The narrow gully bakes like an oven in the fall sun, and the canyon that engulfs it is silent, save for an occasional magpie's cry. Under a juniper, two cowboys hunch for shade and wait for a signal.
The faint whine of a helicopter peals from the north. The two-way radio crackles to life: "We're two miles out, coming in with seven horses." That sends Tracy Robison, 16, leaping onto a sorrel mount. He wedges the horse behind a mound of sagebrush and keeps as still as he can. Gil Crawford, 58, dives for cover...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
