He'd had plenty of experience in meeting strange bunches that way before which all left him kinda cautious, for many a time he'd left quicker than he'd come and lost some hide to an older stud what was more up to the game of fighting, and he soon learned that it wasn't a wise idea to ram into a strange bunch and go to appropriating mares without first investigating what kind of a leader that bunch had.
He'd got wised up in many ways thru them meetings, and he learned to be some careful. He'd also learned to handle his hoofs and teeth till there hadn't been any stud on that range that'd been able to whip him the last three years—he'd evened up scores.
Smoky hadn't moved, and as the stud still kept a standing in one spot with no indication of wanting to start anything, he got restless. Pretty soon it came to his mind that the stallion was leary of starting anything. It was a big mistake, but Smoky'd had no way of knowing better. The big buckskin did know better and if Smoky had noticed, he'd seen him out there on the far side of the bunch, and willing to keep neutral.
A move from the black stud decided Smoky. He'd stepped close to his mammy and nostril to nostril was exchanging sniffs with her when she let out a squeal and struck at him, all of which the stallion didn't pay any attention to. But right about then Smoky landed on him, or, at him, for his striking front feet and bared sharp teeth missed him, missed him just enough to be a clean miss.
Smoky had never reckoned with the fighting qualities of a stallion, and he couldn't figger out how it was he'd struck just thin air when he was so sure his enemy had been right there in front of him and within easy reaching distance, and what's more that puzzled him was that the stallion never offered to show fight when he landed at him so furious, instead he'd just got out of the way of his rush, kept his ears ahead, and went on sizing up the bunch the same as if nothing had happened. Smoky felt like he hadn't even been noticed, and the actions of the stud had said plainer than words "fool kid."
A swift kick in the ribs couldn't of done any better towards putting Smoky down a peg or two, and that simple quick move of the stud's went a long ways to show what could of happened if he'd been in mind to fight. All that left Smoky kinda uncertain as to how to proceed, he didn't know whether to go back and try it again or let things rest for a spell till another chance showed up.
In the meantime the black stud had found out that there was none in that bunch he'd need to watch, and head down to the ground, ears back, he started cutting out the geldings, keeping the mares and fillies to put in with the bunch he already had. That was a harder job than it might sound here, for none of the geldings wanted to be cut out of the bunch they'd been with so long, and even tho they went out easy enough they'd turn back as the stud would be cutting out another and would have to be headed off and cut out again and again.
Then the big buckskin which had been neutral all this time finally got riled up at being separated from the mares that way and when the stud headed for him he stood his ground. A few seconds more and there was buckskin and black hair a sailing in the air, then hoofs a pounding away which would of kept up with machine-gun fire for speed, only the pounding wasn't sounding so sharp it was hitting something solid, and there wasn't many misses.
Finally out of the dust that was stirred there came a streak of buckskin and right close to it was a streak of black, away from the herd they went, and pretty soon the black stud came back shaking his head the same as to let every horse know that he wasn't going to stand for no foolishness.
There was one more to be put out of the bunch, he was that mouse colored gelding, Smoky. He'd got in while the stud was chasing away the buckskin, he'd stood alongside his mammy and watched the fight, and there was a light in his eyes that showed he was ready to start another battle if it was necessary, but he sure wasn't going to be put out without he was convinced it could be done,—he wasn't built that way.