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I count 28 of them. 11 adult males, 8 females, 9 children aged 2 - 10. Some rifles and pistols in bad repair. Old world clothes, ratty.
Got close enough last night to hear them talk. Spanish, I think. From Mexico?
Heard them say "paradeeso" a bunch. Think that means paradise. Here to stay, then.
Seem harmless. SEEM.
The one I call "Maria" is pregnant. Think the father is "Jose" but she spends a lot of time with "Pablo" too.
"Pedro" ran out to pee in the stream and would've seen me if he looked to his left. Too close. Need to give them space.
"Jose" broke his leg chasing a bighorn. Too far from camp for them to hear. Told myself to leave it be but couldn't. 300 yards from their camp did my best Jose screaming imitation until a bunch of them came looking, then strung them along to the crest where they could hear the real Jose.
Probably useless. Compound fracture, broke the skin.
"Infec-shee-own." So many goddamn words nearly the same, think I'd be fluent. But anyway Jose's leg has got it so he's going to die. Nature for you. Of course they're giving prayer a try.
Left bottle of antibiotics on a rock outside their camp last night. They thanked God (Dee-os) of course. As though that asshole saw fit to burn the world but still cared enough to leave some medicine on a rock.
Jose will always limp but otherwise he'll be okay. Good deed for the month.
Will they make it through the winter?