The first inkling Ritter had of their approach was the creaking of rusted wagon wheels clattering over the iron-hard, impacted earth. He reined in his horse, senses alert, and peered down the narrow trail to where it disappeared amongst the rising rocks on either side of the gorge. As yet, there was nothing to see, but he wasn"t about to take any chances. He knew full well what the sound gave him warning of, so, kicking at his horse"s flank, he turned the animal around and spurred it towards the group making their slow and idle way into the pass.
“What is it?” demanded Merry, noting Ritter"s wild look. The priest was already reaching for his g*n. “Is it Indians?”
“Worse. Get the wagon into cover.” He waved towards Nati, beckoning her to get down and join him. “We haven"t got much time. A
