Всадник без головы/Headless horseman (Томас Рид). Страница 101 из 662

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The

sun

,

looking

down

from

the

zenith

,

gave

light

to

a

singular

tableau

.

A

herd

of

wild

mares

going

at

reckless

speed

across

the

prairie

;

one

of

their

own

kind

,

with

a

lady

upon

its

back

,

following

about

four

hundred

yards

behind

;

at

a

like

distance

after

the

lady

,

a

steed

of

red

bay

colour

,

bestridden

by

a

cavalier

picturesquely

attired

,

and

apparently

intent

upon

overtaking

her

;

still

further

to

the

rear

a

string

of

mounted

men

--

some

in

civil

,

some

in

military

,

garb

;

behind

these

a

troop

of

dragoons

going

at

full

gallop

,

having

just

parted

from

a

mixed

group

of

ladies

and

gentlemen

--

also

mounted

,

but

motionless

,

on

the

plain

,

or

only

stirring

around

the

same

spot

with

excited

gesticulations

!

In

twenty

minutes

the

tableau

was

changed

.

The

same

personages

were

upon

the

stage

--

the

grand

tapis

vert

of

the

prairie

--

but

the

grouping

was

different

,

or

,

at

all

events

,

the

groups

were

more

widely

apart

.

The

manada

had

gained

distance

upon

the

spotted

mustang

;

the

mustang

upon

the

blood

bay

;

and

the

blood

bay

--

ah

!

his

competitors

were

no

longer

in

sight

,

or

could

only

have

been

seen

by

the

far-piercing

eye

of

the

caracara

,

soaring

high

in

the

sapphire

heavens

The

wild

mares

--

the

mustang

and

its

rider

--

the

red

horse

,

and

his

--

had

the

savanna

to

themselves

!

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For

another

mile

the

chase

continued

,

without

much

change

.

The

mares

still

swept

on

in

full

flight

,

though

no

longer

screaming

or

in

fear

.

The

mustang

still

uttered

an

occasional

neigh

,

which

its

old

associates

seemed

not

to

notice

;

while

its

rider

held

her

seat

in

the

saddle

unshaken

,

and

without

any

apparent

alarm

.

The

blood

bay

appeared

more

excited

,

though

not

so

much

as

his

master

;

who

was

beginning

to

show

signs

either

of

despondency

or

chagrin

.

"

Come

,

Castro

!

"

he

exclaimed

,

with

a

certain

spitefulness

of

tone

.

"

What

the

deuce

is

the

matter

with

your

heels

--

to-day

of

all

others

?

Remember

,

you

overtook

her

before

--

though

not

so

easily

,

I

admit

.

But

now

she

's

weighted

.

Look

yonder

,

you

dull

brute

!

Weighted

with

that

which

is

worth

more

than

gold

--

worth

every

drop

of

your

blood

,

and

mine

too

.

The

yegua

pinta

seems

to

have

improved

her

paces

.

Is

it

from

training

;

or

does

a

horse

run

faster

when

ridden

?

"

What

if

I

lose

sight

of

her

?

In

truth

,

it

begins

to

look

queer

!

It

would

be

an

awkward

situation

for

the

young

lady

.

Worse

than

that

--

there

's

danger

in

it

--

real

danger

.

If

I

should

lose

sight

of

her

,

she

'd

be

in

trouble

to

a

certainty

!

"

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Thus

muttering

,

Maurice

rode

on

:

his

eyes

now

fixed

upon

the

form

still

flitting

away

before

him

;

at

intervals

interrogating

,

with

uneasy

glances

,

the

space

that

separated

him

from

it

.

Up

to

this

time

he

had

not

thought

of

hailing

the

rider

of

the

runaway

.

His

shouts

might

have

been

heard

;

but

no

words

of

warning

,

or

instruction

.

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