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"Surest thing you know," responded the boy quickly, his nice eyes full of sympathy for them. "Some of the boys will see you home your folks are getting awfully worried about you, you know and the rest of us will go on and dig out the poor bronchos. So long. We'll be back pronto." "And now home," sighed Betty, as she looked at the ranch house just visible in the distance.
Like a flash the bronchos sprang to the front, two lengths before the other teams; but, terrified by the yelling of the crowd, instead of bending to the left bank up which the road wound, they wheeled to the right and were almost across the river before Sandy could swing them back into the course.
"Silence is getting heavy, Rufus," he observed, enjoying our embarrassment. Thus we jogged forward for a mile or more. "Troth, me pet lambs," he remarked, as breath returned, "ye'll both bleat better without me!" Forthwith, away he rode fifty yards ahead, keeping that distance beyond us for the rest of the day and only calling over his shoulder occasionally. "Och! But y'r bronchos are slow!
They ate their bannocks 'Rocky Mountain dead shot' Westerners call the slap-jacks in silence. While the old man still pondered mazed and dumb, the Ranger dabbled the cups and plates in the River and recinched the pack saddle, the little mule blowing out his sides and groaning to ease the girth, the bronchos wisely eating to the process of reharnessing. The Britisher's reverence for law dies hard.
For an hour and more the buckboard hummed along the trail smooth and winding, the bronchos pulling hard on the lines without a sign of weariness, till the bluffs began to grow thicker and gradually to close into a solid belt of timber. Beyond this belt of timber lay the Ruthenian Colony but newly placed. The first intimation of the proximity of this colony came in quite an unexpected way.
It was three o'clock of a fine, clear, golden afternoon as they said good-by to McFarlane and started eastward, as if for a little drive. Berrie held the reins in spite of Wayland's protestations. "These bronchos are only about half busted," she said. "They need watching. I know them better than you do." Therefore he submitted, well knowing that she was entirely competent and fully informed. Mrs.
It is as if the earth were suddenly rent, and you looked down on that underworld of which Indian legend tells so many wonder yarns. Don't mind wondering how you will go down! The bronchos will manage that, where an Eastern horse would break his neck and yours, too. The driver jams on brakes; and you drop down a terribly steep grade in a series of switchbacks, or zigzags, to the Bridge.
The rattle of the trailing box, together with the wild yelling of the crowd rushing down the bank, excites the bronchos to madness, and, taking the bits in their teeth, they do their first free running that day. Past the citizens' team like a whirlwind they dash, clear the intervening space, and gain the flanks of the bays. Can the bays hold them?
"Well, as I was panting along like a 'heavey horse, as Harry Hobbs would say, not really too bad, dad, along comes that big rancher, Stewart Duff, driving his team of pinto bronchos, and with him a chap named Bayne, from Red Pine Creek. He turned out to be an awfully decent sort. And Duff's dog, Slipper, ranging on ahead, a beautiful setter." "Yes, I have seen him."
Duane passed inside himself to learn that supper would soon be ready. At table he found himself opposite the three who had attracted his attention. "Ruth, I envy the lucky cowboys," Longstreth was saying. Ruth was a curly-headed girl with gray or hazel eyes. "I'm crazy to ride bronchos," she said. Duane gathered she was on a visit to western Texas.
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