Search e-Books

Again he sent out that shrill,
air-splitting whistle. Slone understood it to be a clarion call to Nagger. If
Nagger had been alone Wildfire would have killed him. The red stallion was a
killer of horses. All over the Utah ranges he had left the trail of a
murderer. Nagger understood this, too, for he whistled back in rage and
terror. It took an iron arm to hold him. Then Wildfire plunged, apparently
down, and vanished from Slone's sight.
Slone hurried onward, to be blocked by a huge crack in the rocky plateau. This
he had to head. And then another and like obstacle checked his haste to reach
that promontory. He was forced to go more slowly. Wildfire had been close only
as to sight. And this was the great canyon that dwarfed distance and magnified
proximity. Climbing down and up, toiling on, he at last learned patience. He
had seen Wildfire at close range. That was enough. So he plodded on, once more
returning to careful regard of Nagger. It took an hour of work to reach the
point where Wildfire had disappeared.


Pages:
109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133