The crosshairs of a 4x scope followed the man as he walked. He
was unaware, his concentration fixed on the 1:24,000
topographical map in his left hand and the opened lensatic
compass in his right.
He wore an aluminum-frame backpack, tent roll above and
sleeping-bag roll beneath the green nylon bag; his binoculars
were secured to one shoulder strap. He was unarmed.
He had followed the fenceline, unpeeled cedar posts and
four-strand barbed wire, through a ponderosa forest and now
into an upland meadow; the fence continued up a rocky slope
past an abandoned mineshaft to end at a sheer dropoff where
not even mountain goats ventured.
In the meadow, at an altitude of something over eight
thousand feet, aspens had turned to gold; here and there a
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