They all laughed. They were in a mood to find even trifles amusing. There was not a cloud in that wonderful sky; the blue was almost too radiantly deep. There was a clearness in the air which rendered the distant mountains closely visible, and the expanse which lay between them and these hills of delight seemed less a solitude than did that central plain, marked by its one line of shining steel.
“Behold, my friends! We go out—paupers; we return—millionaires!” declared Jack, proudly strutting beside his “team.” These four venerable “campaigners,” who had been chosen because of their familiarity with plain and mountain life, were the first horses with which he had ever been familiar. The days of his parents’ former wanderings a-field had been too early for him to recall.
“Hmm. That front beast on the left has a spavin,” remarked Carlos, musingly.
“Huh! What’s that? Spavin! Spavin! I’d have you understand, young Trot-and-go-barefoot, you—that what I don’t know about horseflesh isn’t worth knowing.”
Carlos looked on, questioningly. He rarely knew whether Jack were jesting or in earnest; but, either way, he found that having a boy companion was so delightful that he was inclined to rather neglect Carlota, with whom his time had always been passed. At that same moment, up came Dennis, riding a vicious little beast which was doing its utmost to unseat the unaccustomed horseman.
“Dennis! Dennis, on a broncho!” cried young Burnham, stopping his leader’s progress, to await this fresh arrival. “We thought you had petered out, Dennis, me friend! Sickened of the job and gone back to straightening the ties. Where did you get that nag, eh? and what are you doing with that unhappy burro?”
“Whoa, I tell ye! Whist! to the heels of ye! So, so. Yes, I know, I know. There, there! Quiet, me beautiful boy! So, so—so-o!”
The wild little horse had been nearly maddened by the treatment of its new owner. It had been checked up till its neck was half-twisted out of shape, while a facetious trackman had persuaded Dennis to put on spurs of an exaggerated size.
As soon as the broncho neared the other horses it quieted its movements and, as if to give the children a chance to contemplate its rider in all his glory, planted its forefeet firmly in the sand and stood stock-still.
“Och! Dennis, me boy! Sure ’tis yourself that’s magnificent, entirely!” mocked Jack, clapping his hands to his breast with a tragic air.