the horse go, or perform any other maneuver, Pang wallowed in ignorance. Even though the horse finally gave in and took off out of the alley in an imperfect trot, when they got to the street Pang did not know how to direct him. He reached forward and pulled back hard on his mane, which caused the horse to rear and throw the Chinaman to the ground. Luckily for Pang the horse just trotted a few steps away and stopped.
He walked up slowly to the animal with his hand out, palm up. âIâm sorry, Mr. Horse, for my lack of knowledge with you. But if you give me another chance, I promise I will do better next time.â
The sorrel stud bent his neck back to look at the Chinaman, snorted, and whickered. The activity had drawn a late night pedestrian near the scene, and after assessing it long enough, he turned and ran to the saloon. Pang knew that he had no time to waste, and after petting the stud on the neck, he remounted. Several people came running from the saloon, and one of them yelled âHorse thief!ââwhich was all the motivation Pang needed to use what he recalled from a horse race he once saw on the outskirts of town. He took a deep breath and hollered âYAH!â causing the stud to lunge forward. Pang held on tight to the horn of the saddle and let the animal lead the way, past the onlookers and down the street, and before long out into the moonlit wilderness.
*Â *Â *
Pang had no idea how far he had ridden, but at least he knew he was headed in the right direction, south, where Valdar had taken his sister and his fiancée. He knew, too, that he had to be conscious of all directions, that a posse was also looking for Valdar, and that likely a new posse had formed and would be looking for him, an escaped prisoner and horse thief. It was quite an aggravation for someone who only a few days before was sitting innocently in his tent sharing a meal with his family, and who knew how that peace was broken. It angered him to realize that the men who held him in jail, and the men who would now pursue him, were referred to as peace officers, yet they did nothing to help him restore the peace. This being so, it felt inappropriate to think of them as men. Only cowards would allow such injustice to occur and not follow their own hearts. And if their hearts could not see what was right, and what was truly wrong, then they definitely were not sane men, but controlled by demons.
Regardless of all that bothered him, Pang kept riding. As day began to break, he could see the lightâs reflection on the shallow pools of the Santa Cruz. He rode to the river and dismounted to let the horse drink and rest. Rest, however, was something that Pang didnât need. He couldnât remember a time when he had had such high adrenaline, and he felt a passionate desire to keep moving, but the lather that had surfaced on the horse around the shoulder billet and bridle told him that the horse did not share his feelings.
After the horse drank, Pang decided to walk it a ways down the riverbank. He supposed that not being hasty was a good thing, as his father had taught him that many times. A sadness crept through him as he remembered an old Chinese proverb that his father once told him:
A wise cat does not try to outrun a dog, but does catlike things to avoid him.
With such thoughts in his mind, and the spirit of his father hovering around him, Pang tried to utilize this wisdom. The riverbank was higher than his head, and he figured that it would be difficult for his pursuers to see him, but he knew, too, that they would follow his tracks. All he had to do was look at the water to realize that tracks underneath the water could not be seen as easily, so he acted like he was heading back north, then mounted the horse, went into the water, and with his hands on its neck coaxed the animal to turn back south. He rode slowly in the river for almost a mile, then exited the water on the west side and with his voice was
He walked up slowly to the animal with his hand out, palm up. âIâm sorry, Mr. Horse, for my lack of knowledge with you. But if you give me another chance, I promise I will do better next time.â
The sorrel stud bent his neck back to look at the Chinaman, snorted, and whickered. The activity had drawn a late night pedestrian near the scene, and after assessing it long enough, he turned and ran to the saloon. Pang knew that he had no time to waste, and after petting the stud on the neck, he remounted. Several people came running from the saloon, and one of them yelled âHorse thief!ââwhich was all the motivation Pang needed to use what he recalled from a horse race he once saw on the outskirts of town. He took a deep breath and hollered âYAH!â causing the stud to lunge forward. Pang held on tight to the horn of the saddle and let the animal lead the way, past the onlookers and down the street, and before long out into the moonlit wilderness.
*Â *Â *
Pang had no idea how far he had ridden, but at least he knew he was headed in the right direction, south, where Valdar had taken his sister and his fiancée. He knew, too, that he had to be conscious of all directions, that a posse was also looking for Valdar, and that likely a new posse had formed and would be looking for him, an escaped prisoner and horse thief. It was quite an aggravation for someone who only a few days before was sitting innocently in his tent sharing a meal with his family, and who knew how that peace was broken. It angered him to realize that the men who held him in jail, and the men who would now pursue him, were referred to as peace officers, yet they did nothing to help him restore the peace. This being so, it felt inappropriate to think of them as men. Only cowards would allow such injustice to occur and not follow their own hearts. And if their hearts could not see what was right, and what was truly wrong, then they definitely were not sane men, but controlled by demons.
Regardless of all that bothered him, Pang kept riding. As day began to break, he could see the lightâs reflection on the shallow pools of the Santa Cruz. He rode to the river and dismounted to let the horse drink and rest. Rest, however, was something that Pang didnât need. He couldnât remember a time when he had had such high adrenaline, and he felt a passionate desire to keep moving, but the lather that had surfaced on the horse around the shoulder billet and bridle told him that the horse did not share his feelings.
After the horse drank, Pang decided to walk it a ways down the riverbank. He supposed that not being hasty was a good thing, as his father had taught him that many times. A sadness crept through him as he remembered an old Chinese proverb that his father once told him:
A wise cat does not try to outrun a dog, but does catlike things to avoid him.
With such thoughts in his mind, and the spirit of his father hovering around him, Pang tried to utilize this wisdom. The riverbank was higher than his head, and he figured that it would be difficult for his pursuers to see him, but he knew, too, that they would follow his tracks. All he had to do was look at the water to realize that tracks underneath the water could not be seen as easily, so he acted like he was heading back north, then mounted the horse, went into the water, and with his hands on its neck coaxed the animal to turn back south. He rode slowly in the river for almost a mile, then exited the water on the west side and with his voice was
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