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Updated: June 17, 2025
Kirby swallowed what must have been the last soggy crumb of hardtack. "Well, we had a mind to try that. M'pa, he started him a spread down Pecos way. He had him a good stud-quarter hoss one of Steel Dust's git. Won two or three races, that stud did. Called him Kiowa. Pa made a deal with a Mex mustanger; he got some prime stuff he caught in the Panhandle.
The mustanger achieved a half smile, stretching the skin of his gaunt young face. "Always it is better to see before being seen." When they started he led the way to the left at a walk. Drew, aroused now, looked about him carefully. This was rough country cut by pinnacles of red and yellow rock, backed by the purple ridges of the greater heights. It was desert land, too.
Of course they became eager to accompany him; and, nothing loth myself to see the sport, I assented to their request; and, joining the "mustanger," rode towards the south-west, and in less than an hour he pointed out a small "gang" quietly feeding some three or four miles away.
Me, I was trailin' 'long with this Mex mustanger to learn some of his tricks. When I came back, theah jus' warn't nothin' nothin' a man wants to remember after. Someday I'm gonna hunt me Comanches. Gonna learn me some tricks in this heah war I can use in that business!" There was no change in his expression.
"So—Hunt Rennie did know about those horses!" Bayliss pounced. "He did not! He sent us to the mustanger camp with a message, and the Pima rode scout for us. It’s a regular order on the Range—take one of the Pimas if you are goin’ any distance from where you can fort up. You can find out that’s true easily enough."
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