The Big Hunt (Calamity Jane 12) by J.T. Edson

The Big Hunt (Calamity Jane 12) by J.T. Edson

Author:J.T. Edson [J.T. Edson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gunslingers, calamity jane, buffalo hunter, piccadilly publishing, pulp westerns, westerns ebook, westerns 1800s, jt edson westerns, texas westerns
Publisher: Piccadilly
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Nine – A Nice Day for Killing

At first Beryl felt just a little afraid as the horse tore out of town with her on its back. Not blind panic, but merely a normal fear which could be kept under control. With the bit firmly between its teeth, Beryl had no way of stopping the paint.

However, she soon found that it did not rush blindly along, endangering itself and the rider. Instead it ran as a wild animal fleeing from something unpleasant, fast but alert for anything which might cause it to injure itself. The speed at which the paint ran made falling off its back impracticable; even if Beryl had considered taking that way out. Not that she did, coming from a stock which did not lightly flinch from danger. Once she knew that the horse was not in a wild blind flight, she settled down to keep her seat and enjoy the ride.

Kerry urged his gray after the paint, but soon knew he could not close the gap on the lighter-loaded animal until it tired. Booting the carbine, he concentrated on keeping the gap between them from enlarging and followed ready to lend a hand should Beryl find herself in difficulties.

On they went, tearing out over the rolling, open range. Kerry could not help admiring the girl’s riding skill, especially when the paint went down a steep incline. Bounding out at the bottom, the horse lit down running. For a moment Beryl tilted dangerously, but by that time she had adjusted herself to riding astride and found no difficulty in regaining her seat. Dropping from his saddle, Kerry slid down the slope alongside the gray and re-mounted when they reached the bottom.

Not for three miles did the paint show any sign of slackening its pace. At last Kerry called up a burst of reserve speed from the gray and drew alongside the paint. He expected to see fear or concern on the girl’s face; but read only exhilaration and excitement as she flashed a surprised but delighted smile at him. Edging his gray closer to Beryl’s mount, Kerry leaned over. He reached out and his fingers closed on the paint’s head-stall.

With a firm grip on the other animal, Kerry slowed his horse and brought both to a gradual halt.

“Are you all right?” he asked and jumped to the ground.

“Fine,” she replied, eyes sparkling and bosom heaving. Tossing her right leg across the saddle, she slipped down and landed before the hunter. “I was a little frightened at first, but that soon passed. Then when I found he wasn’t running blind, I sat back and enjoyed the ride—not that I could have stopped him.”

Turning, she ran a hand along the horse’s lathered neck. Without needing any instructions, she set to work cooling down the paint. After watching her for a moment, Kerry decided she could manage and attended to the gray.

“You must think I’m an absolute horror, Kerry,” Beryl remarked, when the horses had been cooled down and they prepared to walk some of the way back to town.



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