The Pacing Mustang 



flat by Antelope Springs and I sees a lump on 

 the dry mud inside the rush belt. I knowed I 

 never seen that before, so rides up, thinking it 

 might be some of our stock, an' seen it was a 

 horse lying plumb flat. The wind was blowing 



like from him to me, so I rides up close 



and seen it was the Pacer, dead as a mackerel. 

 Still, he didn't look swelled or cut, and there 

 wa'n't no smell, an' I didn't know what to 

 think till I seen his ear twitch off a fly and 

 then I knowed he was sleeping. I gits down 

 me rope and coils it, and seen it was old and 

 pretty shaky in spots, and me saddle a single 

 cinch, an' me pony about 700 again a 1,200 lbs. 

 stallion, an' I sez to meself, sez I : ' ' Tain' t no 

 use, I'll only break me cinch and git throwed 

 an' lose me saddle.' So I hits the saddle-horn a 

 crack with the hondu, and I wish't you'd a 

 seen that mustang. He lept six foot in the air 

 an' snorted like he was shunting cars. His 

 eyes fairly bugged out an' he lighted out lickety 

 split for California, and he orter be there 

 about now if he kep' on like he started — and 

 I swear he never made a break the hull 

 trip." 



251 



