At that, around the wild horses wheeled, as if by command, and pelted off, to halt and gaze again.
“To-morrow we’ll see if we can run some down,” said the lieutenant. “Shall we, Stub?”
“Pawnee sometimes run all day. Mebbe ketch one, mebbe not. Too swift, have too much wind.”
“Well, we can try,” laughed the doctor.
The camp was excited, to-night, with the thought of catching wild horses. The men busied themselves tying nooses in their picket ropes.
“But we haven’t a critter that could ketch a badger,” John Sparks complained; “unless it be the doctor’s black an’ that yaller pony o’ Stub’s.”
Stub doubted very much whether his yellow pony would amount to anything, in racing wild horses. The Pawnees always used two or three horses, each, so as to tire the wild horses out.
However, the lieutenant was bound to try. In the morning he picked out the six best horses, which included the yellow pony, and appointed the riders. They were himself, the doctor, Baroney, soldier John Sparks, soldier Freegift Stout, and Stub. Only Baroney and Stub had seen wild horses chased before.
All the camp, except the camp guards, followed. The wild horses were in about the same place, a mile distant. They waited, curious, pawing and snorting and speaking to the tame horses, until within short bow shot, or forty steps. On a sudden they wheeled.
“After ’em!” the lieutenant shouted.