The wild horses advanced rapidly for a time, but when they saw that the
brother to which curiosity had attracted them was apparently of an
eccentric build they suddenly paused and scattered. Roldan raised the
bridle and dashed in pursuit; but the others were unincumbered, fleet of
foot and terrified. They fled like the wind.
"Drop off!" commanded Roldan, reining in. "Quick! I WILL have one."
Adan slid to the ground and the mustang sprang lightly forward. Roldan
had singled out a well-built black, a little heavier than his mates and
consequently somewhat in their rear. The mustang, who had slept off his
fatigue, had no need of spur; he seemed to enter into the spirit of the
chase--possibly realised that if the chase failed he might have a double
load to carry. He dashed over the rough adobe plain, Roldan holding the
bridle high in his left hand, the coiled lasso in his right. Adan
waddled after, far in the rear. The other horses had fled to the four
winds, but the pursued, occasionally ducking his head and kicking up his
hind legs as if in contempt of the pretensions of mere man, made
straight for the hills. Being undisciplined, however, he got over the
ground clumsily, stumbled once or twice in the wide cracks of the adobe
soil, and finally stopped short for want of wind.
Pages:
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57