There was something in Bannister's riding that caught Helen's
fancy at once. It was the unconscious grace of the man, the ease
with which he seemed to make himself a very part of the horse. He
attempted no tricks, rode without any flourishes. But the perfect
poise of his lithe body as it gave with the motions of the horse,
proclaimed him a born rider; so finished, indeed, that his very
ease seemed to discount the performance. Steamboat had a
malevolent red eye that glared hatred at the oppressor man, and
to-day it lived up to its reputation of being the most vicious
and untamed animal on the frontier. But, though it did its best
to unseat the rider and trample him underfoot, there was no
moment when the issue seemed in doubt save once. The horse flung
itself backward in a somersault, risking its own neck in order to
break its master's. But he was equal to the occasion; and when
Steamboat staggered again to its feet Bannister was still in the
saddle. It was a daring and magnificent piece of horsemanship,
and, though he was supposed to be a desperado and a ruffian, his
achievement met with a breathless gasp, followed by thunderous
applause.
The battle between horse and man was on again, for the animal was
as strong almost in courage as the rider.
Pages:
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197