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Show THE ZEPHYR/FEBRUARY-MARCH 2008 knew a Navajo near the big reservoir, would pay the man a visit, maybe borrow a light rod and some tackle. They made good progress until dusk, camped beside a trickle of a stream in the bottom of anarrow canyon. He built a fire and made coffee. The mustang drank from the stream while the last light vanished. A chill followed the appearance of a sprinkling of stars. FROM FOOTPRINTS Burns skinned the snake and skewered it on a thin oak branch. When the fire allowed, he held the meat a few inches above the coals, listened to it sizzle. The snake smelled 121 EAST 100 SOUTH #108 MOAB, UT 84532 800.635.5280 There was a crack a few yards off to his right, opposite the mustang’s last sounding. Burns eased the .45 from its holster, crouched lower. He heard the mustang neigh, alarmed. The horse was talking to him. Burns gripped the pistol with both hands, took a series of slow deep breaths. Something moved, barely a shadow. The mustang made a move away from the fire, finding the end of its tether. Like an apparition, a faint trace of features appeared. Burns held steady, breathed, waited. The fire was low, only enough flame to maintain heat for the snake. He saw a face, a pair of marbles peering at him through the night. He moved the pistol slightly, found a target for when the time was right. The cat lowered itself, its eyes on Burns and the snake. It was weighing the situation, verifying available facts. When the odds were clear, it would move in one direction or another. Burns heard the mustang neigh again, saw the cat look askance for an instant. It was all the time he needed to pull the trigger and be done with it. The cat turned back, looked at Burns. The animal’s eyes were lit from within. The effect was mesmerizing. “You might have nine lives but this here .45 is serious business,” Burns said. The cat went lower then swung around and Cee into the void. As if a hole had opened up and swallowed the animal. Burns remained in his crouch until his legs pedied. He kept the perl ence across the fire, eased forward and whistled. The mustang obeyed, came back towards the camp. Burns rotated the skewered meat with one hand, the pistol in the other. When the snake was done, he tossed plenty of wood on the fire, stoked it, throwing light everywhere. When he felt sure of his safety, Burns tore into the snake. Later he would say it was the 10. My dory was hung on a rock 9. Somebody stole my bike 8. It was too hot 7. There was no cell service in the canyon . | thought the 24th of every month was a holiday . My neighbor's wireless is down . | think Woody's clock is off . | fell down and broke my growler OD O He heard the mustang grazing, the faint sound of creek water. The sky was a dark velvet, peppered with shimmering lights. It was a good place to be, no matter the circumstances. Top 10 Moab Excuses for Missing Work hf stances. QO good, caused Burns’ mouth to water. It would be a decent switch from jerky and canned beans. He heard the mustang grazing, the faint sound a creek water. The a was a, dark velvet, peppered with shimmering lights. It was a good place to be, no matter the circum- 2. | got lost in Cisco 1. Systec computer support transferred my call to India POTENTIAL OUT-OF-TOWN ADVERTISERS! Don't let a little thing like distance come between us. Be the first in your distant city or town to advertise in a publication that is hundreds or thousands of miles away best piece of meat he’d ever tasted. cezephyr@frontiernet.net Ned Mudd, author, musician, philosopher and mad man, lives in Birmingham, Alabama and is a regular contributor to The Zephyr. His email address is: nedmudd@bellsouth.net 2008 calendars are out!!! which makes sense because next year is NOW GET YOURS AT BACK OF BEYOND BOOKS ORORDERONLINE: WWW.CALEN DARS.COM Doesn't it almost seem like yesterday when it was 2007? Don’t wait or soon it will be 2009 |