Reuben Excerpt from Uncompahgre

Reuben rode into the dusk in search of solitude. He needed time to think about the push over the mountains, and who might accompany him. The questions appeared more formidable than he had imagined. He grimaced at himself. The palomino moved surefooted in the moonlight, which cast a silver net across the land. Three large fires marked the wagon train, a half a mile out.

He leaned forward and patted the palomino’s neck. “You don’t have much to say, Lahn, and damn few answers, but I appreciate you listening.” The big horse’s muzzle seemed to nod up and down, and he blew softly through his nose. 

Reuben shook his head. “The longest most difficult journey lies ahead of us, Lahn. Do you think we can find several hundred good head of cattle, within a weeks’ ride of where we are now camped?” He clicked off the time that would be needed. “Cattle. Hire three good men. Get supplies. Purchase additional wagon to haul building supplies. Perhaps a third wagon for provisions. Teams for the wagons.” The list seemed endless, and Lahn still seemed to have no answers.

Reuben fell silent. The scout hired by his father and uncle indicated on the map he drew that it would be a two or three-week journey to the Red Mountains to the valley of the Uncompahgre River, where he recommended the ranch be established. The scout had written the same words repeatedly in different areas on the map. Rugged. Steep. Uninhabited. Ute Indians. Some Navajo.  According to the scout’s letters, the first snows could blanket the Uncompahgre early September in some years. Would there be enough time to put up a decent shelter? If not, then what? The scout had written about winter temperatures well below zero, and snows over ten feet. He would have to acquire title or legal claim before building.