Nathanial Barrington rocked back and forth in the saddle as he approached the crest of the hill. He'd seen massacres, mutilations, and rapes, but what he saw went beyond that: The wagons had been burned to the ground and cadavers were everywhere. Nathanial's practiced eyes could surmise where the Apaches had hidden, waiting for the miners. Getting closer, he could see tattered dresses of womenthey'd died alongside the men, probably firing rifles. Yes, Apaches are beautiful pastoral nomads and root gatherers, he told himself, but they're also brutal murderers. Nathanial Barrington had crossed the border into Apache bloodlust ...
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