The Valiant RunawaysAtherton, Gertrude Franklin Horn
General
The Valiant Runaways
Atherton, Gertrude Franklin Horn
California -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
"Yes, you can do the lassoing," said Adan, grimly. "My thumb nearly
went off last night, and is twice its size."
"Adan," said his friend, laying his hand on his comrade's knee. "I
haven't thanked you. I haven't mentioned it; but it is because--well--I
lay awake an hour last night trying to think of something to
say--and--and--thinking that I loved you better than my own brothers--"
"That will do, then," said Adan, gruffly. "We'll be kissing each other
in a minute as we did at the Hacienda Perez; and I think that we are
getting too big for that. I hear that American boys never kiss each
other."
"Don't they?" asked Roldan, pricking up his ears. "How I should like to
know some American boys. They must know so many things that we do not.
Who told you?"
"Antonio Scarpia has been in America, you know--in Boston. He came back
last month and rode over a few days ago for the night. I asked him many
questions. He says they never show any feeling except when they get
mad, and that they walk and row and play ball--with the feet,
caramba!--and run about in the snow. He says they would think we were
like girls with our fine clothes and our hammocks--"
"Girls!" cried Roldan, indignantly. "I'd like to see American or any
other boys do better with that bear than we did, or lasso a friend in
the midst of a boiling river as you did. And if they come here to laugh
at us they'll find one pair of fists that are not soft if they do have
lace ruffles over them. And I'd like to see them live all day on a
horse as we do."
"True, true, you are always right," said Adan, soothingly. "Ay, I think
those horses are coming this way. Better get up."
He moved back onto the anquera and Roldan sprang to his place and
unwound the lariat. Like all of its kind, it was a slender woven cord
about eighteen feet in length and made of tough strips of untanned
hide. It was an admirable weapon in skilled hands, but not to be
trifled with by the amateur. Many a careless Californian had lost a
finger or thumb, and more than one had owed it lockjaw.
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."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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