There was no shield nor even a shadow. They plodded along wearily, slumping in their saddles, drained of energy by the fierce heat. When they lifted their heads to look about, even their eyeballs moved sluggishly, the movements of their hands felt awkward.
Dan Rodelo pulled up and slid from the saddle . By all means, he must save the grulla. The mouse-colored mustang might be all that he had between himself and death, and they would need each other.