iful; that the sun was shining in
a cloudless sky, the south wind sweet and fresh, buds in the willow.

* * * * *

The peace was rent and shivered by strange sounds, as of a giant falling
downstairs. There was a crash of breaking boughs beyond the canyon, a
glint of color, a swift black body hurtling madly through the
shrubbery. The girl shrank back. There was no time for thought, hardly
for alarm. On the farther verge the bushes parted; an apparition hurled
arching through the sunshine, down the sheer hill--a glorious and
acrobatic horse, his black head low between his flashing feet; red
nostrils wide with rage and fear; foam flecks white on the black
shoulders; a tossing mane; a rider, straight and tall, superb--to all
seeming an integral part of the horse, pitch he never so wildly.

The girl held her breath through the splintered seconds. She thrilled at
the shock and storm of them, straining muscles and white hoofs,
lurching, stumbling, sliding, lunging, careening in perilous arcs. She
saw stones that rolled with them or bounded after; a sombrero whirled
above the dust and tumult like a dilatory parachute; a six-shooter
jolted up into the air. Through the dust-clouds there were glimpses of a
watchful face, hair blown back above it; a broken rein snapped beside
it, saddle-strings streamed out behind; a supple body that swung from
curve to easy curve against shock and plunge, that swayed and poised and
clung, and held its desperate dominion still. The saddle slipped
forward; with a motion incredibly swift, as a hat is whipped off in a
gust of wind, it whisked over withers and neck and was under the furious
feet. Swifter, the rider! Cat-quick, he swerved, lit on his feet, leaped
aside.

Alas, oh, rider beyond compare, undefeated champion, Pride of Rainbow!
Alas, that such thing should be recorded! He leaped aside to shun the
black frantic death at his shoulder; his feet were in the treacherous
vines: he toppled, grasped vainly at an acacia, catapulted out and down,
head first; so lit, crumpled and fell with a prodigious splash into the
waters of the pool! _Ay di mi, Alhama!_

The blankets lay strewn along the hill; but observe that the long lead
rope of the hackamore (a "hackamore," properly _jaquima_, is, for your
better understanding, merely a rope halter) was coiled at the
saddle-horn, held there by a stout hornstring. As the black reached the
level the saddle was at his heels. To