Part 18 (2/2)
”Well,” murmured Bess, ”I certainly do not intend to ride horseback when I am asleep.”
Nan chose for herself a cunning little fat pony, with brown and white patches and a pink nose. In the East it would have been called a calico pony; but Rhoda called it a pinto.
The Eastern girls were just a little doubtful of their mounts, because their tails and ears were always twitching and they seemed quite unable to ”make their feet behave.”
”Mine is just as nervous as I am,” confessed Bess, as she gathered up the reins. ”If he starts as quick as Walter's does, I know I shall be thrown as high as the cow jumped--over the moon.”
”Have no fear, Elizabeth,” advised Nan. ”Try to copy Rhoda, and you'll stick on all right.”
”Oh, I'll be a regular copy-cat,” promised her chum. ”I don't wish to be carried back to Tillbury in pieces.”
The little cavalcade started off from the corrals in good order.
They went past the house and waved their hands to Mrs. Janeway and shouted a greeting to Rhoda's mother. Then the ranch girl led them at a fast canter toward the west.
When Walter saw the small rifle tucked into a case under Rhoda's knee he expressed the wish that he had brought his own rifle West.
”Do you know, I never thought of it! You're not expecting to shoot Indians, are you, Rhoda?” he said jokingly.
”You never can tell,” she replied, smiling. ”But they say I am a pretty good shot. I don't expect to shoot an Indian.”
”I can shoot, too,” said Grace quickly. ”Walter taught me last year.”
”Mercy! what did you shoot with, Grace?” demanded Bess. ”A squirt-gun?”
”A pistol and Walter's rifle. I know I'm awfully scared of 'em, but I wanted to know which was the more dangerous end of a gun.”
”Bravo!” cried Nan, laughing.
”Why, if you want, I can supply you all with firearms,” said Rhoda.
”There are plenty at the ranch. And the boys most always lug around a 'gat,' as they call 'em, because of the coyotes.”
”Oh, dear me! are they dangerous?” demanded Grace.
”The coyotes? Only to stray calves and lame cattle. We seldom see anything more dangerous. And as long as you are on horseback you are perfectly safe, anyway, even from a lion.”
”There she goes talking about lions again,” murmured Bess. ”I feel as though I were on the African veldt.”
”Let's all learn how to use firearms,” said Nan eagerly. ”Why shouldn't we?”
”Why, Nan Sherwood! you have the instincts of a desperado,”
declared her chum. ”I can see that.”
”I want to do just as the Western girls do while I am here,” said Nan.
”So I, I presume,” Rhoda queried, ”should wish to do just as the Eastern girls do when I am at Lakeview?”
”Well, you'd get along better,” Nan argued, quite seriously.
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