Publisher's Synopsis
Adam Larey gazed with hard and wondering eyes down the silent current of the red river upon which he meant to drift away into the desert.
The Rio Colorado was no river to trust. It chafed at its banks as if to engulf them; muddy and thick it swirled and glided along in flood, sweeping in curves back and forth from Arizona to California shore. Majestic and gleaming under the hot sky, it swung southward between wide green borders of willow and cottonwood toward a stark and naked upflung wilderness of mountain peaks, the red ramparts of the unknown and trackless desert. Adam rushed down the bank and threw his pack into a boat. There his rapid action seemed checked by the same violence that had inspired his haste. He looked back, up at the dusty adobe town of Ehrenberg, asleep now under the glaring noonday heat. It would not wake out of that siesta till the return of the weary gold diggers, or the arrival of the stagecoach or the steamer. A tall Indian, swarthy and unkempt, stood motionless in the shade of a wall, watching stolidly. Adam broke down then. Sobs made his utterance incoherent. "Guerd is no brother-of mine-any more!" he burst out. His accent was one of humiliation and cheated love. "And as for-for her-I'll never-never think of her-again." - Taken from "Wanderer of the Wasteland" written by Zane Grey
