Arizona is a mean place which breaks now and then with a stream and some trees that persist in the rough weather. Riding east, I was met with hard winds and water so scarce that when we found some, Rooster and I both got right in. And always, when things seemed harsh, I reminded myself I was not inside a cell.
There was high ground and low, the high sporting forests, the low nothing but desert. None of this put me off. Rooster and I did some good time, full gallop now and again, then walking a bit. It felt good to be back in the saddle and always thoughts of Tombstone kept us going.
Towns were few, but when I came across one I had a meal and stuffed biscuits into my saddlebags for later. Rooster managed to thrive on what grass we found, which told me he was a cow pony because they knew n
