Suddenly the girl pitched sideways and a split second later the young man heard the distant shot
He dived for some rocks and watched as more bullets hit the girl
The young man looked to her body and as she died, he worked out where the shots were coming from
He knew death was going to walk on those shooters

There is one thing a white man should never do
And that is move towards an Apache​ because you will never get there
How do you catch dust in the wind?
The young man saw the way they were coming by the movement of insects and birds
And he knew where to go
Like the snake, he slithered into a dry arroyo and worked behind the shots in an arc
After a while he saw them: Three men, three white men clad in skins
And they walked confidently towards the girl
The young man knew somewhere behind them another one held the horses, making four all together
He moved towards that man
The killers could wait, let them enjoy the hunt before they went under

He found the one by the horses, he was young too
And he died quietly with a surprised indignant look on his face
The young man tied the horses to a tree, and they'd come in handy later, four horses and equipment
By the girl's body, two men knelt beside her while another stood guard
The guard suddenly cried out as his head exploded in a bubble of pink spray and he fell forward
The other two went to ground and nervously called out to each other

Do you see the bastard?
No, he must be close
But he wasn't
The Sharps sporting rifle will reach a long way in the right hands
The young man took careful aim and the smaller of the two men felt his right leg blast away
The bigger, heavier man sank as far into the ground as he could make himself go
But still, he could not see where the young man was