Oak Spring 



he ll never water at any of our trap corrals. An 

 we believe he can go without water fer two weeks, 

 unless mebbe he hes a secret hole we ve never trailed 

 him to.&quot; 



&quot; Would we have any chance to see this White 

 Mustang and his band? &quot; questioned Jones. 



&quot; See him? Why, thet d be easy. Go down Snake 

 Gulch, camp at Singin Cliffs, go over into Nail 

 Canon, an wait. Then send some one slippin down 

 to the water-hole at Kanab Canon, an when the band 

 cums in to drink which I reckon will be in a few 

 days now hev them drive the mustangs up. Only 

 be sure ^o hev them get ahead of the White Mustang, 

 so he ll hev only one way to cum, fer he sure is 

 knowin . He never makes a mistake. Mebbe you ll 

 get to see him cum by like a white streak. Why, I ve 

 heerd thet mustang s hoofs ring like bells on the 

 rocks a mile away. His hoofs are harder n any iron 

 shoe as was ever made. But even if you don t get 

 to see him, Snake Gulch is worth seein .&quot; 



I learned later from Stewart that the White Mus 

 tang was a beautiful stallion of the wildest strain of 

 mustang blue blood. He had roamed the long 

 reaches between the Grand Canon and Buckskin 

 toward its southern slope for years ; he had been the 

 most sought-for horse by all the wranglers, and had 

 become so shy and experienced that nothing but a 



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