Homer watched his adversary leisurely saunter away on the opposite bank of the river. The water was roaring inside the stream, but he almost could hear the man cackle.

“Well, get us across the river.” Homer said, turning to his hired man.

“No. It’s too deep.” Humberto said.

“What? Won’t these beasts swim?” he asked.

“The horse may try, senor, but the burro? The burro will not.”

“God damn you! How will we catch him? What am I paying you for?”

“The river is too high, because of the snow melting in the mountains. We can go downstream along the bank, maybe six days ride, and cross another bridge. Or, we can ride the other way, and go back to the ferry.”

“It took us a week to get down this far from the ferry!”

“Yes, he’s very clever to trap us here.”

“Clever? You’re the man-hunter! How could you be tricked so easily?”

“Too much Maria, I think.” Humberto said while taking a long drag from his odd smelling cigarette. Homer squinted at the Mexican and clenched his jaw while his horse fidgeted beneath him.