‘Emigrant Pass. Half a million stories came through that gap in the mountains.’ She pulled on her cigarette, her lips pursed and lined like a puckered tobacco pouch. ‘And they was superstitious people back then. Many strongly religious types, devout types, you know? Like the Mormons, for example.’

Julian nodded.

‘You ever hear the saying “seeing the elephant”?’

‘Nope.’

‘It was a myth that grew up along the trail. All the hazards of that journey, the terrain, the weather, disease, crooks, Indians… it somehow all got rolled up into one frightening mythological beast — the elephant; the size of a mountaintop, or a storm front, or the size of a broken cart wheel. If you caught a glimpse of the elephant ahead of you in the distance it was meant to be an omen, an omen to turn back right away, and go no further. And you sure as hell did that and thanked God you saw the elephant from afar, and not up close.’

Julian looked out into the darkness. Rose instinctively panned the camera away from him in the direction he was looking — towards the tree line across the clearing. ‘Do you think we’ll see anything tonight?’ he asked.

Grace laughed — a loose rattling sound like a leather flap caught in a wind tunnel. ‘Maybe we’ll see that elephant, eh?’

Julian turned round to look at the park ranger, then turned to look directly at the camera, his mouth a rounded ‘O’, those brows quizzically arched and his eyes wide like a nervous child’s.

Rose giggled silently. Jules had the kind of comedian’s face the camera loved.

CHAPTER 2

Friday

Sierra Nevada Mountains, California

Julian was woken by his aching groin.

Oh great, I need a piss.

He realised that he was going to have to step outside the tent.

‘Bollocks,’ he whispered to himself. ‘Shit and bloody bollocks.’