This chapter basically summarizes how I've been playing the game for the last few weeks, essentially turning it into a hunting/exploration game instead of playing any of the story.

Chapter updated July 12th to include a line about Arthur finding the Poisonous Trail Treasure map.

Chapter 8: Hunting

Arthur pushed Merlin to a gallop towards Valentine, Dakota running behind, praying no one was following him. He took one of the winding dirt tracks down to the river before turning west, crossing back and forth across the water and riding in the calm, shallow parts until he was certain he had left the world's most confusing trail. Only then did he slow down, giving the tired stallion a break near Cumberland Falls.

Shit. What was he even doing?

Arthur had no clue where he wanted to go, he had just been filled with the unquestionable desire to leave, get away, get to safety, and the feeling was still there now. But he needed a place to go, somewhere no one would think to look for him. Near Wallace Station, he suddenly realized he could probably go to Strawberry.

As far as he was aware, no one had recognized him when he broke Micah out of jail, and a quick check on the Wallace Station bounty board confirmed it. Besides, he was pretty sure Micah killed all the lawmen. So he set off, figuring he could do some hunting and explore Big Valley while he figured out what exactly he was going to do now.

Because really, what should he do? For twenty years, Arthur rode with Dutch and Hosea, always loyal, never doubting. When John ran off, Arthur had labeled him a coward and treated him like shit when he came back. Now he had to decide for himself if he was going to disappear for a few weeks, just to teach Dutch a lesson, or forever. And Arthur was stuck without a plan.

Then he heard a voice in his head that sounded like Hosea. One step at a time.

A long time ago, when Dutch, Hosea, and Arthur failed at robbing a stagecoach that turned out to have more guards than any of them anticipated, Hosea and Arthur ended up separated from Dutch in the mountains on foot. Arthur had a sprained ankle and Hosea was bleeding from a bullet graze on his arm, but Arthur spent most of the time panicked about Dutch. Last they had seen, their leader was being closed around on either side by lawmen, but they were unable to help. But Hosea pulled Arthur into a hug, let all of Arthur's fears pour out in rushed words, then said, "One step at a time, kid. We gotta take care of ourselves first. Then we can figure out what happened to Dutch." Later, once Arthur was safe back at camp, Hosea was able to pull his famous "Get out of Jail Free" trick when he tracked down Dutch at the local jail, which boiled down to getting the sheriff black out drunk.

Right now, the first thing Arthur needed to do was to lay low. Let his hands heal, since he couldn't exactly hold a gun well with them wrapped up in bandages. He dropped Merlin and Dakota off at the Strawberry Stable, pushing a few extra dollars into the stable owner's hands to give them the extra care package, and walked to the Welcome Center for a room. After months of running and sleeping on a cot, it felt nice to relax into a real bed for a change, and Arthur was asleep within minutes.

The first day, Arthur explored the town he once helped decimate. There really wasn't much. Just a few houses, a general store (one that didn't even sell alcohol), a doctor that didn't seem to be around, and the jail. On day two, he met a New Yorker who claimed to be lost in the woods even though he was already on the road that would have led him back to the town, and robbed a crazy man for a treasure map. Honestly, he had to be crazy if he couldn't recognize a sketch of Cumberland Falls while staring straight at the real thing! On the third day, Arthur, getting restless, went looking for the trapper, who sometimes set up his stall near Riggs Station. Fortunately, he was there, and Arthur was finally able to pick up the coat he asked to be made out of that bastard of a bear he hunted with Hosea. By the time the morning of day four rolled around, Arthur was ready to get out of Strawberry.

Dumping the papers from his satchel on the bed, Arthur scanned his various maps and papers for a suggestion on where to go. He didn't want to aimlessly wander to country without purpose. The photographs from that author, Theodore Levin, stood out. One of the old gunslingers, Flaco Hernandez, was supposedly hiding up near Colter. If there was anywhere the gang wouldn't track him, it was back into the snowy mountains. And he could swing by Cumberland Falls on the way! He unwrapped his hands to check the scrapes and flexed his fingers, confident that they would be fine.

So, Arthur donned his new coat and mounted Merlin, Dakota following dutifully behind. The treasure behind Cumberland Falls turned out to be another map, with features Arthur didn't recognize. Until, of course, riding up near Barrow Lake to get to Colter, he saw the fallen tree creating a bridge to an island in the middle of a frozen lake. Unfortunately, this only gave him some cash and a third map with a location he didn't quite recognize, but the building looked almost like a fort, so he figured he could check near Fort Wallace.

In the meantime, he guided Merlin north to a small cabin that housed Hernandez. "Hey! Who's that? You in the wrong camp, stranger," Arthur heard from a guard, muffled from the layers of scarves wrapped around his face.

Arthur stood his ground. "You don't want to die for Hernandez, do you? Take me to him, I got some questions to ask."

"Okay, if it's just questions. He's up in the cabin. Don't shoot this fool! He's having words with the boss." The other guards, who had been hiding behind the trees and crates, didn't lower their guns, but allowed him to pass by.

Arthur walked up to the cabin. "Flaco Hernandez!" he called out. "I don't want any trouble. I'm here to speak with you about Boy Calloway."

Hernandez walked out and spat in the snow, wearing a wide, gray sombrero with a red rim. His large fur coat was criss crossed with two bandoleers and a gold engraved gun belt. "I just want to talk about Boy Calloway," Arthur said again, keeping his hands raised to his chest.

"Sure, here's your message," Hernandez said, hand moving to his holster. Ah, so that was how this conversation was going to go. Arthur drew fast, just as Hernandez did the same. The Del Lobo leader tried to throw Arthur's aim by jumping to the side, but he was too slow! Arthur put a bullet in his chest, and behind him he heard the other gang members scatter.

"Well, I'm off to a great start," Arthur said to himself, pulling out the small portable camera. He took a photo of Hernandez's slack face, hoping that would be enough for the author, and picked up the dead man's gun. It was a rather nice piece. He took a picture of that too, to make up for the fact that he wasn't bringing back a quote, and decided to keep the gun. He then looted the cabin, finding some money and, surprisingly enough, another treasure map! This one had a drawing of a rock that looked like a face, something Arthur didn't recognize from his previous travels around the Heartlands. Still, he could keep an eye out.

On the way back down, Arthur went to Lake Isabella. Hosea's map included rumor of an albino bison hiding out in the snow. He had meant to invite Charles, but would he ever get the chance? He reached the shore, looking for clues, when he saw something white moving out of the corner of his eye. It was too small to be a bison. It was… a horse?

The binoculars were out of his satchel and up to his face in an instant. The white mare was tiny, thin. Her ribs stuck out against her skin. She weakly struck her hooves against the ice of the lake, trying to break through to get a drink. Arthur looked at the concave face, and he suddenly realized she was an Arabian! Probably some rich man's horse, possibly having gotten lost in a storm or stuck alone if the owner died. Arthur approached slow, not wanting to leave the poor animal to starve to death. She stared at him warily, but didn't run when he approached, which confirmed his theory that she once had an owner. "Here girl!" he said slow and soothing, and held out a clump of hay. She stumbled towards him and stretched her neck to snatch the hay from his hands and retreat, but soon got tempted by the carrot he pulled out next. This time she got close enough for him to pat, and slowly she relaxed enough for him to slip a halter over her head. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you out of the snow."

She followed along as Arthur led her back to the other horses. Dakota and the Arabian touched noses. They had to move slow, since the tired horse struggled through the snow, but just as the sun was going down, they got to Cattail Pond, and Arthur made camp.

His days continued like that, heading east along the Grizzlies. He successfully tracked and killed a bighorn ram and a wolf from Hosea's map. He was able to find three gold bars near Fort Wallace, though he almost missed a jump and ended up dead at the bottom of the canyon. After that, Arthur swore to stay away from all cliffs forever.

Eventually, Arthur looked up one morning and laughed. He was near the weird cabin and cauldron that seemed to start this series of events. He left the horses at the road and checked. Sure enough, just like when he went back after drinking and passing out, the raven and liquid were gone. He was alone, without answers, without guidance.

But a little further down the road, he found it. An old fort, or watchtower, or hunting lodge… he wasn't quite sure. It was called the Loft, according to one of the papers he found inside. The first floor was equipped with a furnace, bed, and cabinets. A ladder went to a open landing, a roof keeping out the rain and open on all sides, giving Arthur a view as far as O'Creagh's Run. He breathed deep, bringing in the smell of grass and wildflowers. Merlin, Dakota, and the Arabian settled in down below. This felt like where he belonged, high up in the mountains with his horses, no one the disturb him or drag him away.

And so Arthur stayed. He hunted in the area around the cabin, and sold the pelts at the trapper just over the border in New Hanover. He cashed in the gold bars he found with Seamus, the man taken aback by the amount but still somehow able to produce the cash. There was only one flaw in his new home. There was a gap in the logs midway between the first floor and the landing that was open, probably meant for a window at one point or another, that Arthur only noticed during the first rain. He ended up setting up his tent over the bed to keep the mattress dry! The old cabin creaked and groaned in the wind, and Arthur was afraid the whole structure could blow away! Outside, Dakota and Merlin huddled around the small white mare, keeping her warm and safe throughout the storm. Perhaps he could go to Annesburg with the measurements for that opening. It seemed to be a perfect rectangle, and it couldn't be that hard to install a window! Maybe he could build a small barn for the horses in the field.

Wait, what was he thinking? Was he really planning the stay there long term? Arthur had avoided that particular debate for over a week now. Had he truly left Dutch forever, or was this a temporary thing? He didn't know, couldn't know. Every time he tried to think on his future, his mind managed to come up with a distraction. A new plant he had never seen and needed to draw, a new bird to study. He finally found a perfect bear pelt to make a saddle, and dropped that with the trapper. His map told tale of an albino moose just over near Roanoke Ridge, and he considered going to check it out once the weather let up.

He wondered what it would be like, to stay up in the mountains forever, to be free of bounties and the law. Could he buy to cabin and the land around it? Was it for sale, or did someone already own it? He wondered which bank or town could answer his questions. The only other person he knew that lived in Ambarino was Mrs. Adler, and he couldn't exactly go back to camp and ask her. Plus, it wouldn't be fair to remind her of the life she had only recently lost. Really, he was closer to Annesburg than anywhere else, and even though the town was in New Hanover, maybe he could ask where to inquire about the land.

The next morning, as he was roasting some venison with oregano on a fire, he heard horses coming up the path. He tensed, his hand shifted to his holster on instinct, like a rattler preparing to strike. But the silver Turkoman and the Appaloosa that came around the corner were familiar, as were their riders.

"And here he is! Well done, Mr. Smith," Hosea said, hopping down and pulling a slightly stunned Arthur into a hug. "Good to see you again, son."

"How did you find me?"

"Wasn't too hard!" Hosea laughed. "Seamus was complaining about his lack of funds after exchanging cash for some gold bars. You've been holding out on us!"

"Hey now, I found those after I left."

"Don't worry, I'm just teasing. Anyway, you had him craft some trinkets from some odd animal parts. So we went to the trapper, asked if he had seen you and what you'd been bringing in, and he suspected you were up in the East Grizzlies. Didn't take too long to find you, with that pretty horse of yours. Though I see the herd has expanded somewhat."

Arthur looked over at his three horses. The Arabian leaned into Dakota, eying the new horses and men. Charles approached slow, whispering slow and gentle, an oatcake in his flat hand. The horse accepted it, relaxing under his hands. With a smile, Arthur turned back to Hosea.

"Yeah, found her up in the snow, not far from where we were hiding out. Poor thing was half starved. Not sure if I'll keep her, though. She's a bit small for me, and a little skittish. I haven't even tried to ride her yet."

"You might be surprised. Arabians are rather strong for their size. And Dutch has been riding The Count just fine for years!" Hosea meant it as encouragement, but the mention of Dutch put a dark cloud over the otherwise happy reunion. Arthur's face lost a bit of its brightness, and Hosea could tell. "I'm not here to drag you back," he said. "I just wanted to make sure you are alright."

Arthur nodded slowly. "Want to come in?" he asked, gesturing to the cabin. "I got coffee."

They walked in. Charles raised an eyebrow at the still damp floors, looking up at the hole in the siding. "Pretty big leak you got there," he said, and Arthur laughed, mood bright once again.

"There used to be window, I think. Not sure how long it's been since anyone lived here."

Hosea started up the ladder. "I want to see your view!" Soon, all three of them ended up sitting on the upper landing, sipping coffee out of mugs that Arthur had found laying around. The fields and flowers glowed gold in the morning sun, and Hosea regaled Charles with stories from growing up in the mountains. They both asked Arthur about what he had been doing since leaving camp, and Arthur showed them sketches of the animals he had tracked down. He also invited Charles to go looking for the albino bison at some point.

Finally, dying to know, Arthur asked, "So, how is the camp?"

"Not too good," Hosea said. "Tense. After you walked out, Dutch gathered everyone together and said you were just upset from the accident and needed some time to cool off. Of course by that point pretty much the whole camp knew what 'accident' Dutch was talking about. How much of a fool is he to forget that you two were standing on the edge of a cliff? Of course, when I told him that, he just shouted about how he's been under a lot of stress and has shut me out since."

"He know you're up here?" Arthur asked.

"No, he thinks Charles and I are scoping out a lead. Money has gotten a little tight. I thought Dutch was going to kick Strauss out when he mentioned that without your regular income we might not have enough for more supplies."

"Kicking out Strauss might not be the worst thing in the world. We shouldn't be lending to poor folks."

"No, but it isn't a good time right now. Strauss isn't exactly the type of man who I would trust to keep his mouth shut if he ever got picked up. Same with Mr. Bell, that's why I've been okay with keeping him around. I would only cut him loose if I could be sure he wouldn't track us down again. Of course lately, he's the only one Dutch seems to listen to!"

"What? Micah?"

"Yes," Hosea sighed. "The way he gets ideas into Dutch's head… I don't like it. But it got worse after a few days when you didn't come back. People started asking questions, and Dutch shut himself away even more. Everyone is nervous."

"You got any good news?" Arthur asked.

Charles piped in. "John was able to pull off the train robbery, with me, Sean, and Javier. Got quite a lot of money from those rich travelers, but it was weird. The law showed up pretty quick. I'm not sure if we were set up, or if the law was just lucky. We were able to get away, though. Sean almost got his head blown off, but that's not the story he's telling."

Hosea suddenly seemed unable to look Arthur in the eye, his hands tight around the mug. "What aren't you telling me?" Arthur asked.

Hosea fidgeted a bit with the mug and took a long gulp of coffee before saying, "Mr. Smith, do you mind if I talk with Arthur privately?"

"No problem," Charles said, going back down the ladder.

Once he was gone, Hosea said, "I got recognized near camp."

"What?"

"I took young Jack down to the river to do some fishing, as a favor to Abigail. Two men, Agent Ross and Agent Milton, found me. They offered to clear my bounty if I turned in Dutch. I thought we should move camp right away, but Dutch didn't seem to think it was a problem." Hosea shook his head.

"But you should go! If the train job is done-"

"Dutch still thinks there's money to be made in Valentine. I don't think its worth the risk to stay, but my opinion doesn't seem to matter much these days."

"I need go back. I can help protect them, you are still my family!"

"No, that's the last thing I want. Part of the reason I came up here was to warn you. Remember what I told you not long ago, that you should have a plan? You aren't the only one I've been saying that to. It may not have been under the best of circumstances, but it might be better that you are gone. Folks are scared to leave Dutch, but if someone who has been a member of the gang for twenty years can strike out on their own, it might inspire a few others to as well. But… well, there is one thing I might ask you to do."

"What is it?"

"I need you to talk to John."

"Why?"

"He's been rather angry, and upset, after you left. After he came back, you were always on him about being loyal to the gang. Now you've gone, too, and it hurt him, Arthur. You need to talk to him."

"Of course John wouldn't understand." Arthur stood up and leaned over the railing, looking over the mountains. "This is completely different. John ran away from his kid for a year!"

"I know that. And I think deep down he knows that, too. But talk to him, please? You two used to be so close, and to be honest, I've been hoping that John will take Abigail and that boy and get out of this life. But Dutch has been keeping him feeling guilty about leaving. Maybe you can help convince him to go." Hosea joined Arthur, and the two watched a flock of birds take off. "You know, I could see you living up here. Raising a couple horses."

"I never even thought about wanting it until now."

"I know." Hosea draped one arm over Arthur's shoulders in a half hug. "I'm going to drag John into Valentine in three days. Please be there?"

"Fine, I will."

"Good. Oh, I almost forgot!" said Hosea, diving into his bag. "I've got some mail for you. From someone named Albert Mason in Saint Denis. Didn't know you knew city folks."

"He's a wildlife photographer, met him a few times because he's been traveling all over. Thank you," Arthur said, tucking the letters into his own satchel for later. "You heading out?"

"Yeah, I figure I shouldn't be gone too long, or else Dutch will think I've abandoned him, too." It was meant as a joke, but it fell flat. Hosea met Charles outside, and the two mounted their horses.

Charles nodded at Arthur and said, "It was good to see you again."

"You might see me soon," Arthur said. "I still want to go after that bison with you."

"Goodbye, Arthur," Hosea said, turning Silver Dollar down the road. Arthur watched them go, until they rounded the corner and disappeared into the hills.

Three days until he saw John. Then, he would decide what he wanted to do.