48 Hours a Day

Until today, Zhang Heng had only two horseback riding experiences, and when he was a kid, the type of children's pony riding in the park, was held by a special person and ran around the slap-sized field for a few rounds at about ten steps an hour.

In other words, this was actually his first real choice of horse to be used as a vehicle, although he also preferred the kind of riding a horse, from a safety perspective, Zhang Heng decided to start with the primary difficulty, step by step.

So he finally picked the shortest, leanest, slightly hairless brown horse, which looked relatively smooth compared to its companions, and Zhang Heng didn't resist so much when he approached it. Zhang Heng walked to its side while he was eating grass with his head down.

Trying to touch its back, the hairy brown horse sneezed, twisted his body twice, saw Zhang Heng didn't mean to leave, it didn't move more intensely, continued to bury his head and eat grass.

Just you.

Zhang Heng made a decision in his heart. He is not unaware that this horse has no other horse, but the better things also have to meet the right owner to make a difference. For Zhang Heng, no other horse is more suitable for him at this time than this character Buddhist horse.

Not running fast also has the advantage of not running fast, at least he has a much smaller risk of falling off a horse.

Once you have chosen your ride, Zhang Heng releases the other horses, saving them from being roasted with the bar.

Zhang Heng was not in a hurry to get on the road. Instead, he rode his new horse and snuck around the town for two laps to relive the feeling of riding.

He remembered a little of what he learned in the park.

For example, don't drag your foot too far in the stables in case the horse drags you away as a rag when you fall, but Zhang Heng has forgotten, and he can't remember sitting on the horse, but he remembers a little bit of starting and slowing down, turning to him for a while, and can barely do it, just not very skilled.

There was no way, after all, he was just a novice by himself, actually because he had done much better than the vast majority of beginners with an excellent sense of balance and control over the body.

After practicing again, Zhang Heng thought he should be able to get on the road, put on a felt hat and pull the reins towards Lincoln County.

On the vague Gobi, a double-gunned cowboy knight, riding his horse in the Mercedes-Benz sun, this is quite a western picture.

Of course, it depends on how you define Mercedes-Benz, which is actually only a little faster than walking.

However, Zhang Heng can't complain too much without walking on his own. He doesn't dare to let the horse really run away. The first is for his own safety, and the second is to prevent him from reaching his destination. The horse who doesn't seem to be able to make it first split himself. In that case, Zhang Heng can only walk.

One man and one horse embarked on the journey.

When the sun rose to its highest position in the sky, Zhang Heng found a slightly cooler place to get off the horse and replenish some moisture and food. By the way, it was probably five days later to reach Lincoln County at his current speed. There was nothing wrong with food, but if you count the horse's share of water, it would only last about three days. Of course, you can't die without drinking water for a day or two, but Zhang Heng has no habit of self-abuse.

According to Richie, who was already dead, there were other towns between the mining town and Lincoln County, but a little detour was needed, and if the detour was counted, it would probably be seven days before he arrived in Lincoln County.

Good thing Zhang Heng is not short of time right now.

After lunch, Zhang Heng and his horse went back on the road. This time they walked for five hours.

The view of Gobi has its own kind of cool and magnificent, but there is also a sense of monotony over time.

Also after sitting on the horse for such a long time, Zhang Heng's muscles began to feel sore, and under the friction of the saddle, his thighs were also a little uncomfortable, which was only his first day.

It is said that cowboys sometimes travel for months to catch cattle before the railway is built, not only to look after thousands of cattle, to guard against wolves and snakes, but sometimes to face ambushes by Indian tribes, even after the railway network has been initially built, selling live cattle still requires cowboys to drive far away.

So people who can do this are real warriors, and no wonder cowboy culture has been popular in the United States for so many years.

Zhang Heng's single-plane western tour was interrupted the following night when he had just started a fire and finished cooking, drank the corn paste he had cooked, and then heard horseshoes.

Zhang Heng pulled out the [filter lens] on his body. When the visitor entered the effective range of the [filter lens], he saw the other person's face. That was a middle-aged man with a moustache. He looked like he had been running in the desert for some time. He had a dirty face, but did not hide his handsome face.

However, Zhang Heng first noticed the badge on his left chest, but this badge did not relax him.

This is a wild west with an impossible name, no one can really rely on it except their guns, even a lot of people like magistrates or bailiffs are evil people, and even the bad guys eat black and white.

Such people are even more dangerous than real bandits.

Zhang Heng did not speak and pulled a Colt revolver directly from the waist.

The other party reacted quickly and took out the gun unconsciously.

However, the distance between the two is about 250 meters, and it's dark again. In addition to the [filter lens], he can't be Zhang Heng's opponent.

Zhang Heng even had time to wait for him to pull out the gun before pulling the trigger. Given the identity of the other party, the gun was only a warning. The bullet accurately hit the mustache's gun and let his weapon fly out.

“Oh, relax, my friend. I'm a law enforcement officer, no offense.” The moustache grabbed the reins and stopped the horse. He accidentally revealed this equestrian technique, but Zhang Heng was very envious.

“Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Magistrate?” Zhang Heng did not react, calmly said, and did not retract the gun in his hand.

Mr. Bailiff across the street obviously understands Zhang Heng's vigilance, just as he would have pulled a gun before choosing to communicate. In this rare wilderness, no matter how careful he may be.

He raised his hands, indicating that he had no evil intentions. He brought the horse a little closer to the campfire. Finally, he was able to roughly distinguish Zhang Heng's appearance. He stunned, “Are you Indian? ”