Then they fired the grass in several places, and
it sent a rolling sheet of flame and smoke into the thicket. There was
a crackling louder than the fire, a smashing of brush, and from the
farther side out hurled the Monarch Bear, the Gringo, Grizzly Jack.
Horsemen were all about him now, armed not with guns but with the
rawhide snakes whose loops in air spell bonds or death. The men were
calm, but the horses were snorting and plunging in fear. This way and
that the Grizzly looked up at the horsemen--a little bit; scarcely up
at the horses; then turning without haste, he strode toward the
friendly hills.
"Look out, now, Bill! Manuel! It's up to you."
Oh, noble horses, nervy men! oh, grand old Grizzly, how I see you now!
Cattle-keepers and cattle-killer face to face!
Three riders of the range that horse had never thrown were sailing,
swooping, like falcons; their lariats swung, sang--sang higher--and
Monarch, much perplexed, but scarcely angered yet, rose to his hind
legs, then from his towering height looked down on horse and man. If,
as they say, the vanquished prowess goes into the victor, then surely
in that mighty chest, those arms like necks of bulls, was the power of
the thousand cattle he had downed in fight.
"Caramba! what a Bear! Pedro was not so far astray."
"Sing--sing--sing!" the lariats flew. "Swish--pat!" one, two, three,
they fell. These were not men to miss.
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