The Pony Rider Boys in the Alkali Part 25

Tad obeyed gladly. Every sense was on the alert. The rest of the boys were all impatience to take part in the hunt. But the guide said no.

He feared that, if all were to start up the mountain side, their enthusiasm might lead them too far from camp, resulting in their losing their way. He knew how tricky the trail of a band of wild horses was, the clever animals leaving no ruse untried that would tend to mix up and lose their pursuers.

Tad's figure was growing smaller as he ascended higher and higher.

"You don't mean to say that horses climbed up the way he is going!"

questioned Walter incredulously.

"That's the way they went, my boy. They 're regular goats when it comes to mountain climbing. They'll go where a man could not, oftentimes."

Tad crept, cautiously on, now finding little to guide him, save his own instinct. He finally disappeared behind the rocks and trees of the low-lying range.

The lad was moving almost noiselessly now. A sound a short distance beyond him caused him to p.r.i.c.k up his ears sharply.

"I believe I am near them," he breathed, as he glanced about him. "Why did I not think to bring my rope?"

It was just as well for his own well-being, that he had not brought along that part of his saddle equipment. He was following the trail with the skill of a trained mountaineer. An Indian himself could have done it no better.

Perhaps the guide understood, better than did Tad himself, why he had started the lad on the trail, for a quiet smile hung about the lips of Tom Parry. All at once his twinkling eyes lit up with a new expression.

"Look! Look!" gasped Walter.

"Where? Where?" demanded Ned.

Walter pointed to a pyramid-shaped rock far above their heads.

At first they could scarcely believe their senses. There poised in the air, feet doubled into a bunch, stood a splendid specimen of horse-flesh, resting, it seemed, fairly on the sharp point of the rock, gazing down into and across the valley.

"The white stallion," breathed the lads all in the same breath.

The magnificent animal was a creamy white. Its head was held high, nostrils distended as if to catch the scent of those for whom it was looking. Beneath the rays of the low lying sun, its coat glistened and shone with a l.u.s.ter that no brush or comb could bring to it.

The lads gazed upon the beautiful statue almost in awe.

They were standing quite close up under the shadow of the mountain at that moment.

"Why doesn't he run?" whispered Walter.

"Do you think he sees us?" asked Ned.

"No. Stand perfectly still."

"Why doesn't he? All he would have to do would be to look down?"

questioned Stacy.

"He scents us. He knows we are somewhere near. But, if you will observe him closely, you will notice that he is looking at the camp.

He sees the Professor moving about," explained Parry.

"Do--do you think we could catch him?" asked Ned eagerly.

"The most skillful men in this part of the country have been trying to do that very thing for the last five years, my boy," answered the guide in a low tone. "No, you couldn't catch him. He's the finest animal to be found in the entire Nevada Desert district. Wouldn't mind owning him myself."

In the meantime Tad had been creeping nearer and nearer. He soon discovered that the leader of the band had swerved to the left. He concluded to follow, to see where the solitary animal had gone to. But so quietly did the lad move that the stallion neither heard nor scented him.

All at once the wonderful sight unfolded before the eyes of Tad Butler.

He flattened himself on the ground, within thirty yards of the splendid animal.

Suddenly the stallion whirled. Tad rose to his feet, The two stood facing each other, Tad with head thrust forward, the stallion with nostrils held high in the air.

"Oh, my rope, my rope!" breathed the boy. "If I had my rope!"

CHAPTER XIII

COYOTES JOIN IN THE CHORUS

Those down in the foothills saw the animal whirl and face the other way.

"He sees something," cried Walter, forgetting in his excitement that they were trying to keep quiet.

"Yes, he has probably scented Master Tad," explained the guide.

"Think he'll try to catch the horse?" asked Stacy.

"Hope not. Those wild horses are bad medicine. No, of course, he has no rope with him. But he'll be wise if he keeps out of the way of the beast."

Tad had no thought of doing either. He stood perfectly still, gazing in awe and wonder at the handsomest horse he had ever seen.

The stallion's eyes blazed. He uttered a loud snort, then rose right up into the air on his hind feet. One bound brought him many feet nearer the boy who was observing him. It was the only direction in which the stallion could go without plunging into a chasm.

"Whoa!" commanded Tad sharply.

The white horse never having been trained, failed to understand the word, but he halted just the same, gazing angrily at the bold boy standing there, who, it appeared, was defying him.

Uttering another snort, this time full of menace, the animal leaped straight toward the lad in long, graceful bounds.

Tad threw up his hands to frighten the stallion aside. The animal, however, refused to be swerved from its course.

"He's going to run over me," cried the boy, as he noted that the horse was rising for another leap.

Tad ducked just as the beast sprang clear of the ground. He felt the rush of air as the gleaming body was lifted over his head, the boy at the instant uttering a shrill yell to hasten the stallion's movements.

The front hoofs caught the rim of the Pony Rider Boy's sombrero, snipping it from his head. The hind feet came closer. They raked Tad's head, bowling him completely over, rolling him from the knoll on which he had been standing.

He brought up with a jolt some ten feet further down. Tad scrambled to his feet a little dizzy from the blow and the fall.

"Whew! That was a close call," he muttered, feeling his head to learn if it had been injured.