CHAPTER VIII.
A CLOSE FINISH.
"Boys, you'll have to go and hunt those spare mules to-morrow; they haven't been seen for a week." Thus Mr. Worth greeted the boys as they came shuffling in after a long day of mingled work and play one evening not long after the buffalo hunt.
The following morning the youngsters mounted their horses, after completing their early chores, and started out. "Where shall we go?" asked Ben.
"Let's look among the Indians' ponies; those mules are always following their cayuses around." The plan was no sooner made than executed. They trotted along the edge of the river for several miles, the crisp morning air acting like a tonic on horse and rider. Baldy was too old and dignified to be foolish, but his springy stride, wide-awake look, and quick response to each word of urging betokened his good condition and enjoyment. Ben's horse, a little bunchy cow pony with an occasional wicked streak in him, danced about as if he were worked by electricity and the current was being turned on and off.
The ford reached, the ponies waded in till the boys had to cross their legs in front of the saddles to keep from getting wet.
On the other side they found a bunch of a couple of hundred horses, and as they drew near the herders came charging down on them. They feared horse thieves, but John explained matters, and after a long sign-language talk learned that there were six of the long-eared runaways tied at the camp. They had been put there for safe keeping, since they had been killing colts and were in danger of being roughly used by the horses in consequence. A grown "pony," though generally smaller, will drive out a mule in short order, and these plucky little animals are never afraid to tackle their vicious antagonists.