Cowboy Showdown

“Where do we get one of those?” said Zuma.

Tom frowned and thought back to his adventures with Isis. She’d had a scarab ring that had given them help in the form of riddles …

Tom looked Zuma up and down. His eyes stopped on her necklace. “Your pendant!”

Zuma touched the black disc. “The high priest made me wear it for the sacrifice because black mirrors are good for communicating with spirits and predicting the future.”

“Perfect!” cried Tom. “Ask it for help.”

Zuma held the pendant with both hands. “Er … what should I say?”

“Well, you can always be like Snow White and start with, ‘Mirror, Mirror …’” Tom burst out laughing when he saw the strange look Zuma was giving him. “Oh, right. I guess you didn’t have fairy tales in Aztec times.” Tom quickly explained how Snow White had summoned the voice of her magic mirror.

“OK, here goes,” said Zuma.

“Mirror, Mirror, on a chain,

Can you help us? Please explain!

We are lost and must be told

How to find the coins of gold.”

Tom smiled. “Nice.”

The next instant, silvery sparks appeared on the smooth surface of the mirror, followed by words rising up from the dark stone:

In a town that has no law,

The hero must always be first to draw;

Where rivers and coaches rush with gold

Fortunes are won but souls can be sold.

The sharpest of shooters you’ll meet on this trip;

One is a marshal who’s smart as a whip.

The West can be wild, it’s not for the meek,

So be brave in the cave when you roll out of Spring Creek!

“Now I know where we are,” cried Tom. “We’ve landed in the Wild West.”

“Hmm,” said Zuma, looking worried. “Exactly how wild is it?”

“I’m not sure,” Tom admitted. “All I know is that in the late 1800s, gold was discovered in America’s West. Thousands of people hurried there to try and get rich. That’s why they called it the Gold Rush—”

“Babbling!” Zuma cupped her hand to her ear. “I hear babbling.”

Tom looked hurt. “Well you did ask …”

“No,” said Zuma, patting his shoulder. “I didn’t mean you were babbling. I meant I hear running water.”

“Let’s follow it,” said Tom, feeling hopeful. “Maybe it will lead us to a river that rushes with gold, like the riddle says.”

With Chilli trotting along beside them, Tom and Zuma found their way to a creek. Then they followed its winding bank through the trees and scrub.

The further they walked, the more the woods thinned. Soon they arrived at the edge of a clearing, where the creek broadened into a wide pool. Standing knee-deep in the rippling water were two boys. The taller one looked like he was in his late teens while the smaller boy was only a bit older than Tom and Zuma.