I*he Pacing Mustang 



almost every day about noon, and after thor- 

 oughly spying the land approached to drink. 



His had been a lonely life all winter since the 

 capture of his harem, and of this old Turkey- 

 track was fully aware. The old cook's chum had 

 a nice little brown mare which he judged would 

 serve his ends, and taking a pair of the strongest 

 hobbles, a spade, a spare lasso, and a stout post 

 he mounted the mare and rode away to the 

 famous Springs. 



A few antelope skimmed over the plain be- 

 fore him in the early freshness of the day. Cat- 

 tle were lying about in groups, and the loud, 

 sweet song of the prairie lark was heard on 

 every side. For the bright snowless winter of 

 the mesas was gone and the springtime was at 

 hand. The grass was greening and all nature 

 seemed turning to thoughts of love. 



It was in the air, and when the little brown 

 mare was picketed out to graze she raised her 

 nose from time to time to pour forth a long 

 shrill whinny that surely was her song, if song 

 she had, of love. 



Old Turkeytrack studied the wind and the 

 lay of the land. There was the pit he had la- 

 bored at, now opened and filled with water that 



264 



