Iron Eyes, no. 1 by Rory Black Page A

here for the night, Whit,’ the elder Hardy
brother shouted at his sibling, over the noise of the river as it
continued its never-ending flow.
    Whit crawled
down from his saddle and flopped on to the sandy ground.
    ‘ Get some kindling for a fire,’ Tom ranted, as he tied up his
horse to a tree-branch.
    ‘ What for?’ Whit drawled.
    ‘ For a fire so we don’t freeze to death,’ Tom said, as he then
tied up his brother’s horse. He started to untie the horse’s
belly-straps before dragging off the saddle.
    ‘ I hurt.’ Whit rubbed his inner thighs with his rough
hands.
    ‘ So do I,’ Tom shouted, as he started upon the second saddle
with tired hands.
    ‘ Not as bad as me.’
    Tom Hardy took
great delight in kicking his brother until the man got back on to
his feet and started to gather firewood from the sand around
them.
    Soon they had
enough, and the fire was set.
    Soon they had a
roaring blaze to sit before, with their stinking horse blankets
wrapped around their shoulders.
    The two men
watched the bacon frying in their pan. The smell was good.
    A coffee-pot
was hung over the flames that surrounded the cast-iron pan.
    Neither man had
eaten all day Now they were tired from riding and drinking. The
stars above their heads were brighter than usual, and they could
feel the frost gripping the edge of their blankets as they waited
for their food to cook.
    ‘ Reckon that varmint crossed here, Tom?’ drawled Whit, as his
mouth drooled.
    ‘ Couldn’t make out his tracks.’ Tom rattled the pan and added
more wood. ‘Too damn dark when we got here. But I got a feeling in
my guts that he wouldn’t have managed to cross that
river.’
    ‘ Why not?’
    ‘ Well, if he had tried to cross that I figure he done got
himself drowned.’ Tom hoped that was the case.
    ‘ I ain’t gonna cross this river here, Tom,’ Whit shrugged as
the sound of the rolling waves filled his ears.
    ‘ Why not, boy?’
    Whit rubbed his
nose upon his sleeve. ‘You know I can’t swim.’
    ‘ All you gotta do is hang on to the saddle-horn,
Whit.’
    ‘ What if the horse drowns?’
    ‘ Good point,’ Tom Hardy grinned. ‘That tequila must be doing
your brain good.’
    ‘ Reckon?’
    ‘ Yep. You are usually a lot dumber than this.’
    Whit Hardy
swigged at his bottle and accepted a large slice of red-hot bacon
on his tin plate. Both men ate and drank their fill.
    Tom Hardy drank
coffee whilst his young brother finished off his third bottle. Now
Tom knew he would have to hand over his three tequila bottles to
the youth. It always worked that way.
    As the snoring
filled his ears, Tom Hardy lay on the soft ground thinking about
Iron Eyes. The thoughts kept him awake for a long time.

Chapter Thirteen
    The hacienda was illuminated by a vast array of bright lanterns that seemed
to fill every possible corner and cranny The music was now even
more emotive, and filled the perfumed air of the
courtyard.
    Dancing seemed
to be what these Mexicans enjoyed best, and it was all totally
different to anything that the pair of gringos had ever experienced
before.
    The meal had
been little less than a feast, and the wine had flowed like water.
It was as if there was an endless supply of everything on this
ranch.
    The roasted steer was still being turned by the small group of
cooks over the fire. A quarter had already been eaten by the people
of the hacienda .
    It had even
tempted the bounty-hunter with its aroma and taste.
    The laughter
and joy that this place seemed to represent was strange compared to
the simple, hard lives both Iron Eyes and Jane had previously
experienced.
    She had been
washed and dressed by the female servants in a beautiful dress of
thin, frilly layers. She had had her long hair washed and dressed
until she looked almost to have Mexican blood herself Even the red
flower behind her ear seemed to be totally suitable for her.
    All Jane lacked was the smile that seemed to ooze from every
other female face on the rancho .

    Jane looked