someone sitting behind me but after that, there was a camp fire - there was a rain storm and there was a sense of uncertainty. My only clear memory was waking in a dark place with women talking in a language that I could not understand with a tenderness which I can only describe as caring and kindness.

 

I don't know how long I was in the care of those women. Days maybe? I think I must have slipped in and out of consciousness several if not many times. I remember wondering if my neck or back had been broken as my left leg was nothing more than a dead limb. No feeling and unable to move it, I had resigned myself to thinking it would be a useless appendage and perhaps victim to amputation.

 

Clearly there were children outside. I heard laughter and commotion and the shuffle of their feet. I imagined them playing some kind of soccer. But, now and then, one of the women would leave the dwelling and softly admonish them. I was sorry to hear it.

Then without warning came the sudden and freightening entrance of what I can only describe as a crotchety elderly man. He seemed annoyed and in a rush to deal with me.

 

He motioned angrily and muttered commandingly that the women leave as he stood at the entrance. Acknowledging his command the women scurried out and a deafening silence replaced them as he stood looming over me.