The miles intervening between them and a prospective meal grew less and less. West, riding ahead, scanned the grazing herds at either side in a desultory manner. Suddenly he brought Eagle to a stop, raised himself up in the stirrups, and, with his hand shading his eyes, gazed intently across the range. Quickly he turned. “Jim, over there near the stream is that scrub bull of Savaeau’s! Get your rope ready and come with me! You keep Mauchacho here,” to the girl, who was now wide-eyed, and wondered what was going to happen.
With difficulty she restrained her horse, who was bent on following the fleeing companions. Bess released her feet from the stirrups and sprang quickly to the ground to hold the animal by the bit; and by patting and talking softly to him succeeded in quieting him.
Over the green expanse sped the two horsemen. West bent low over his horse’s neck, riding madly. A rise in the ground for a moment concealed them, when up they shot, like two huge birds.
The herd had already seen the oncoming men, and instinctively felt that harm was approaching. With a loud snort and his tail in the air, the leader galloped over the range, followed by all the other cattle. On came the horses, now charged with excitement and knowledge of what was coming. James swerved to the right and artfully separated the bull from the rest of the herd. When the creature discovered he was divided from the other cattle, he turned swiftly and unexpectedly, which nearly resulted in throwing James from his horse. West had ridden across from the herd, and with his rope already swinging in the air would have captured the animal then and there had he not hesitated when he saw that James was nearly unseated. The hesitancy gave the animal a fresh start and on he ran and ran, ever evading his pursuers. Snorting horses and relentless pursuers drove him from every shelter. Each man knew that the only way to capture him would be to tire him out.
Bess was still standing at her horse’s head, engrossed in watching the distant chase. They were so far away that at times she could not distinguish the men. At first she was excited, but as she saw the persistent pursuit and the vain attempt the animal made to reach a place of safety, she felt a wave of indignation surge over her and fill her with hot anger. Stamping her foot upon the ground, she cried out in vain: “Oh, you two horrid men! Leave that poor creature alone! What will you do when you do capture him? Murder him, of course! James, have you lost all your sense, to follow that—that—Indian! Yes, that is all you are now—an Indian thirsting for the blood of your victim!”
She burst into uncontrollable tears and hid her face against her horse’s neck, to shut out the vision of the tragedy. Mauchacho bent his head and touched his mistress with his nose, as if trying to console her. Could he have spoken he would have explained that these things were a part of Western life; how it was impossible to tolerate low-bred stock; how this affair would seem all right when she became accustomed to the ways and laws of the range.
So the girl stood, for ages it seemed to her, until she heard the approach of the horses. She did not lift her head when they came up, and West saw that she had been sorely affected by witnessing the capture.
In a soft, low voice he said: “I’m very sorry, Miss Bess, that this circumstance occurred just as it did. It was unavoidable.”
The girl wheeled, with a storm of reproof upon her lips; but as she saw his seriousness, her parted lips closed slowly, and she left unsaid what she thought to say. She shuddered at the remnant of blood stains which she saw upon his hands and bespattered white silk shirt, and springing into the saddle turned her horse away with an unreasoning jerk.
James saw her displeasure and only aggravated it by saying that she would grow accustomed to such things if she stayed in the cattle country.