Bred of the Desert: A Horse and a RomanceHorton, Charles M. (Charles Marcus)
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Bred of the Desert: A Horse and a Romance
Horton, Charles M. (Charles Marcus)
Adventure stories; Horses -- Fiction; Love stories; New Mexico -- Fiction
But it was a mistake. Quickly as it was done, he found himself almost as
quickly jerked up, swung viciously around, and his sides raked with
ruthless spurs. He gasped a moment under the smarting fire of the spurs,
then, as in the old days, reared in a towering rage. And this was a
mistake. Too late he found the man's weight overbalancing him. He
struggled to recover himself, plunged over backward, and down, striking
the earth heavily. Hurriedly he regained his feet, but not so the man,
not till the others sprang to his assistance. Then he realized what he
had done, realized it fully as he caught the venomous gleam in the man's
eyes and heard the storm of abuse volleying from his lips. Then, looking
at the man, and listening to his raging outburst, he conjured up out of
the dim past memories of the Mexican hostler and of that single
encounter in the white corral. And now his fear for the man left him.
"I'll kill him! I'll shoot the horse!" roared Johnson, his face yellow
underneath the tan. He reached toward his side-arms.
But he did not shoot. With his face white and drawn Jim strode to Pat's
head, while Glover, quick to understand, played the solicitous
attendant, assisting the limping Johnson into the saddle. And that
closed the incident. Presently all were riding along again, with
Johnson, wincing under internal distress, holding his reins more loosely
than before.
But it was not without its good. As on that other occasion in the
corral, Pat had learned something. He had measured a man, and he knew,
and knew that the man knew, that he had come off victor. But it gave him
no secret gratification. He continued to trot along, holding steadily to
the gait, subtly aware of the slackened rein and of the wrenched and
loosened girdle, until, with the coming of noon, the blessed relief from
the weight of the man, the ill-fitting saddle, and the over-tight girth,
came also an agreeable surprise. He was turned out to graze without
hobble or tether, and for this consideration he felt faint glimmerings
of respect for his new master. Making free at first with the other
horses, he set off to enjoy to the full his new-found liberty.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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