The prairie chicken gods snickered. We sat for a while, cloaked in fatigue, then plodded up a hill to see where we were. I'm turned around. The car is back there. He pointed to the horizon.
Some people think there is no such thing as justifiable homicide, but there is.
I was just too weary to lift the gun. The second morning was warm and humid. Getting out of bed was like having my fingernails pulled, all over my body. The dogs were bleary-eyed and gimpy. The buffalo once grazed the prairie enough that prairie chickens could see what was going on.