Grant; always excepting this lovely creature
beneath me, whom I can't make out and who doesn't seem to care that I
should. There! look! I told you so!"
Her mustang had suddenly bounded forward; but as Grant followed he
could see that the cause was the example of Phemie, who had, in some
mad freak, dashed out in a frantic gallop. A half-dozen of the
younger people hilariously accepted the challenge; the excitement was
communicated to the others, until the whole cavalcade was sweeping
down the slope. Grant was still at Mrs. Ashwood's side, restraining
her mustang and his own impatient horse when Clementina joined them.
"Phemie's mare has really bolted, I fear," she said in a quick whisper,
"ride on, and never mind us." Grant looked quickly ahead; Phemie's roan,
excited by the shouts behind her and to all appearance ungovernable, was
fast disappearing with her rider. Without a word, trusting to his own
good horsemanship and better knowledge of the ground, he darted out of
the cavalcade to overtake her.
But the unfortunate result of this was to give further impulse to the
now racing horses as they approached a point where the slope terminated
in two diverging canyons. Mrs. Ashwood gave a sharp pull upon her
bit. To her consternation the mustang stopped short almost
instantly,--planting his two fore feet rigidly in the dust and even
sliding forward with the impetus.
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