The Texan Scouts | Page 2

the omens with
alarm. He knew what they portended, and in all that vast wilderness he
was alone. Not a human being to share the danger with him! Not a hand
to help!
He looked for chaparral, something that might serve as a sort of shelter,
but he had left the last clump of it behind, and now he turned and rode
directly north, hoping that he might find some deep depression between
the swells where he and his horse, in a fashion, could hide.
Meanwhile the Norther came down with astonishing speed. The
temperature fell like a plummet. The moan of the wind rose to a shriek,
and cold clouds of dust were swept against Ned and his horse. Then
snow mingled with the dust and both beat upon them. Ned felt his horse
shivering under him, and he shivered, too, despite his will. It had turned
so dark that he could no longer tell where he was going, and he used
the wide brim of his hat to protect himself from the sand.
Soon it was black as night, and the snow was driving in a hurricane.
The wind, unchecked by forest or hill, screamed with a sound almost
human. Ned dismounted and walked in the lee of his horse. The animal
turned his head and nuzzled his master, as if he could give him warmth.
Ned hoped that the storm would blow itself out in an hour or two, but
his hope was vain. The darkness did not abate. The wind rose instead of
falling, and the snow thickened. It lay on the plain several inches deep,
and the walking grew harder. At last the two, the boy and the horse,
stopped. Ned knew that they had come into some kind of a depression,

and the full force of the hurricane passed partly over their heads.
It was yet very dark, and the driving snow scarcely permitted him to
open his eyes, but by feeling about a little he found that one side of the
dip was covered with a growth of dwarf bushes. He led the horse into
the lower edge of these, where some protection was secured, and,
crouching once more in the lee of the animal, he unfolded the two
blankets, which he wrapped closely about himself to the eyes.
Ned, for the first time since the Norther rushed down upon him, felt
secure. He would not freeze to death, he would escape the fate that
sometimes overtook lone hunters or travelers upon those vast plains.
Warmth from the blankets began gradually to replace the chill in his
bones, and the horse and the bushes together protected his face from the
driven snow which had been cutting like hail. He even had, in some
degree, the sense of comfort which one feels when safe inside four
walls with a storm raging past the windows. The horse whinnied once
and rubbed his nose against Ned's hand. He, too, had ceased to shiver.
All that afternoon the Norther blew with undiminished violence. After
a while the fall of snow thinned somewhat, but the wind did not
decrease. Ned was devoutly thankful for the dip and the bushes that
grew within it. Nor was he less thankful for the companionship of his
horse. It was a good horse, a brave horse, a great bay mustang, built
powerfully and with sinews and muscles of steel. He had secured him
just after taking part in the capture of San Antonio with his comrades,
Obed White and the Ring Tailed Panther, and already the tie between
horse and rider had become strong and enduring. Ned stroked him
again, and the horse, twisting his neck around, thrust his nose under his
arm.
"Good old boy! Good fellow!" said Ned, pinching his ear. "We were
lucky, you and I, to find this place."
The horse neighed ever so gently, and rubbed his nose up and down.
After a while the darkness began to increase. Ned knew that it was not
a new development of the storm, but the coming of night, and he grew
anxious again. He and his horse, however secure at the present moment,

could not stay always in that dip among the bushes. Yet he did not dare
to leave it. Above on the plain they would receive the full sweep of the
wind, which was still bitterly cold.
He was worn by the continued buffetings of blast and snow, but he did
not dare to lie down, even in the blankets, lest he never wake again, and
while he considered he saw darker shadows in the darkness above him.
He gazed, all attention, and counted ten shadows, following one
another, a dusky file. He knew by the set of their figures, short and
stocky, that they were Mexicans, and his