‘Just a hint. See how it looks in the morning. You may have to ride on a halter for a day or two.’

Paddy grimaced. With a halter a rider had only a fraction of the control of a bridle. But he would do what was necessary to prevent further injury to his horse.

‘You and I have last watch tonight, Pad,’ Toby said over his shoulder as he moved away. ‘Eat something and get your head down – and don’t forget to un-prime your musket before you curl up in your blankets with it.’

Paddy nodded to show he understood. He let go of the horse’s mouth and moved to where his musket sat in its scabbard, the hammer uncocked and resting on the percussion cap. He yawned as he pulled the weapon from the scabbard. In his tiredness he forgot that his right hand was still covered in saliva from the horse’s mouth. He curled his wet thumb over the hammer and pulled it back. The hammer had almost reached the half-cocked position when his thumb lost its grip. The musket discharged in a brilliant muzzle flash that lit the campsite. Luckily for Paddy, he had the weapon pointed at the ground, but he felt the bottoms of his legs blasted with dirt as the ball struck somewhere under Patch’s belly. The horse reared in protest and Paddy only just caught the lead rope in time to prevent him bolting away into the darkness.

Men swore and whirled about as they looked for the direction of this unseen attack. McTavish drew his pistol and dropped into cover behind some rocks. Gatwick struggled to pull his carbine from its scabbard, dancing in a circle with his panicking horse, while Sloan and Barraworn had their weapons up and pointing uncertainly into the darkness.

‘Are we under attack?’ McTavish carefully lifted his head.

Toby noticed the smoking musket in Paddy’s hand as his brother fought to calm the frightened horse. ‘It’s all right. There’s no attack. Paddy’s musket went off.’

‘Bloody hell,’ Gatwick roared. ‘You frightened two years off my life, young fella.’

Out in the valley, echoes boomed off cliffs like a peal of distant thunder. The sound rolled on and on for miles until it dissipated into the darkness. McTavish got to his feet and uncocked his pistol. ‘That was unfortunate. If Anderson didn’t know we were after him, he does now.’

Paddy finally got Patch under control and stroked the animal’s neck. He kept his eyes steadfastly on the horse, for he had no desire to see the anger in Toby’s eyes.

Before the confusion of echoes muddled any chance of singling out the original sound, Anderson realised the gunshot had come from the escarpment above him. He was halfway down the spur with the river only a few miles away. Tomorrow he would reach it and follow it back into the settled districts. But, with the dying echoes still rumbling down the valley, his mind worked in other directions.