"But on the King I can run back like the wind," she mused.
The pack contained dried fruits and meat and staples, also an assortment of
good things to eat that were of a perishable nature, already much the worse
for the long ride. She spread all this out in the shade of a cedar. The
utensils were few--two cups, two pans, and a tiny pot. She gathered wood, and
arranged it for a fire, so that the rider could start as soon as he came back.
He seemed long in coming. Lucy waited, yet still he did not return. Finally
she thought of the red stallion, and started off down the wash to take a look
at him. He was grazing. He had lost some of the dirt and dust and the
bedraggled appearance. When he caught sight of her he lifted his head high and
whistled. How wild he looked! And his whistle was shrill, clear, strong. Both
the other horses answered it. Lucy went on closer to Wildfire. She was
fascinated now.
"If he doesn't know me!" she cried. Never had she been so pleased. She had
expected every sign of savageness on his part, and certainly had not intended
to go near him.
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