Читать книгу Buffalo Bill, the Border King; Or, Redskin and Cowboy онлайн

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The black horse, on which Buffalo Bill had ridden so many times, but which he had now been obliged to abandon because of its age and the fact that he had been ridden too hard on one or two occasions, missed its master. It had seen Buffalo Bill and his companion ride out of the fort, and it desired to follow. Perhaps the horse did not approve of the Indian that now backed him.

However it was, it danced about a good deal, and champed at the bit, and seemed to give the stoical chief considerable trouble. Twice it started for the gate, and the soldiers headed it off. Likewise Oak Heart drew it in hard with his hand on the bridle. It seemed as though the chief had no expectation of leaving the fort until his white captors were ready.

But that was all the savage cunning of the chief. It was his cunning, too, perhaps, that made the horse so nervous. He doubtless slyly spurred him with his toe or heel, and kept the animal on the qui vive all the time.

Oak Heart could follow Buffalo Bill and Texas Jack with his eyes, and he doubtless understood—now, at least—just what they were about. Suddenly the White Antelope came into view, riding like the wind down upon the two scouts. Oak Heart’s face did not change a muscle, but just then his mount made a sidelong leap, and when he became manageable again the black charger was just within the open gateway.