"Flower, Jessie Graham - Grace Harlowe - Overland Riders 01 - Grace Harlowe's Overland Riders On the Great American Desert" - читать интересную книгу автора (Flower Jessie Graham)

leaped clear of it, coming down stiff-legged with a jolt that jarred Grace
Harlowe throughout her body in spite of her effort to soften the shock by
throwing most of her weight on the stirrups.
"He's going to buck," warned the steady voice of Hi Lang.
Grace knew it in advance of the guide's warning, but, though she tugged with all
her might, she was not strong enough to get the black bronco's head up so he
could not carry out his intention. There followed a series of bucks and squeals,
accompanied with flying hoofs, that sent the spectators fleeing for safety.
As for the Overland girl, her head was spinning, her hair was down and her
sombrero long since had fallen off and been trampled in the alkali dust by the
hoofs of her mount. The jolting she was getting was almost more than she could
endure and sharp pains were shooting through her body. This bronco indeed was a
master at the art of bucking, but vicious as were his movements the black had
not succeeded in ridding himself of his rider.
"Look out!" yelled the guide.
All four feet went from under the pony and he struck the ground on his side with
a force that brought a grunt from him. In the cloud of dust the spectators
thought that Grace had been caught under the horse and crashed. Emma Dean
uttered a cry of alarm, and Nora Wingate turned her head away that she might not
see.
"She's all right!" shouted Hiram Lang, who had sprung forward to give assistance
if it were needed.
The pony had thrown itself on its right side. Mr. Lang found Grace sitting
calmly on the side of the saddle, free of the body of the horse, but breathing
heavily. Her quickness had been the means of her disengaging herself as the
bronco threw himself to the ground.
After giving the black a few seconds on his side, the Overland Rider brought her
crop down on his rump with a vicious whack. It stung. Like a flash the pony was
on his feet, with Grace's feet now planted firmly in the stirrups.
As Grace had expected, the bucking was resumed the instant the pony felt the
smart of the crop. How the dust did fly then, and how those cowboy wranglers did
yell!
"Who's a tenderfoot!" howled Hippy Wingate. "Just watch her smoke."
Grace Harlowe's whole body was weary, but her grit was not diminishing in the
least. However, she decided that the time had arrived when she must do a little
fighting for herself, and not leave it all to the pony, so, having arrived at
this decision, Grace watched narrowly for a favorable opportunity to begin.
The opportunity came a few seconds later when the horse threw up his head
preparatory to pitching forward in another series of savage bucks. Grace jerked
the animal's head to one side, brought her quirt down sharply, and, at the same
time, jabbed the little black fighter with her spurs.
She continued to apply this treatment for several seconds until the bronco,
goaded to a change of tactics, whirled and started away at a run, driving
straight through the assembled crowd. The crowd fled for their lives with Grace
unable now to do more than stay on the saddle.
The black had not gone far before he stopped as suddenly as he had started,
stopped stiff-legged, braced himself and slid on his feet through the alkali for
several yards.
Grace Harlowe had been alert for this very thing, but just the same the
suddenness of the move had nearly unhorsed her. As it was she fell forward on