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Chanerodeacrosstherollingupland,keepingsharp
lookoutalongtheridgethatManerubewouldcross
ifhehadventuredtowardtheIndiancamp.Therewas,
however,nosignofhorsesinthatdirection.
“Reckonitwasabluff,”declaredChane,withrelief.
InspiteofMcPherson’shint,hedidnotentertain
averyhighregardforManerube’scourage.
Circlingtothesouth,Chaneatlengthreachedthe
riseofgroundrunningalongashallowleague-wide
valley,grayandpurplewithsage,spottedwithrocks
andcedars,andanimatedbymovinghorses.Toddy
Nokinandhisbravesweredrivinginthelastofthe
mustangsChanehadbargainedfor.Thispleased
Chane,forsomeofthesehadbeenrangingPiute
Canyon,adeeplonggorge,accessiblebybutfew
trails.
Brutussawthemovingdotsbelowandliftedhishead
high,hisearserect.ThenChaneputhimtoalope
downthegradualdescent.Itsoonbecameevident
toChanethatthishorsedidnotneedtobeguided,
exceptpossiblyinexceedinglybadground.The
sagebrushdidnotbotherBrutusanymorethan
ifithadnotbeenthere.Hecrashedthroughit;andthe
littlewashesandrutsintheredearth,thatsometimes
trippedanordinaryhorse,apparentlywerethesame
toBrutusaslevelground.Hishoofsweresobig,his
legssostrong,hisdexterityandjudgmentsogood,that
itseemedsafetoridehimanywhereahorsecouldrun.
Downinthecenterofthisovalbowllayanatural
corral,alongnarrowspaceofthebestpastureland,
barredontwosidesbylowstonewallsthatcame
toanapexattheheadofthedepression,andshutoff
atitsmouthandwidestpartbyacedarfence.Even
atdryseasonstherewasalwayswaterinthedeephole
intherockswherethewallsmet;andatthistimethere
wasarunningstream.ChanearrivedasToddyNokin
andhisIndiansweredrivingabunchofmustangsinto
thiscorral.
Chanerodeinsidetotakealookatthesemustangs.
