The Brink(ley) of Extinction

7

            Outside, the air had cooled considerably, eliciting a shiver from both girls. Beth glanced to the west, judging how much time they had before the light was gone. Then she hurried to catch mounts while Blythe tied a rope around one of the dogs' necks. They turned up their coat collars, pulled their hat brims down and loped out of the yard to the east. Their wolfdog, Daisy, kept up without too much trouble.

          Beth rode straight for the downed log, staked her mount out, and set about gathering kindling from the trees along the creek bank. She wanted to get a fire going as quickly as possible. Blythe stripped the horses down and staked out Daisy as well. She had a circle of grass scraped down to dirt when Beth returned with an armful of wood. Moments later, a trail of smoke wafted into the air, followed by flickering flames. Beth fed it until it was a perfect-sized campfire.

          "Ye are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hid." Blythe murmured, staring into the crackling flames.

          "Neither do men light a lamp, and put it under a bushel, but put it on a stand; and it shineth unto all that are in the house." Beth finished. Neither woman had attended the small church in  town for several months, spring was too busy a season.

          A wolf howled in the distance, then was joined by a handful of others. Daisy growled, causing the sisters to reach for their rifles. Beth glanced at the horses, they were both relaxed, grazing. Their ears swiveled around to catch all the sounds of the night. Beth eased herself down against her saddle and rummaged around in her saddlebags.

          Not finding what she was looking for, she asked Blythe, "Is there a harmonica in your saddlebags? I can't find mine."

          Blythe searched but came up empty-handed as well.

          "That's a shame." Beth muttered, "We forgot the coffee pot too, didn't we?"

          "Yup." Blythe replied. It wasn't a big deal for either of them as they both didn't drink it, but Beth thought it might help them stay awake.

          Fifteen minutes into the night-long vigil, Beth tacked up her mount and rode around the herd, singing hymns. Then she settled back down in front of the fire. Blythe took the next ride. Then Beth. And again, Blythe. Until finally, Beth was able to distinguish colours in the landscape. The night was over, the only threat having been occasional howls that seemed to move farther away.

          Beth mounted her gelding, whom she had named Dixie for no other reason than it was the first word that came to mind when Papa had brought him home a handful of years ago. He was solidly built, chestnut with a flaxen mane and tail, and the sweetest nature Beth had ever known in a horse. Even now, after being worked all night long, he rested his head on her shoulder while she did up the bridle's throatlatch. Beth's heart melted toward her horse.

          "One more round, my boy, then we'll rest, and head home." She patted his neck and swung up. Dixie stepped out willingly and took Beth around the outside of the herd once more at a slow walk. By the time they arrived back at camp, Beth could see clearly, although the sun had not yet peeked over the horizon. Blythe was tacking up her horse.

          The campfire had been thoroughly doused and soil kicked over the sooty mess. Daisy was nowhere to be seen. Blythe mounted up and waited for Beth to come even, then nudged her gelding into motion.

          "Daisy!" she called, then whistled.

          "How's India holding up?" Beth asked, nodding at the horse's plodding gait.

          "The poor old boy's exhausted." Blythe patted his neck sympathetically. "How about Dixie? He looks alright."

          Beth shook her head, "He's gonna need a couple days to rest. They haven't had to work so much in a while."

          "Nevermind all night." Blythe added.

          Daisy came alongside India and trotted past, heading for home. A couple of feathers hung from her mouth.

          "Well, she's had breakfast, at least." Blythe commented. Beth didn't bother to answer, but her stomach gurgled loudly.

          Papa met the girls at the door, after the horses had been cleaned up, fed and turned out to pasture. 

          "Come eat breakfast, then go sleep for a few hours." He instructed gently. He knew his daughters would insist there was too much work to do, unless they were bone weary. Neither of them even acknowledged him, but shuffled straight up the staircase. Seconds later, Brooks heard two doors click shut. Caroline came to stand next to him, clicking her tongue.

          Brooks shook his head, "I shouldn't have let them do it."

          Caroline patted his chest, "You know they had to be the ones to do it. You couldn't have stayed out there awake, kept watch over the herd and the fire all at the same time. Riding herd is not a one-man job. And you're not as young as you used to be." She stated matter-of-factly.

          Brooks sighed, "I need to hire at least one more man to help us out. Jackson was supposed to be back by now. Where has he gotten to?" Brooks couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong.