CHAPTER VII
A SUDDEN STORM
The girls spent the rest of that day getting acquainted, at whichagreeable task Andy Rawlinson, the head cowboy, assisted pleasantly. Thelatter introduced them to several others of the ranch hands, all of whomwere as picturesque and good-natured as Andy himself.
Escorted by Rawlinson and followed by the admiring glances of the othercowboys, the girls were introduced to the interior of the bunk houseswhich, with their rude wooden cots built into the side of the walls,their scanty and rather severe furniture, and the romantic lookingtrophies fastened to the bare boards of the walls, filled the girls withcuriosity and interest.
Then on to the corrals, where some spectacular broncho busting wasstaged for the sole benefit of the visitors. In this dangerous businessAndy himself took a part, and the girls gasped with dismay and laterwith admiration as the boy ran alongside a vicious looking animal for afew paces, then flung himself recklessly upon the beast's back andclung there, seemingly defying all the laws of gravitation.
"Oh, he surely will be killed!" cried Amy, clutching Betty in terror."That horse will throw him----"
"Keep quiet, can't you, Amy?" cried Mollie impatiently, beside herselfwith excitement. "Don't you suppose he has ever done this sort of thingbefore?"
Then followed such an exhibition of sheer grit and skill and dauntlesscourage as none of the girls would ever forget.
The vicious brute raced madly around and around the corrals, cruel headupflung, nostrils dilated, but still the man upon his back clung withmaddening persistence. Then he stopped so suddenly that the man wasalmost flung over his lowered head and the girls held their breath, butAndy recovered himself and touching the spurs to the beast's belly, sentit flying round the corral once more. There was sweat on its body andthe flaring nostrils were blood red with the effort, but the spirit ofthe beast was still unbroken.
Around and around the ring he plunged, the other horses galloping wildlyfrom his path, then suddenly as though the thing on his back hadmaddened him past bearing, he began to buck and to plunge and to rearhimself on his hind legs in a desperate effort to throw himselfbackward, until it seemed to the fascinated, terrified girls that AndyRawlinson surely must be killed.
HE CLUNG TO THE HORSE'S BACK AS THOUGH HE HAD BEEN A PARTOF HIM.
_The Outdoor Girls in the Saddle._ _Page 64_]
But Andy Rawlinson had not spent his twenty-eight years in the saddlefor nothing. He clung to that horse's back as though he had been a partof him, and when the outraged beast tried to throw himself over backwardfor the second time, Andy evidently decided that he had played enough.
A cruel blow of his spurred heel brought the beast almost to its kneeswith a whinny of pain. Then it jumped high in the air, and once morebegan its furious race with this mysterious and horrible being thatclung so tenaciously to his back.
Andy rode him hard, cruelly hard, and when the beast, panting, sweating,beaten, would have stopped he dug the spurs in and drove him on, on,until the broncho's breath came in sobbing gasps and his legs trembledunder him.
Betty, who could never bear to see anything hurt, shouted to AndyRawlinson as man and beast came abreast of her:
"Isn't that enough?" she cried. "You've beaten him. Stop! Pleasestop!"
And Andy Rawlinson, flashing his pleasant smile, flung himself from hismount, while the beautiful horse stood there, quivering, head hung inshame----
"Game hoss, that," said Andy, as he vaulted the low railing andapproached the girls. "Fought like a thoroughbred."
"And you were wonderful," cried Betty, with her warm impulsiveness. "Inever saw finer riding. We were all afraid you were going to be killed."
Andy was pleased, but he looked at Betty rather quizzically.
"Strange," he drawled, with a smile on his face, "strange whatimpressions you get sometimes. Now I kind o' thought you was mad at me,the way you called out to stop. Anyways, you looked mad."
"I was only sorry for the horse," Betty explained gravely. "He was game,as you say, and I hated to see his spirit entirely broken."
Andy Rawlinson looked at her with admiring approval in his nice eyes.
"There speaks the real lover of animals," he cried enthusiastically. "Ihate to break a good hoss myself, but you see it has to be done--for thesake of the hoss. A hoss that's a bad actor is mighty like a mad dog.It has to be killed--or broke. So we break 'em. But now," he said,glancing toward the corrals, "I reckon you young ladies would like topick out some nice gentle hosses to ride while you're here."
The girls nodded and crowded forward eagerly while Andy called to someof the cowboys who had been lingering enviously near.
"Bring out the sorrel and Nigger, will you, Jake?" he said to one ofthem. "I'll corral Lady and Nabob."
The girls watched with interest while the boys corraled the four horsesAndy had selected and led them forth for the visitors' inspection.
They were splendid specimens of horse flesh, and for a moment the girlswere simply lost in admiration. Nigger, as his name implied, was amagnificent coal-black animal without a speck of white upon himanywhere. He and Betty seemed to form a mutual admiration society on theinstant, for with a gentle whinny he cantered up to the girl and begannosing inquisitively in her pocket in search of sugar. Luckily Betty hadbrought some with her, and she fed a couple of lumps to the beautifulanimal, thereby definitely sealing their pact of friendship.
"Oh you, Nigger!" crooned Betty joyfully, as she rubbed the velvetmuzzle. "You and I are going to be great little pals, aren't we? Youperfect old darling!" And Nigger whinnied again and nosed about for moresugar.
"Well, I like that," cried Grace, breaking the silence in which they hadall been enjoyably regarding the little scene. "Betty doesn't have tochoose her horse--it chooses her."
"Oh well, Betty always did have a way with her," laughed Mollie, andpromptly turned her attention to the remaining three horses.
"Lady" was a lovely white filly with whom Amy fell in love immediately.
"This one's mine," she cried, putting a possessive hand on Lady's flankwhile the latter turned her dainty head and regarded the girl out ofsoftly-wistful brown eyes. "I wanted her as soon as I saw her."
Her claim was not disputed, for Grace was raving over the horse calledNabob, who was, by a strange coincidence, that very light tan colorwhich she most adored.
"How did you know I always wanted a horse just like this?" she cried,turning joyfully to Andy Rawlinson who, with the other "boys" had beenlooking on amusedly.
"Well," drawled Andy, with a grin, "seems like you are all suited prettywell."
For Mollie, whose adventurous spirit craved a spice of the dangerous ineverything, had taken immediately to the sorrel, who had apparently beengiven no name. He was a skittish horse, gentle, as Andy explained, but"pow'ful nervous--had to be sort o' coaxed along."
"You're my horse, all right," Mollie declared, stroking the animal'smuzzle fearlessly, unmindful of rolling eyes and nervously twitchingears. "I don't like 'em too tame, old boy. And by the way," she added,struck by a sudden inspiration, "I've thought of just the name for you.I'm going to call you 'Old Nick.'"
And so, when the selection had been made, to everybody's satisfaction,nothing would do but the girls must try their mounts that very evening.They had brought their riding tags in preparation for their summer inthe saddle, and when they had slipped into the tight breeches, andleather leggings, tailored coat, and snug fitting hat, they looked likewhat they were--four thoroughly modern and very pretty Outdoor Girls.
Later, when they rode proudly about the ranch on their splendid mounts,the ranch hands were lost in admiration of them.
"Gosh," said one, removing his hat and fanning himself with it, for theevening was warm, "when Andy said they was four girls comin' from thecity to visit us I was plumb skeered. But these here girls, they ain'tno ordinary kind, no siree. An' they sho' does know how to ride."
However, the girls were satisfied with a rather short ride th
at eveningfor they were out of practice and they knew that sore muscles would bethe price of over-exertion.
In the days that followed they took longer and longer rides, evenventuring along the rough forest trails when Andy Rawlinson was withthem as guide and protector. Mr. and Mrs. Nelson rode, too, but, notbeing as strenuous as the girls, they were glad to have any one ascapable as Andy Rawlinson to look out for their charges.
But one day, much as they liked him, the girls got a little tired ofAndy's chaperonage, and at Mollie's suggestion they decided to "give himthe slip."
"Anybody would think he was our granny, the way he dictates to us," shecomplained, as she flicked a fly from Old Nick's side, thereby causinghim to shy wildly. "We know our way about all right now, and I'm sure weOutdoor Girls never needed anybody to look out for us, anyway."
"Hear, hear," laughed Betty, half way between conviction and protest. "Idon't like to have Andy around all the time, any more than you do,Mollie, but I'm not sure that we know our way about as well as we might.If we should get lost----"
"Oh, don't be an old wet blanket," cried Mollie impatiently, and as Amyand Grace seemed for once to be of her mind, Betty had nothing to do butto surrender as gracefully as she could.
It was after lunch that the girls managed to slip away without beingobserved to where their mounts were tethered at the edge of thewoodland. And oh, what a glorious sense of freedom when they weremounted and cantering down a cool forest trail--alone!
They had been this way with Andy before, so they had no fear of losingtheir path and they urged their horses to more and more speed,intoxicated by the sense of freedom.
What they did not notice was that the sun had disappeared behind anominous bank of clouds and the wind was rising threateningly. And sothey were caught fairly and squarely by the deluge that swept upon themwith a bewildering suddenness.
Where to go? Where to turn for shelter from the driving rain and moaningwind? They checked their horses while they gazed at each other wildly.
Suddenly Betty's straining eyes made out what seemed to be the outlineof a little shed or cabin, half hidden by surrounding foliage.
"There's a house over there," she cried, hastily dismounting and tyingNigger to a tree a little off the path. "Maybe whoever lives there willlet us in till the rain stops."
The girls followed her example and hurriedly made their way on foottoward their one hope of refuge. When they reached the house Bettystarted to knock, then paused uncertainly, her hand uplifted. For abovethe beat of the rain and the shrill whine of the wind came a strain ofmusic, mournful, yet exquisitely beautiful. Amazed, forgetful of theirdiscomfort, the girls listened while the throbbing, haunting melodywailed itself to a close.
"I--I've heard that music before," Betty murmured, then rapped gently,almost timidly, on the door.
The Outdoor Girls in the Saddle; Or, The Girl Miner of Gold Run Page 8
