Read Online The Smartest Horse in Texas (The Traherns #2) by Nancy Radke - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nancy Radke
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want to barge in there with Hero and give them another horse to steal.
Dismounting, I slipped down the trail, checking it out, then
stopped, my nerves on full alert.
A small glow showed where their fire was. They were laughing and
talking, secure in having left me on the other side of the river.
I counted them. Eight, plus Dawn. Where was number nine?
Glad I had my moccasins on, as I could feel the brush under my
feet, I pulled back from the camp and circled it, looking for number nine. He
was with the horses, stroking Misty.
Now to get Dawn away. I’d probably have to forgo Misty’s escape.
They had tied Dawn to a small tree. I circled around and came up
behind her, took my knife and slit the bonds.
“Matthew,” she whispered, “cut Misty free. Then run.”
It meant me crawling back to where the horses were, but by then
number nine had rejoined the group at the fire.
The horses snorted as I got close, uncertain of who I was. I
untied Misty, pulled her head down, then tied the reins behind her ears so she
wouldn’t think she was ground-tied. I was circling back to the trail where I’d
come in, knowing I was pushing my luck, when a shout from the campfire told me
somebody was figuring things out.
Misty had moved into the middle of camp, and they were standing
there, looking at her. Dawn whistled.
The filly threw up her head, causing the Indian trying to catch
her to miss, then she ran to Dawn who swung on and rode out, headed down the
trail.
I followed, as fast as I could run, being one jump ahead of the
raiding party. As I reached Hero, I turned and fired into the brush with my
rifle. I heard a yelp, and figured I’d at least winged one. I fired several
more times, then mounted and rode off after her.
Dawn rode Misty as fast as she would go, across the flood plain
and up to the river.
She looked around as I joined her. “How did you cross?”
“Hero swam it. We’re going to have to swim back.”
“There’s no way...”
“Get off.”
She jumped off. “There’s quicksand in this river. And snakes.
Water moccasins.”
Now she told me. I pulled my rope off my saddle and dropped it over Misty’s
head. Lifting one of her front feet, I made it so the noose wouldn’t strangle
her.
We could hear the Indians coming, their yells of anger preceding
them. They had had to go back for their horses, once they saw us ride off.
I took the rifle and shot in their direction, pumping it to fire
as fast as I could, hoping it would slow them down. It made them cautious, and
they backed off.
“Get on the downstream side of Hero and tie one hand to the
saddle.”
She pulled off her heavy skirt, then tied herself to the saddle
as I put my rifle away.
“Go, Hero.”
I grabbed his tail and smacked him on the rear—I’d never
done that before—and he sprung into the river, dragging Misty and Dawn
with him. I got jerked off my feet, but soon we were all in the water, with
Hero headed to the other side.
The Indians came up to the river after we were twenty feet from
shore, and commenced firing at us. I felt a deep, burning sensation in my
shoulder and arm, the side holding on to Hero’s tail, and pulled my other hand
over to grab hold and help support me.
7
Misty was struggling in the silt-laden river, but the rope gave
her help. Besides this was her first time across and she was not tired.
I glanced back. Some of the Indians were trying to get their
horses to enter the river. They finally gave up, shot a few more times and
left.
I kicked my feet, trying to help Hero out. He was laboring now,
and we were being carried downstream as well as forward.
When we finally reached the riverbank it was too steep for him
to climb out. He turned and started swimming downstream. I wondered if I let go
of his tail, maybe I could get up on the bank and help him. Then the pain in my
shoulder reminded me I was probably going to have to leave it all to him.
The river curved in a large bend, swinging away from us, so
Dismounting, I slipped down the trail, checking it out, then
stopped, my nerves on full alert.
A small glow showed where their fire was. They were laughing and
talking, secure in having left me on the other side of the river.
I counted them. Eight, plus Dawn. Where was number nine?
Glad I had my moccasins on, as I could feel the brush under my
feet, I pulled back from the camp and circled it, looking for number nine. He
was with the horses, stroking Misty.
Now to get Dawn away. I’d probably have to forgo Misty’s escape.
They had tied Dawn to a small tree. I circled around and came up
behind her, took my knife and slit the bonds.
“Matthew,” she whispered, “cut Misty free. Then run.”
It meant me crawling back to where the horses were, but by then
number nine had rejoined the group at the fire.
The horses snorted as I got close, uncertain of who I was. I
untied Misty, pulled her head down, then tied the reins behind her ears so she
wouldn’t think she was ground-tied. I was circling back to the trail where I’d
come in, knowing I was pushing my luck, when a shout from the campfire told me
somebody was figuring things out.
Misty had moved into the middle of camp, and they were standing
there, looking at her. Dawn whistled.
The filly threw up her head, causing the Indian trying to catch
her to miss, then she ran to Dawn who swung on and rode out, headed down the
trail.
I followed, as fast as I could run, being one jump ahead of the
raiding party. As I reached Hero, I turned and fired into the brush with my
rifle. I heard a yelp, and figured I’d at least winged one. I fired several
more times, then mounted and rode off after her.
Dawn rode Misty as fast as she would go, across the flood plain
and up to the river.
She looked around as I joined her. “How did you cross?”
“Hero swam it. We’re going to have to swim back.”
“There’s no way...”
“Get off.”
She jumped off. “There’s quicksand in this river. And snakes.
Water moccasins.”
Now she told me. I pulled my rope off my saddle and dropped it over Misty’s
head. Lifting one of her front feet, I made it so the noose wouldn’t strangle
her.
We could hear the Indians coming, their yells of anger preceding
them. They had had to go back for their horses, once they saw us ride off.
I took the rifle and shot in their direction, pumping it to fire
as fast as I could, hoping it would slow them down. It made them cautious, and
they backed off.
“Get on the downstream side of Hero and tie one hand to the
saddle.”
She pulled off her heavy skirt, then tied herself to the saddle
as I put my rifle away.
“Go, Hero.”
I grabbed his tail and smacked him on the rear—I’d never
done that before—and he sprung into the river, dragging Misty and Dawn
with him. I got jerked off my feet, but soon we were all in the water, with
Hero headed to the other side.
The Indians came up to the river after we were twenty feet from
shore, and commenced firing at us. I felt a deep, burning sensation in my
shoulder and arm, the side holding on to Hero’s tail, and pulled my other hand
over to grab hold and help support me.
7
Misty was struggling in the silt-laden river, but the rope gave
her help. Besides this was her first time across and she was not tired.
I glanced back. Some of the Indians were trying to get their
horses to enter the river. They finally gave up, shot a few more times and
left.
I kicked my feet, trying to help Hero out. He was laboring now,
and we were being carried downstream as well as forward.
When we finally reached the riverbank it was too steep for him
to climb out. He turned and started swimming downstream. I wondered if I let go
of his tail, maybe I could get up on the bank and help him. Then the pain in my
shoulder reminded me I was probably going to have to leave it all to him.
The river curved in a large bend, swinging away from us, so
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