Like a rabbit he
came bounding down, down where the way was steepest and most treacherous. And
at every jump the rein-end fell, first on one side and then along the other,
as a skilled canoeman shifts the paddle to force his slight craft forward in a
treacherous current.
Down the last slope he came thundering. On his back Annie-Many-Ponies lashed
him steadily, straining her eyes in the direction which Jean had taken past
the camera. She knew that they were watching her--she knew also that the
camera crank in Pete Lowry's hands was turning, turning, recording every move
of hers, every little changing expression. She swept down upon them so close
that Pete grabbed the tripod with one hand, ready to lift it and dodge away
from the coming collision. Still leaning, still lashing and straining every
nerve in pursuit, she dashed past, pivoted the pinto upon his hind feet,
darted back toward the staring group and jumped off while he was yet running.
Now that she had done it; now that she had proven that she also had nerve and
much skill in riding, black loneliness settled upon her again. She came slowly
back, and as she came she heard them praise the ride she had made.
Pages:
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97