The Devil's Highway by Stan Applegate

Author:Stan Applegate [Applegate, Stan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781561458516
Publisher: Peachtree Publishers
Published: 1998-01-28T16:00:00+00:00

“These are not officially army horses. They’re not branded. If you lose, however, you will have to replace the horse.”

The sergeant seemed a little less sure of himself. But Zeb wasn’t a horse trader’s grandson for nothing. He smiled as if he were sorry for the sergeant. “Course,” he said, “if what you were saying was just a lot of wind…. Maybe you don’t know how to ride as well as you thought.”

The men stopped what they were doing to watch the sergeant’s reaction.

The sergeant glared at Zeb. “I’ll take the wager!” he hissed. “That horse against all of your provisions, your pistols, and the rifle…. And throw in your saddle, too. The wager is that you can’t stay on for more than five minutes!”

The sergeant already had Zeb’s two pistols in his belt. The saddle wouldn’t make much difference if he lost the bet. He suddenly had second thoughts. If he lost, he and Hannah would be traveling with no gear at all, no protection. He wished he could withdraw the bet—or at least part of it. Harlequin was always unpredictable. He had ridden the horse every day for more than a year, and every day it was a battle until the horse decided to give up and behave. Maybe Grampa was right. He took too many chances. He looked up to see Hannah watching him. She seemed very confident. He shrugged. “Done!” he said.

Zeb turned back to the horse and began to talk to him quietly. The sergeant snorted. “He talks to horses like a Choctaw. He’ll be great in the U.S. Army.”

Zeb ignored him. He continued to talk in a low voice while stroking Harlequin’s muzzle. He moved his hand slowly down the horse’s neck to the withers. Just as he expected, Harlequin jumped sideways, kicking out a hind foot and skittering forward. Zeb held onto the reins as the horse made a circle around him.

The sergeant was laughing at him. “What’s the matter, boy? You afraid of that horse?”

Zeb put his left hand on the horse’s back. Harlequin was so much smaller than Christmas, mounting was going to be easy. Staying on might be the problem, though. It was hard to know what the poor horse had been through with the sergeant.

He pressed down with his left hand. As the horse shifted and began to move forward, Zeb vaulted on.

The little horse tried all of his usual tricks, jumping sideways, bucking, and twisting. He ran as close to a tree as he could and tried to scrape Zeb off. His choppy and irregular gait kept Zeb bouncing on his back. Zeb just chuckled and relaxed. He talked quietly to him. “Thatta boy. Good boy. What a clown you are!”

The little horse decided to behave. Zeb could feel Harlequin’s muscles relax. He squeezed his knees, to let Harlequin know he was in charge, and then Zeb walked him quickly around the clearing. Harlequin lengthened his pace, picking up his feet. Zeb sat erect, his hands soft, his only movement a slight twisting of his hips, matching the horse’s rhythm.

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