wildfire-第19节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



Suddenly　the　bank　of　sand　began　to　slide　with　him。　He　snorted　in　fright。　The
avalanche　started　slowly　and　was　evidently　no　mere　surface　slide。　It　was　deep。
It　stoppedthen　started　againand　again　stopped。　Wildfire　appeared　to　be
sinking　deeper　and　deeper。　His　struggles　only　embedded　him　more　firmly。　Then
the　bank　of　sand；　with　an　ominous；　low　roar；　began　to　move　once　more。　This
time　it　slipped　swiftly。　The　dust　rose　in　a　cloud；　almost　obscuring　the　horse。
Long　streams　of　gravel　rattled　down；　and　waterfalls　of　sand　waved　over　the
steps　of　the　slope。

Just　as　suddenly　the　avalanche　stopped　again。　Slone　saw；　from　the　great　oval
hole　it　had　left　above；　that　it　was　indeed　deep。　That　was　the　reason　it　did
not　slide　readily。　When　the　dust　cleared　away　Slone　saw　the　stallion；　sunk　to
his　flanks　in　the　sand；　utterly　helpless。

With　a　wild　whoop　Slone　leaped　off　Nagger；　and；　a　lasso　in　each　hand；　he　ran
down　the　long　bank。　The　fire　was　perhaps　a　quarter　of　a　mile　distant；　and；
since　the　grass　was　thinning　out；　it　was　not　coming　so　fast　as　it。　had　been。
The　position　of　the　stallion　was　half…way　between　the　fire　and　Slone；　and　a
hundred　yards　up　the　slope。

Like　a　madman　Slone　climbed　up　through　the　dragging；　loose　sand。　He　was　beside
himself　with　a　fury　of　excitement。　He　fancied　his　eyes　were　failing　him；　that
it　was　not　possible　the　great　horse　really　was　up　there；　helpless　in　the　sand。
Yet　every　huge　stride　Slone　took　brought　him　closer　to　a　fact　he　could　not
deny。　In　his　eagerness　he　slipped；　and　fell；　and　crawled；　and　leaped；　until　he
reached　the　slide　which　held　Wildfire　prisoner。

The　stallion　might　have　been　fast　in　quicksand；　up　to　his　body；　for　all　the
movement　he　could　make。　He　could　move　only　his　head。　He　held　that　up；　his　eyes
wild；　showing　the　whites；　his　foaming　mouth　wide　open；　his　teeth　gleaming。　A
sound　like　a　scream　rent　the　air。　Terrible　fear　and　hate　were　expressed　in
that　piercing　neigh。　And　shaggy；　wet；　dusty　red；　with　all　of　brute　savageness
in　the　look　and　action　of　his　head；　he　appeared　hideous。

As　Slone　leaped　within　roping　distance　the　avalanche　slipped　a　foot　or　two；
halted；　slipped　once　more；　and　slowly　started　again　with　that　low　roar。　He　did
not　care　whether　it　slipped　or　stopped。　Like　a　wolf　he　leaped　closer；　whirling
his　rope。　The　loop　hissed　round　his　head　and　whistled　as　he　flung　it。　And　when
fiercely　he　jerked　back　on　the　rope；　the　noose　closed　tight　round　Wildfire's
neck。

〃By　GdIgota　rope…on　him！〃　cried　Slone；　in　hoarse　pants。

He　stared；　unbelieving。　It　was　unreal；　that　sightunreal　like　the　slow；
grinding　movement　of　the　avalanche　under　him。　Wildfire's　head　seemed　a　demon
head　of　hate。　It　reached　out；　mouth　agape；　to　bite；　to　rend。　That　horrible
scream　could　not　be　the　scream　of　a　horse。

Slone　was　a　wild…horse　hunter；　a　rider；　and　when　that　second　of　incredulity
flashed　by；　then　came　the　moment　of　triumph。　No　moment　could　ever　equal　that
one；　when　he　realized　he　stood　there　with　a　rope　around　that　grand　stallion's
neck。　All　the　days　and　the　miles　and　the　toil　and　the　endurance　and　the
hopelessness　and　the　hunger　were　paid　for　in　that　moment。　His　heart　seemed　too
large　for　his　breast。

〃I　trackedyou！〃　he　cried；　savagely。　〃I　stayedwith　you！　。　。　。　An'　I　got　a
ropeon　you！　An'I'll　ride　youyou　red　devil！〃

The　passion　of　the　man　was　intense。　That　endless；　racking　pursuit　had　brought
out　all　the　hardness　the　desert　had　engendered　in　him。　Almost　hate；　instead　of
love；　spoke　in　Slone's　words。　He　hauled　on　the　lasso；　pulling　the　stallion's
head　down　and　down。　The　action　was　the　lust　of　capture　as　well　as　the　rider's
instinctive　motive　to　make　the　horse　fear　him。　Life　was　unquenchably　wild　and
strong　in　that　stallion；　it　showed　in　the　terror　which　made　him　hideous。　And
man　and　beast　somehow　resembled　each　other　in　that　moment　which　was　inimical
to　noble　life。

The　avalanche　slipped　with　little　jerks；　as　if　treacherously　loosing　its　hold
for　a　long　plunge。　The　line　of　fire　below　ate　at　the　bleached　grass　and　the
long　column　of　smoke　curled　away　on　the　wind。

Slone　held　the　taut　lasso　with　his　left　hand；　and　with　the　right　he　swung　the
other　rope；　catching　the　noose　round　Wildfire's　nose。　Then　letting　go　of　the
first　rope　he　hauled　on　the　other；　pulling　the　head　of　the　stallion　far　down。
Hand　over　hand　Slone　closed　in　on　the　horse。　He　leaped　on　Wildfire's　head；
pressed　it　down；　and；　holding　it　down　on　the　sand　with　his　knees；　with　swift
fingers　he　tied　the　noose　in　a　hackamorean　improvised　halter。　Then；　just　as
swiftly；　he　bound　his　scarf　tight　round　Wildfire's　head；　blindfolding　him。

〃All　so　easy！〃　exclaimed　Slone；　under　his　breath。　〃Lord！　who　would　believe　it！
。　。　。　Is　it　a　dream？〃

He　rose　and　let　the　stallion　have　a　free　head。

〃Wildfire；　I　got　a　rope　on　youan'　a　hackamorean'　a　blinder；〃　said　Slone。
〃An'　if　I　had　a　bridle　I'd　put　that　on　you。　。　。　。　Who'd　ever　believe　you'd
catch　yourself；　draggin'　in　the　sand？〃

Slone；　finding　himself　failing　on　the　sand；　grew　alive　to　the　augmented
movement　of　the　avalanche。　It　had　begun　to　slide；　to　heave　and　bulge　and
crack。　Dust　rose　in　clouds　from　all　around。　The　sand　appeared　to　open　and　let
him　sink　to　his　knees。　The　rattle　of　gravel　was　drowned　in　a　soft　roar。　Then
he　shot　down　swiftly；　holding　the　lassoes；　keeping　himself　erect；　and　riding
as　if　in　a　boat。　He　felt　the　successive　steps　of　the　slope；　and　then　the　long
incline　below；　and　then　the　checking　and　rising　and　spreading　of　the　avalanche
as　it　slowed　down　on　the　level。　All　movement　then　was　checked　violently。　He
appeared　to　be　half　buried　in　sand。　While　he　struggled　to　extricate　himself
the　thick　dust　blew　away　and　settled　so　that　he　could　see。　Wildfire　lay　before
him；　at　the　edge　of　the　slide；　and　now　he　was　not　so　deeply　embedded　as　he　had
been　up　on　the　slope。　He　was　struggling　and　probably　soon　would　have　been　able
to　get　out。　The　line　of　fire　was　close　now；　but　Slone　did　not　fear　that。

At　his　shrill　whistle　Nagger　bounded　toward　him；　obedient；　but　snorting；　with
ears　laid　back。　He　halted。　A　second　whistle　started　him　again。　Slone　finally
dug　himself　out　of　the　sand；　pulled　the　lassoes　out；　and　ran　the　length　of
them　toward　Nagger。　The　black　showed　both　fear　and　fight。　His　eyes　roiled　and
he　half　shied　away。

〃Come　on！〃　called　Slone；　harshly。

He　got　a　hand　on　the　horse；　pulled　him　round；　and；　mounting　in　a　flash；　wound
both　lassoes　round　the　pommel　of　the　saddle。

〃Haul　him　out；　Nagger；　old　boy！〃　cried　Slone；　and　he　dug　spurs　into　the　black。

One　plunge　of　Nagger's　slid　the　stallion　out　of　the　sand。　Snorting；　wild；
blinded；　Wildfire　got　up；　shaking　in　every　limb。　He　could　not　see　his　enemies。
The　blowing　smoke；　right　in　his　nose；　made　scent　impossible。　But　in　the　taut
lassoes　he　sensed　the　direction　of　his　captors。　He　plunged；　rearing　at　the　end
of　the　plunge；　and　struck　out　viciously　with　his　hoofs。　Slone；　quick　with　spur
and　bridle；　swerved　Nagger　aside　and　Wildfire；　off　his　balance；　went　down　with
a　crash。　Slone　dragged　him；　stretched　him　out；　pulled　him　over　twice　before　he
got　forefeet　planted。　Once　up；　he　reared　again；　screeching　his　rage；　striking
wildly　with　his　hoofs。　Slone　wheeled　aside　and　toppled　him　over　again。

〃Wildfire；　it's　no　fair　fight；〃　he　called；　grimly。　〃But　you　led　me　a　chase。　。
。　。　An'　you　learn　right　now　I'm　boss！〃

Again　he　dragged　the　stallion。　He　was　ruthless。　He　would　have　to　be　so；
stopping　just　short　of　maiming　or　killing　the　horse；　else　he　would　never　break
him。　But　Wildfire　was　nimble。　He　got　to　his　feet　and　this　time　he　lunged　out。
Nagger；　powerful　as　he　was；　could　not　sustain　the　tremendous　shock；　and　went
down。　Slone　saved　himself　with　a　rider's　supple　skill；　falling　clear　of　the
horse；　and　he　leaped　again　into　the　saddle　as　Nagger　pounded　up。　Nagger　braced
his　huge　frame　and　held　the　plunging　stallion。　But　the　saddle　slipped　a
little；　the　cinches　cracked。　Slone　eased　the　strain　by　wheeling　after
Wildfire。

The　horses　had　worked　away　from　the　fire；　and　Wildfire；　free　of　the　stifling
smoke；　began　to　break　and　lunge　and　pitch；　plunging　round　Nagger　in　a　circle；
running　blindly；　but　with　unerring　scent。　Slone；　by　masterly　horsemanship；
easily　avoided　the　rushes；　and　made　a　pivot　of　Nagger；　round　which　the　wild
horse　dashed　in　his　frenzy。　It　seemed　that　he　no　longer　tried　to　free　himself。
He　lunged　to　kill。

〃Steady；　Nagger；　old　boy！〃　Slone　kept　calling。　〃He'll　never　get　at　you。　。　。　。
If　he　slips　that　blinder　I'll　kill　him！〃

The　stallion　was　a　fiend　in　his　fury；　quicker　than　a　panther；　wonderful　on　his
feet；　and　powerful　as　an　ox。　But　he　was　at　a　disadvantage。　He　could　not　see。
And　Slone；　in　his　spoken　intention　to　kill　Wildfire　should　the　scarf　slip；
acknowledged　that　he　never　would　have　a　chance　to　master　the　stallion。
Wildfire　was　bigger；　faster；　stronger　than　Slone　had　believed；　and　as　for
spirit；　that　was　a　grand　and　fearful　thing　to　see。

The　soft　sand　in　the　pass　was　plowed　deep　before　Wildfire　paused　in　his　mad
plunges。　He　was　wet　and　heaving。　His　red　coat　seemed　to　blaze。　His　mane　stood
up　and　his　ears　lay　flat。

Slone　uncoiled　the　lassoes　from　the　pommel　and　slacked　them　a　little。　Wildfire
stood　up；　striking　at　th