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Updated: May 8, 2025
"You're a friend of mine, Suvy, and even if you weren't, you'd have to last to get back." He turned his back on death, unwittingly, to spare the horse he loved. Delayed no less than an hour by this enforced retreat, he patiently led the broncho back to the opening of the pass, and, still on foot, led the steep way up over the mountain.
Broncho whacked at a scorpion with his four-pound Stetson felt, and the three watchers relapsed into comfortless silence. How well Bob Buckley had kept his secret, since these men, for two years his side comrades in countless border raids and dangers, thus spake of him, not knowing that he was the most arrant physical coward in all that Rio Bravo country!
His body is like a bundle of wires, as thin and muscular and enduring as that of a broncho pony. He can work all day long and then go down to the lodge-hall at the Crossing and dance half the night. You should really see him when he dances! He can jump straight up and click his heels twice together before he comes down again!
The broncho surveyed Paddy with scorn, rose to her hind legs and strolled towards the corner of the camp sacred to visitors. There she delivered herself of one final, mighty buck. When Weldon regained the perpendicular, he found himself directly facing the merry, admiring eyes of Ethel Dent.
The broncho was eager to obey directions, eager to do the bidding of the man he strangely loved. All of the first hard struggle was repeated and the current caught them as before. Again, as formerly, Van slipped off and swam by his pony's side.
He dropped back to the saddle where he bent low, yielding his whole body to the flying body of his horse. The crest was sharp. To the east, its approach was more easy; but on the west it offered a wall of blank, black rock. The fat Boer ponies were still at some distance from the eastern slope, when Weldon flung himself from his panting broncho.
He's stubborn as a broncho if you try to ride him. He's the easiest man in the world to get along with if you make a friend of him. No matter what's said of Jim Laramie there ain't a crooked hair in his head; but he's no angel and when his patience quits look out. What I'm going to tell you now, Barb, is on the square. It can't go no further. I tell you because you ought to know.
At any rate we'll give her the benefit of the doubt, for at that moment Apache gave testimony of the tickle in his toes by springing straight up into the air in as good an imitation of a "buck" as any "thoroughly gentled" little broncho could give in the polite society of his aristocratic Virginia cousins. Mrs.
He had helped to break her, and had sent her home from the improvised corral by one of his men. He had then parted from the others, who had dispersed to their various ranches with their prizes, and had ridden away on the broncho with which he had done such a good day's work.
A lighted tent stands out very distinctly by contrast against a dark horizon, and almost before he had left the ranch house yard the man on the impatient, mouse-coloured broncho knew that he had company; yet, characteristic in his every action, he did not hurry. Methodically he put up the pony in the new barn, fed and bedded him for the night.
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