These are three tough men, but as they peered toward the sound of the falling rocks, a cloud of dust obstructed their view, was that a man they saw standing just far enough back to be all but indistinguishable? Or was it something else, perhaps it was just the way the dust played off of the available light streaming in.

Then it moved.

Andes snapped off a shot which was deafening! The echo from the shot repeated itself half a dozen times, reverberating through the tunnel in both directions. Whatever was ahead of them leaped to one side and disappeared!

"I seen it!" Dutch bellowed, "It was a man, I think! He, hell, let's get after him and no gawddamned shootin'!" The three scrambled to their horses, though it took them minutes to calm them enough to mount.

They raced forward to where they thought the 'man' had disappeared, the horses sliding to a stop as the riders stepped free of the saddles, guns drawn as they all looked around. the dust settling and what light there was illuminating the floor of the tunnel where they were standing when Isner said;

"Boys, look at this!" he said as he stared at the print. A single, large, barefoot print, was clearly visible as the other two moved closer to look

"Damn!" Muttered Dutch.

Doubt began to creep in as they rode along, the vanes of light from the crevices in the ceiling allowed the daylight to filter in, dust particles dancing in the shafts of light, but none of the three saw that. Nope, they were looking for the figure that they were beginning to believe they really had not seen, though there was the thought that yes, they had in fact seen something. Something that resembled a man, or was it the shadows playing hob with them, it was clear, the trio was spooked!

Yet they pressed on, and if whatever it was showed itself again, each of them believed they would kill it, end of the story. Of course, the earlier references to haits were also playing on them. And then just ahead, the cave tunnel fell into darkness.

"Hold up and light up them torches." Dutch ordered, "Isner you watch for anything!" All three stepped down.

"Got it!" Isner replied while the the new torches were soaked in coal oil and lit flooding the area around them in the yellow-orange light of the flames. He had seen nothing.

Dutch had liked the natural light, there had been enough of it to light the trail ahead, now they were back in a sphere of light that did not project very far at all, and that made him a bit uneasy after the figure had been seen, if it was a figure at all and not some illusion. They plodded on, wanting to reach the end of the tunnel and then find out if there was a way out, onto the Lost Lake before turning back the way they had come.

And Dutch was not the only one. Daylight was one thing, torchlight another, and all three hard men were spooked, to say the least. Now they moved a bit more cautiously, but steadily forward, all of them looking back until there was nothing more to see behind them, thanks to a slight bend in the tunnel. Yet up ahead there was daylight once again.

"So what if there's more'a them men?" Childers asked in almost a whisper.

"Then we'll kill 'em!" Dutch retorted. "An' shut up about it already! Whatever's ahead may be the end of this nightmare!"

Isner gave another glance behind him but there was nothing but the tunnel wall, and the only sound was the hollow clip-clop of the horse's hooves. He didn't like it, not one bit, they were going to have to ride back that way, but he kept quiet realizing all of them were on edge. So much so their pistols were loose in their holsters, not lashed down, riding high in the leather, trigger guards almost completely free of the holster.

The closer they got the clearer the sight of the end of the tunnel. The tunnel ended but off to their right was where the light came from. They threw down the torches as they would be of no further use, as most of the burlap-soaked head was gone and they would be all but impossible to re-light.

Dutch pulled up and dismounted as did the other two, ground-hitching their horses as they gathered together, all looking at one another as if they were wondering what to do next. To the right was an opening, maybe four feet high, by another maybe three feet across sitting atop an incline. He motioned to them to gather around and then whispered, "Isner, scoot up there and have a look-see, wave if the coast is clear."

Isner scaled the rocks and positioned himself where he could see through the opening, and he smiled. Just as he was told to do, he waved and then slid down the face of the rocks, dropping to the floor of the tunnel, grinning.

"We can just go 'round this here boulder mass, have to be on foot though, an' have a look-see at this here Lost Lake spread." He said just as Dutch held up a hand. Horses walking, then,

"Ain't hardly worth it Bill, all this ridin' fer nuthin'." A voice could be heard saying.

"Boss wants us ta patrol the range up here, so that's whot we're a doin'! Like it 'er not. Beats some 'o the other things we might have ta do. Sides, we make us a quick round up here and then it's back ta the lower range. Nothin' up here but rocks an' rattlers." This 'Bill' said. "C'mon nothin' ta see up here anyways." And the hoof falls began to fade off.

No one spoke until the hoofbeats could no longer be heard. "Alright, Seems like they don't know about this here tunnel, an' I don't see why not, but if they did, they'd have looked," Dutch said.

"What I was gonna say was, to take the horses through, we need to clear the way. Rocks an' such, and there's roots and some sorta vines that kinda hide the opening." Isner explained. "Won't be hard move them rocks, not at all, but hardly worth us doin' it now."

"Well, what'er we waitin' on. Let's us have a look and skedaddle back!" Derek Childes said, still thinking about the man they saw, or was it a man?

The three eased their way through the opening, over and around the rocks, which was certainly big enough for a man on a horse to get through, aside from the larger rocks impeding the idea. They stepped out onto the grass and looked around. There was a dim trail leading down meaning they did not send men up here all that often.

They could see below and remain concealed from view easily enough. The ranch house was in view, well a corner of it, and beyond that a wide vista of the lake, meadows, trails, even some cattle and riders could be seen in the distance, down the side of the mountain as it turned out. Obviously, they had gained elevation, however slowly, from their entrance to this exit point.

Dutch looked back over his shoulder to the top of the mountain, no one was up there, and that made sense as stationing men up there would be a waste of manpower until it became necessary, but that would be after the Evergreen had men up there. He smiled. With men up there and more coming in through this tunnel, as well as Ismael's Gate, plus men on the opposite side of the Gate covering the trail in, they would have the advantage.

"Let's head on back!" Dutch ordered, he too had thought of whatever that had been that they had seen, and it would be long ride back!

Isner scaled the rocks and positioned himself where he could see through the opening, and he smiled. Just as he was told to do, he waved and then slid down the face of the rocks, dropping to the floor of the tunnel, grinning.

"We can just go 'round this here boulder mass, have to be on foot though, an' have a look-see at this here Lost Lake spread." He said just as Dutch held up a hand. Horses walking, then,

"Ain't hardly worth it Bill, all this ridin' fer nuthin'." A voice could be heard saying.

"Boss wants us ta patrol the range up here, so that's whot we're a doin'! Like it 'er not. Beats some 'o the other things we might have ta do. Sides, we make us a quick round up here and then it's back ta the lower range. Nothin' up here but rocks an' rattlers." This 'Bill' said. "C'mon nothin' ta see up here anyways." And the hoof falls began to fade off.

No one spoke until the hoofbeats could no longer be heard. "Alright, Seems like they don't know about this here tunnel, an' I don't see why not, but if they did, they'd have looked," Dutch said.

"What I was gonna say was, to take the horses through, we need to clear the way. Rocks an' such, and there's roots and some sorta vines that kinda hide the opening." Isner explained. "Won't be hard move them rocks, not at all, but hardly worth us doin' it now."

"Well, what'er we waitin' on. Let's us have a look and skedaddle back!" Derek Childes said, still thinking about the man they saw, or was it a man?

The three eased their way through the opening, over and around the rocks, which was certainly big enough for a man on a horse to get through, aside from the larger rocks impeding the idea. They stepped out onto the grass and looked around. There was a dim trail leading down meaning they did not send men up here all that often.

They could see below and remain concealed from view easily enough. The ranch house was in view, well a corner of it, and beyond that a wide vista of the lake, meadows, trails, even some cattle and riders could be seen in the distance, down the side of the mountain as it turned out. Obviously, they had gained elevation, however slowly, from their entrance to this exit point.

Dutch looked back over his shoulder to the top of the mountain, no one was up there, and that made sense as stationing men up there would be a waste of manpower until it became necessary, but that would be after the Evergreen had men up there. He smiled. With men up there and more coming in through this tunnel, as well as Ismael's Gate, plus men on the opposite side of the Gate covering the trail in, they would have the advantage.

"Let's head on back!" Dutch ordered, he too had thought of whatever that had been that they had seen, and it would be long ride back!

None of them had checked their watch, though Duch hauled his out, a large open face model, silver colored, dented and scratched over time, but insofar as keeping time, it was right on the dot, or close enough or a watch taken from a dead bank guard in Olathe Kansas far in the past. It was nearly a quarter past four in the afternoon, so as near as he could figure they had been better than seven hours in this tunnel. The light was beginning to fade and would be gone in another hour. How far back could they make it before those shafts of light would be gone?

"We ain't gonna make it back, damn near dark now an' what we got maybe three of them torches left? They won't last the ride back!" He said, angry they had not thought about time. "So we can push on til the torches give out, we can go back outside the tunnel here and risk getting caught by the Lost Lake riders. It'll be best we move on till it's too dark, then stop for the night."

"Stop fer the night?" Childers asked.

"Wait, if we push on we still will run outta light and be forced to stop, an' I dang sure don't cotton to a gunfight ouside, so what say we move further away from that opening, and set up camp while there's still light enough to see what we're doing?" Isner suggested.

Dutch grinned, "That's what we'll do. We got maybe half an hour, so let's us mount up and ease away, 'case them two come back and like Isner says, camp while there's still some light left." almost as one the three mounted and moved away from the opening to Lost Lake and moved back the way they had come.

They made good time riding at a brisk trot to be away from the tunnel opening to avoid any confrontation with the Lost Lake riders. It made sense that if they had stumbled onto this tunnel someone on the other side had as well, at least that was the unspoken consensus. Now they had to worry about what might be behind them and what might lie ahead of them.

What was it that they all believed they had seen? A man? A bear? Was it on its hind legs, or standing upright? Still, there are three bad men considering that they had seen something they should fear, yet unsure of what it was or why they should fear it. They all rode with their guns loose in their holsters. If it breathed, they could kill it.

They stopped close to one of those places where the light streamed into the tunnel, though it was fading rather quickly. Dismounting the three went to finding wood, roots anything that would burn for a fire. Every man carried a pan and some sort of foodstuffs, so eating would not be a problem, it might not be good, but it might be filling. Their canteens had not been depleted so there was water to drink and maybe enough to make coffee.

Each had a bedroll of course, and each was accustomed to sleeping on the ground. They gathered enough scraps of limb, bark, and dried roots, that might be enough for two fires, evening and morning. So they began stripping their saddles and gear from their horses and began laying out bedrolls, getyting the fire started, and hobbling the horses.

Once that was done Isner began frying up some bacon, Dutch broke out a half full bottle of whiskey and they began to actually relax. Bacon was served up and the bottle was passed arouind. It seems that a weight ad been lifted from the group, men leaning back on their saddles, laughing and talking about how they wold lead a party of others through the tunnel to attack the Lost Lake from inside its very own range, as it were.

That was when a cascade of small rocks fell to the floor of the tunnel andf three pistols flashed out, hammers back

No one moved, the air was still, and there was no sound, other than their breathing. They were looking from side to side, even over their shoulders, but there was nothing, and what light there was, was fading fast, with the exception of the small fire they had started to cook their food and boil the coffee. None of that was of any interest to any of them at the moment. What was it, what caused it, and were they in some sort of danger? A danger they could not see, but appeared to be engulfed by.

Without a word they spread out, keeping low, but making more noise than any of the three would have liked. Yet nothing. No further sound of any kind, other than the horses who were milling about nervously, and that did not sit well with the men. Animals could sense things men could not, at the moment the three were on edge. If anything moved out there, whatever it was would draw a shot if not three.

Still, there was nothing, no sounds, no movement. Childers shifted his position and stumbled, falling flat as something whooshed over his head and could be heard striking the wall somewhere behind him. Dutch instantly kicked enough dirt on the fire to smother it as something else flew past him. Isner saw movement and fired, the lead striking rock and ricocheting several times off the tunnel walls.

Nerves were raw by this time. Isner swore under his breath as he cocked his pistol to the first notch and opened the loading gate, as he turned the cylinder to the expended cartridge, which he shook loose, then replaced it. The horses were calm and continued to forage for anything edible, of which there was next to nothing.

Once again, there was nothing, no movements, no sounds. Nothing.

"How the samhell them horses so calm?" Childers wanted to know. But that was the least of their concerns. It was this unseen enemy, at least who or whatever it was seemed to be an enemy.

"Don't know. They're hobbled so whatever's out there ain't gonna steal 'em, if that's their game." Dutch said in low tones. "Isner, keep watch behind us."

Garret Isner was not happy with this turn of events. Not in the least. He knew how an arrow sounded when it went by, and that had been an arrow. So Indians was his guess, it wasn't Lost Lake men, they would have just opened fire and been done with it, which brought to mind why didn't the Lost Lake riders appear to know anything about the tunnel, or whatever these Indians turned out to be?

And why would these Indians, if that's what they were, have not attacked the ranch? How did they survive? That seemed easy enough, hunting in the surrounding mountains, there would be a plethora of game available to them. None of it made any sense to him, people living like it seemed these beings lived, that was just too odd to be believable.

Childers was tough as they come, but at the moment he was afraid. Scared of something he could not see, nor identify, and might have to fight. Not a situation he liked. He had fought men with fists, knives, guns, and anything that came to hand, but he could see them plain as day, not this.

There was a sudden rush of feet on the hard-packed dirt floor of the tunnel.