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Indeed, there was still much to be done before the happy day when he saddled the black stallion and took down the bars of the corral gate and rode him out. And rode him without a bit! For on the point of steel in the mouth of Diablo, Bull Hunter knew that the horse would be against it resolutely. So he confined himself to a light hackamore alone.
The Pima slipped ahead with a speed and efficiency of motion his companions envied. He had the two nearest horses in hand, leading them toward the bushes. "Looks like we ride bareback." Anse caught at a hackamore, then mounted. "Move!" Drew waved Running Fox to the other horse. "We can’t wait to get another horse. You ride for the Stronghold, make it straight to Rennie and report.
He appeared leading a beautiful, half-broken bay, that snorted and planted its feet and danced away from the unaccustomed crowd. Nevertheless the lad, as impassive as an image, held him well in hand, awaiting Thorne's signal. "Go!" called the Supervisor, his eyes on his watch. The boy, still grasping the hackamore in his left hand, with his right threw the saddle blanket over the animal's back.
The little gray mustang was a beauty, clean-limbed and racy, with long black mane and tail, and a fine, spirited head. There was a blanket strapped on his back, but no saddle. Bo held the short halter that had been fastened in a hackamore knot round his nose.
"They shall not shoot him while I live to prevent it!" Again her head was up and her shoulders squared. Tying the hackamore about her waist, she took a single deep breath of reassurance and stepped out into the river. For a dozen paces she found no difficulty in following the ford.
Then letting go of the first rope he hauled on the other, pulling the head of the stallion far down. Hand over hand Slone closed in on the horse. He leaped on Wildfire's head, pressed it down, and, holding it down on the sand with his knees, with swift fingers he tied the nose in a hackamore an improvised halter.
"He's a-goin' to ride with a hackamore!" cried someone as the Texan busied himself with the knots. Suddenly the lead-rope slackened and with a snort of fury the outlaw reared and lashed out with both forefeet. The Texan stepped swiftly aside and as the horse's feet struck the ground the loaded end of a rawhide quirt smashed against his jaw.
The men dropped from the bars and ran toward the gate, all, except Williams, who turned, blinking in the sun, his watch in his hand. A few short jumps, a fish-like swirl sideways, and still Collie held his seat. He eased the hackamore a little. He was breathing hard. The horse took up the slack with a vicious plunge, head downward. The boy's face grew white.
Bat Lajune removed the saddle from the Texan's horse and stepped forward with the thick felt pad which Tex, with a hand in the cheek-strap of the hackamore, brushed along the outlaw's sides a few times and then deftly threw over the animal's back.
Bob had never seen her before, but he recognized her as a mountain woman. She rode a pinto, guided by a hackamore, and was attired quite simply in the universal broad felt hat and a serviceable blue calico gown. In spite of this she rode astride; and rode well. A throwing rope, or riata, hung in the sling at the right side of her saddle pommel; and it looked as though it had been used.
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