Rescue
Rath's headhung low. Sleep was trying to claim him. Sleep to him means death.
Suddenly the horse collapsed. White form covered the animal's skin. Its tongue hung out form its mouth.
Rath pulled his leg out from under the dying animal. Unwrapping the rope from the saddle horn, Rath crawled closer. Swallow breathing came from this wonderful animal.
"Heart finally gave out," remarked Rath.
Removing the shooter from the right hostler checked the chamber. No bullet. Rehostlered it.
Removed the left, again checked the chamber.
"They did leave a bullet," he chuckled.
Putting it in his right hand, "Sorry," aiming, "Already saved one," pulling the trigger, "Again I live in hell," draping himself over the horse.
Turning himself around, his slightly opened eyelids allowed the sun to glared into his eyes.
"He's alive," was barley heard by Rath.
A face blocked out the sun. The rope was wrapped from his throat. The face was coming in clearer.
"Arthur," he whispered, "Joining me in hell."
"How much ammo did you have left?" asked Arthur.
"One bullet for the horse."
"Shooting the horse saved you. Would've missed you if it wasn't for the sound of the shot."