John pushed them hard until sundown. He reined in his mount at the bottom of a small valley, thinly spaced with bright green cedar trees. Winter grass was readily available in the valley and a small spring-fed stream cut its length.

John dismounted easily, hopping to the ground and immediately loosening, then removing the saddle and blanket from Ole Ned. He next removed the bridle and replaced it with a halter to which he attached a lead rope. He loosely half-hitched the rope around a small thorny bush and turned his attention to the other men, who had yet to leave their saddles.

“You boys want to come down and eat?” John asked. He moved over to Rusty’s mount and grabbed the reins. “Get on down,” he instructed.

Rusty groaned in obvious misery as he struggled to lift his leg over the horse’s withers. “Holy hell,” he complained, as his feet stiffly met the ground. It appeared he might fall for a moment, but he eventually steadied. “Are we still in Oklahoma?” Rusty asked in a serious tone.

Rusty noticed John smiled for the first time since he met him. “Yeah, but we won’t be for long if these beasts keep heading south. Right now we’re on old man Edwards’ ranch.” He pointed off to the south. “As a crow flies, the Red River lies about twenty-five miles that way. I could be wrong, but I’’m guessing that’s their destination.”

“What makes you think that?” Bryan asked. He was on his feet and loosening the cinch strap of his saddle.

“They’ve been making a few detours,” John explained, “but basically they’re sticking within a mile or so of Swine Creek. If they hold to that pattern…well, Swine Creek dumps into the Red River. There’s an awful lot of thick cover on the river.”

“They follow the creeks,” Levi remarked half to himself.

“What’s that?” John asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Levi laughed. He was out of the saddle and slowly rubbing life back into his sore legs. “It’s just an old saying from an old movie.”

“Boggy Creek!” Rusty replied. He started to laugh, but it hurt too badly. “That’s a classic in the bigfoot community, John. You ever heard of The Legend of Boggy Creek?”

“Well, I’ve heard of Boggy Creek, but I guess I missed the legend part,” he replied, only half paying attention to the conversation now. He was busying himself tying a forty-foot tether line between two large cedars. He knew the horses would need a good grazing and some rest.

After all the horses had been tended to and staked out to graze on the tether line, the men set about making dinner, which consisted of beans and some flat bread John cooked from scratch. Rusty had managed to make them a decent fire from a fallen birch tree. Levi filled their canteens with fresh water close to the springhead. Bryan tended the beans and watched John with fascination. He’d always dreamed of being a cowboy growing up. Now, he was seeing a real cowboy in action.

John kept silent as they were eating, preparing his thoughts. He knew he needed to express them carefully if he were going to convince these city boys of his plan. The sun had slipped over the horizon about an hour earlier and darkness had completely erased the landscape. The only thing visible was a few cedars illuminated by the glow of the fire. The horses could be heard munching contently a few yards away. The sounds of forks scraping tin signified the end of dinner approaching.

As the bigfoot researchers cleaned the tin plates John had prepared for them, he sensed the moment was right. Be nice, John, he reminded himself. I need these men.

“I’ve got a plan,” John began. All eyes turned to him expectantly.

—

Continue to Chapter 8 of A New Reality