Bred of the Desert: A Horse and a RomanceHorton, Charles M. (Charles Marcus)
General
Bred of the Desert: A Horse and a Romance
Horton, Charles M. (Charles Marcus)
Adventure stories; Horses -- Fiction; Love stories; New Mexico -- Fiction
"Thot li'l' _caballo_," he began, "he's bringin' me mooch good
luck. Thot _potrillo_ he's wort' seven--he's
wort'--_si_--eight dolars--thot _potrillo_. I t'ink I haf sell
heem, too--queek--in town! But first I must go cuttin' thee wood!" With
this he let down the bars and entered the inclosure. Then his thoughts
took an abrupt turn. "I keel thot Pedro Garcia soomtime--bet you' life!
He's stealin' fleas off a dog--thot _hombre_!"
Felipe drove the borrowed horse out of the inclosure, and then singled
out the mate to the mare. As he harnessed up this horse, the colt,
standing close by, revealed marked interest. Also, as Felipe led the
horse out of the corral the colt followed till shut off by the bars,
which Felipe hurriedly put up. But they did not discourage him. He
remained very close to them, peering out between the while Felipe
hitched the team to his empty lumber rigging. Then came the crack of a
whip, loud creaking of greaseless wheels, the voice of Felipe in lusty
demand, all as the outfit set out up the trail toward the timber-slopes.
But not till the earth was still again, the cloud of dust in the trail
completely subsided, did the colt turn away from the bars and seek his
mother, and then with a look in his soft-blinking eyes that told of
concentrated pondering on these mysteries of life.
CHAPTER III
A SURPRISE
Next morning, having returned from the timber-slopes, Felipe, fresh and
radiant, appeared outside the corral in holiday attire. Part of this
attire was a pair of brand-new overalls. Indeed, the overalls were so
new that they crackled; and Felipe appeared quite conscious of their
newness, for he let down the bars with great care, and with even greater
care stepped into the inclosure. Then it was seen, since he was a
Mexican who ran true to form, there was a flaw in all this splendor. For
he had drawn on the new overalls over the older pair--worse, had drawn
them on over _two_ older pairs, as revealed at the bottoms, where
peered plaintively two shades of blue--lighter blue of the older pair,
very light blue of the oldest pair--the effect of exposure to desert
suns. So Felipe had on three pairs of overalls. Yet this was not all of
distinction. Around his brown throat was a bright red neckerchief, while
between the unbuttoned edges of his vest was an expanse of bright
green--the coloring of a tight-fitting sweater.
There was reason for all this. Felipe was going to town, and he was
taking the mare along with him, and the mare naturally would take her
colt; and because he had come to know the value of the colt, Felipe
wished to appear as prosperous in the eyes of the Americans in town as
he believed the owner of so fine a colt ought to appear.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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