The Pacing Mustan§ 



dust, and so turned the Stallion's head and 

 forced him back to take the crossing to the right. 



Down they went. The Stallion crossed and 

 Jo sprang to the ground. His horse was done, 

 for thirty miles had passed in the last stretch, 

 and Jo himself was worn cut. His eyes were 

 burnt with flying alkali dust. He was half blind 

 so he motioned to his 'pard' to "go ahead and 

 keep him straight for Alamosa ford." 



Out shot the rider on a strong, fresh steed, 

 and away they went — up and down on the roll- 

 ing plain — the Black Horse flecked with snowy 

 foam. His heaving ribs and noisy breath 

 showed what he felt — but on and on he went. 



And Tom on Ginger seemed to gain, then 

 lose and lose, when in an hour the long decline 

 of Alamosa came. And there a freshly mounted 

 lad took up the chase and turned it west, and 

 on they went past towns of prairie dogs, 

 through soapweed tracts and cactus brakes by 

 scores, and pricked and wrenched rode on. 

 With dust and sweat the Black was now a 

 dappled brown, but still he stepped the same. 

 Young Carrington, who followed, had hurt his 

 Steed by pushing at the very start, and spurred 



258 



