Manuel led them west toward two peaks that matched in height and shape. Both grew from full, round bases, and tapered to smooth peaks. Kincaid took to thinking of women and breasts, and his longing for Maria grew. Three days remained on the long trip, and then he’d be with her again.
Manuel must have seen him staring at the twin mountains. “Do you know what they are called?” he asked. “Wah-Tow-Yah, means Breasts of the World.”
Kincaid rode in silence gazing at the two mountains. He wondered about the countless men, Spanish, Mexican, and Indian who had traveled this way and longed for a woman left at home. Of men who saw the peaks and thoughts flooded their minds and feelings surged through their bodies. These men who counted the days and hurried their mounts along. Now he was one of them, returning from danger and missing his woman.
As they rode farther, Kincaid caught site of the woodland at the end of the valley. A lush, deep canopy of trees, almost black in the fading light.
Manuel leaned over. "You see that copse? They call that Yow-Zah, The Valley’s Crotch."
Kincaid shifted uncomfortably in his saddle as he thought about what awaited him back home.
In time, they emerged from the trees, past the great rock Up-Frit, The Waiting Virgin. Kincaid had barely noticed the climb, or how the temperature had fallen, but now he looked out over a vast blanket of snow, as far as his eyes could see. He glanced over at Manuel.
"They call this plain Shah-Tmai-Wadh," Manuel said. "It means--"
"I know what it means."
Manuel saw Kincaid's frustration. "We can avoid it by going through the--"
"Forget it," Kincaid told him. "It's too late now."
Opening: Wes.....Continuation: Anon.