The daily hike back to the lookout packing five gallons of water on my back had given me legs of iron and buns of steel. At five feet nine and maybe a...hundred and forty pounds I was no fashion model, but the only fat on me was right where it did the most good. Actually, that tanned and curvaceous bod was doing nobody any good, unless you counted the pikas. When I’d wander out into meadows to pick berries, clad only in my hiking boots, they’d stare lustfully at me and whistle. Lascivious little. ”They still had to walk another half mile to the selected part of the track where it became wide enough to march two abreast. They stopped and formed up. One or two had to adjust their moccasins to be more comfortable for the final march, then Bondola started his steady drum beat at the low sound level. John had asked him to start low, as if at a distance, then make the drumming louder, as if they were coming closer. He also began marching on the spot, to the beat of the drum.The guard of. More

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