The patrol rode two hours northwest. There were signs of men. But there was no moon and in this dark they must stop. Tom Lawton and King Edward built a fire.

Nixon bit the end off a cigar and lit it in the fire. He looked up at the dark mass of shadow that was the tree-lined escarpment of Hell Hole Shelf. He thought, We could spread out and work up the hill, but it would be very hard going, and we could get isolated.

Tom Lawton was asleep under his hat. King Edward stared at Nixon across the fire.

‘Let me go up, boss. Another day and we lose em in the stones. Let me go ahead.’

Nixon sighed.

‘The horses are unsaddled. They need rest.’

‘I don’t need a saddle, boss. Just a bridle. Let me ride on.’

‘You report back to me. You understand?’

‘Yes, boss.’

‘You don’t fire on anyone unless you’re in mortal danger.’

‘Yes, boss.’

‘Unless your life’s in danger. You understand?’

‘Yes, boss.’

‘And you come back!’

‘Yes, boss.’

Nixon nodded and pointed at the horses.

He lay down and watched King Edward ride out of camp.