FLAME IN THE DESERT

As Jordan wheeled and soared over his ranch, enjoying the feel of the helicopter and the solitude of the open sky, he kept an eye out for his lost herd of cattle.  Jordan didn’t usually worry about the cattle straying as the green grass and clear, sweet springs of Eagle’s View kept them close to home.  Noticing the heavy weather coming in swiftly from he North, he made a sharp turn and decided the cattle could wait; he had better head for the ranch before the storm broke.  What was the saying?  “There are lots of old pilots and lots of bold pilots, but there are no old, bold pilots!“  He laughed at himself for the old familiar phase had indeed saved his life many times when he had been tempted to fly under less than ideal conditions.

Watching the scenery unfolding below him, secure and happy in the knowledge that it all belonged to him, Jordan’s eyes were caught by a bright flash of color on the steep rocky trail just below him.

“If I have a gold panner or a poacher camping out on my land I’ll just stop by here and give him a quick lift out,” He growled out loud.  The four cowhands and the Chinese cook/housekeeper who shared his domain were all Jordan cared to have around or know the existence of his ranch.  Outsiders were severely discouraged.  The one trail that led into the hills surrounding his hidden valley was barred with a high, iron gate and a fence that seemed to stretch for miles.  It actually ended in a mountain on one end and a deep impassible gorge on the other. 

As he lost altitude the bright spot became clearer and he realized it was either someone sleeping - or in big trouble!