The leader of them approached the black horseman and it became visible in the moonlight that he was wearing an axe. For clothes the man had a kind of ...ack on which was held togerther with a rope in the middle. His head was covered by a head sock. Without doubt this were footpads craving for his life. ‘What’s your name? Speak!’, barked the leader. ‘A-shi-mu-ka’, answered the black horseman. ‘An foreigner… Maybe we should spare you, so you can teach us your language.’ The head sock guy laughed. The memory he had in his head of the area told him they had a couple of miles to cover, perhaps a little more, before they would get to where they could hope to run into Mud Hollow Road. In the meantime, he only hoped the terrain was as promising as his memory suggested.The Broken Wheel Inn was not the kind of place one would remark on, good or bad, after staying there. Its beds were clean, its staff efficient, its food adequate. Multnomah Falls behind it was something of an attraction, and. More

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