XL.
I couldn't rein off--seem'd swept along
In the rush an' roar an' thunderin' crash;
The lightnin' struck at the runnin' herd
With a crack like the stroke of a cowboy's lash.
Thar! I could see it; I tell ye, pard,
Things seem'd whittl'd down sort of fine--
We wasn't five hundred feet from the gulch,
With its mean little fringe of scrubby pine.
XLI.
What could stop us? I grit my teeth;
Think I pray'd--ain't sartin of thet;
When, whizzin' an' singin', thar came the rush
Right past my face of a lariat!
"Bully fur you, old pard!" I roar'd,
Es it whizz'd roun' the leader's steamin' chest,
An' I wheel'd the mustang fur all he was wuth
Kerslap on the side of the old steer's breast.
XLII.
He gev a snort, an' I see him swerve--
I foller'd his shoulder clus an' tight;
Another swerve, an' the herd begun
To swing around.--Shouts I, "All right
"Ye've fetch'd 'em now!" The mustang gave
A small, leettle whinney. I felt him flinch.
Sez I, "Ye ain't goin' tew weaken now,
Old feller, an' me in this darn'd pinch?"
XLIII.
"No," sez he, with his small, prickin' ears,
Plain es a human could speak; an' me--
I turn'd my head tew glimpse ef I could,
Who might the chap with the lariat be.
Wal, Pard, I weaken'd--ye bet yer life!
Thar wasn't a human in sight around,
But right in front of me come the beat
Of a hoss's hoofs on the tremblin' ground--
XLIV.
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