But the confident and “devil-may-care” look upon his face reassured them, and they had confidence in him.
The white looked to the girdle which was around his horse, and as the Indian had no bridle on his horse, Barry took his off.
The Indian was to show lead, now.
He was mounted on his horse, and at a signal from the head chief he dashed out upon the plain.
The mane of his horse was long, and had been plaited.
One of these plaits served to rest his arm in, and he performed all sorts of tricks, sliding around his horse and coming up on the other side, and picking up things from the ground.
At length he put on the bridle and went through the last thing on his programme. This consisted of standing up on the horse bare-back, holding on with the bridle and jumping up and down. The Comanche did all of these things with a great deal of skill, and when he rode into the crowd he was greeted by a chorus of savage yells. The Indians were delighted.
Of course the pale-face could do nothing like this.
Imagine their surprise and chagrin when they saw him dash out and go through the same thing as easily as the Indian had done, and with extremely aggravating nonchalance.
It was now his turn to lead.