Nathan noticed green.

A few leaves.

Then another tree.

Cottonwoods.

He stopped.

His heart began pounding.

"Water."

Everyone looked at him.

Nathan pointed forward.

"There's water."

They moved faster.

Around the final bend, the sound reached them.

A soft rushing.

Then louder.

Then unmistakable.

Water.

A crystal-clear spring flowed between smooth stones beneath a canopy of ancient cottonwoods.

For several seconds, nobody moved.

Then the children ran.

They laughed.

They cried.

They fell to their knees and plunged their hands into the cold water.

Mothers filled waterskins.

Warriors led horses toward the pool.

Elders prayed.

Chief Taza stood motionless.

Nathan watched him.

The old chief finally turned.

His eyes were wet.

"You brought us back from death."

Nathan smiled.

"No."

He looked at the spring.

"Your people did that."

That evening, they ate beside the water.

For the first time in days, nobody was afraid of the next sunrise.

But Nathan knew the story was not finished.

The outlaws were still somewhere beyond Black Mesa.

And soon, they would discover that the people they had been hunting had escaped.

The Apache camp remained beside the spring for several days.

The weakest travelers needed time to recover.

Children who had been too exhausted to speak were running through the trees again. Horses drank until their bodies seemed stronger. Women washed dusty clothing in the cold water. Hunters returned with game.

Nathan finally allowed himself to rest.

He repaired his saddle beneath a cottonwood tree.

Chief Taza sat nearby.

For hours, the two men spoke.

Their languages were different.

Their histories were different.

Their cultures were different.

Yet they discovered they had more in common than either expected.

Both had buried fathers.

Both understood the loneliness of the frontier.

Both had watched men die because of pride.

Both believed that a leader carried responsibility for those who trusted him.

Chief Taza eventually asked Nathan why he had helped them.

Nathan looked at the water.

"My father taught me something."

"What?"

"Never ride past someone who needs help."

Chief Taza smiled.

"Your father was a wise man."

Nathan nodded.

"He was."

Then the chief gave Nathan a warning.

"Not all men are like your father."

Nathan's expression became serious.

"I know."

Chief Taza looked toward the mountains.

"There are men who see weakness and think only of profit."

Nathan knew exactly what he meant.

The outlaws.

They had probably been watching the region for weeks.

A hidden spring was valuable.

Anyone controlling it could demand money from desperate travelers.

The following morning, Nathan decided to investigate.

Three Apache warriors volunteered to accompany him.

Koda was one of them.

They climbed toward the ridge overlooking the main trail.

From above, they could see the abandoned camp.

The outlaws were gone.

But evidence remained.

Broken bottles.

Horse tracks.

A rifle cartridge.

Nathan crouched.

"They know someone came through here."

Koda pointed toward the canyon.

More tracks.

Nathan followed them.

The outlaws had moved toward the spring.

Nathan's heart dropped.

They might discover the Apache camp.

He immediately returned.

Chief Taza listened carefully.

"We should leave."

Nathan nodded.

"The spring saved you. But if those men find it, they'll come back."

The chief looked at his people.

They had traveled too far to remain exposed.

Nathan proposed moving the camp deeper into the canyon where the water source could not easily be seen.

They spent the entire day preparing.

Brush was arranged to hide the trail.

Fire pits were moved.

Tracks were covered.

Children were taught to remain quiet when strangers approached.

The warriors established watch positions.

For the first time, Nathan realized the tribe was not simply surviving.

They were defending a home.

That night, something moved beyond the trees.

A twig snapped.

Nathan immediately opened his eyes.

The camp was silent.

He reached for his rifle.

Koda appeared beside him.

He pointed toward the darkness.

Two shadows.

Then three.

Nathan waited.

A fourth figure stepped into the moonlight.

An outlaw.

Nathan could see a rifle in his hands.

The man looked toward the spring.

Then he smiled.

Nathan whispered to Koda.

"Don't shoot unless they fire."

Koda nodded.

The outlaw took another step.

Then another.

Suddenly, an Apache arrow struck the ground inches from his boot.

The outlaw froze.

A second arrow struck a tree beside him.

He turned and ran.

His companions followed.

Nathan and the warriors did not pursue.

They didn't need to.

The message had been delivered.

This spring belonged to those who had found it.

At sunrise, Chief Taza ordered the camp moved farther into the canyon.

Nathan helped organize the supplies.

Then something unexpected happened.

One of the younger warriors approached him.