For a moment none of the cowboys made a move. They were too frightened at what might happen to Trouble. If it had been one of their own friends who had gone into the corral where the dangerous bronco was standing, they would have known what to do.
They would have called for him to "Look out!" and the cowboy would have kept away from the animal. But it was different with Trouble. To him one horse was like another. He liked them all, and he never thought any of them would kick or bite him. The bucking bronco was most dangerous of all.
"Oh, Trouble!" exclaimed Janet softly.
"I—I'll get him!" whispered Teddy. "I can crawl in there and run and get him before that bronco—"
"You stay right where you are, Curlytop!" exclaimed Jim Mason. "We don't want you both hurt, and if you go in there now you might start that crazy horse to kicking. Stay where you are. I'll get Trouble for you."
"Maybe if I called to him he'd come," said Janet. She, too, spoke in a whisper. In fact no one had made a noise since Trouble had been seen crawling under the corral fence, close to the bucking bronco.
"No, don't call, Janet," said the foreman. "You might make the bronco give a jump, and then he'd step on your little brother. That horse is a savage one, and he's so excited now, from so many of the cowboys having tried to ride him, that he might break loose and kick Trouble. We've got to keep quiet."
The cowboys seemed to know this, for none of them said a word. They kept very still and watched Trouble.
Baby William thought he was going to have a good time. He had wandered out of the house when his mother was not looking. Seeing Ted, Janet and the cowboys down by the corral, he made up his mind that was the place for him.
"Maybe I get a horse wide," he said to himself, for he was about as eager over horses as his sister or brother, and, so far, the only rides he had had were when he sat in the saddle in front with them or with his father, and went along very slowly indeed. For they dared not let the horse go fast when Trouble was with them, and Trouble wanted to go fast.
"Me go get wide myse'f," he murmured, and then, when no one was looking, he slipped under the corral fence.
He was now toddling close to the heels of the bronco.
"Nice horsie," said Trouble in his sweetest voice. "I get on your back an' have nice wide!"
Trouble always had hard work to sound the r in ride. "Wide" he always called it.
Nearer and nearer he came to the bronco. The animal, without turning its head, knew that someone was coming up behind. Many a time a cowboy had tried to fool the savage horse that way, and leap into the saddle without being seen. But Imp, as the bronco was named, knew all those tricks.
He turned back his ears, and when a horse does that it is not a good sign. Almost always it means he is going to bite or kick.
In this case Imp would have to kick, as Trouble was too far behind to be bitten. And Imp did not seem to care that it was a little boy who was behind, and not a big cowboy. Imp was going to do his worst.
But Jim Mason was getting ready to save Trouble. Going around to the side, where he could not be seen so well, the foreman quickly leaped over the fence. And then he ran swiftly toward Trouble, never saying a word.
The bronco heard the sound of running feet. He turned his head around to see who else was coming to bother him and then, before Imp could do anything and before Trouble could reach and put his little hands on the dangerous heels, the foreman caught up Baby William and jumped back with him, out of the way in case Imp should kick.
And kick Imp did! His heels shot out as he laid his ears farther back on his head and he gave a shrill scream, as horses can when they are angry.
"No you don't! Not this time!" cried Jim Mason, as he ran back to the fence with Trouble. "And you must never go into the corral or near horses again, Trouble! Do you hear?" and the foreman spoke to Baby William as though very angry indeed. But he had to do this, for the little fellow must learn not to go into danger.
"Don't ever go in there again!" said the foreman, as he set Trouble down on the ground in a safe place.
"No, me not go," was the answer, and Baby William's lips quivered as though he were going to cry.
"Well, that's all right, old man!" said the foreman in kind tones. For he loved children and did not even like to hurt their feelings. "I didn't mean to scare you."
But he had scared Trouble, or, rather the sudden catching up of the little fellow and the pony's scream had frightened him, and Janet's baby brother began to cry, hiding his head in her dress.
But, after all, that was the best thing to make Trouble remember that he must not go in the corral, and he had soon forgotten his tears and was laughing at the funny tricks Imp cut up as Jim Mason tried to ride him.
The foreman, after he had carried Trouble safely out of the way, went back in the corral and jumped on the bucking bronco's back. Then Imp did all he could to get the man out of the saddle.
Around and around the corral dashed the cow pony, and when he found that Jim stuck on the horse began jumping up in the air—bucking as the cowboys call it. Even that did not shake the foreman to the ground.
Then, suddenly, the horse fell down. But it was not an accident. He did it on purpose, and then he began to roll over, thinking this, surely, would get that man off his back.
It did. But when Imp tried to roll over on the foreman, to hurt him, Jim Mason just laughed and jumped out of the way. He knew Imp would probably do this and he was ready for him.
Jim watched Imp, and as soon as the bronco stopped rolling and stood up again the foreman jumped into the saddle. This was too much for Imp. He made up his mind he could not get rid of such a good rider, so the horse settled down and galloped around the corral as he ought to do.
"Hurray! Jim rides him after all!" cried some of the cowboys.
"I told you I'd stick to him" said the foreman with a laugh.
"I wish I could ride that way," said Teddy, with a little sigh when Jim came out of the corral and left Imp to have a rest.
"Well, maybe you will some day," said the foreman. "You've got a good start, and there's no better place to learn to ride ponyback than at Ring Rosy Ranch."
One warm, pleasant afternoon, when they had played about the house for some time, amusing themselves at the games they were wont to pass the time with in the East, Jan called to her brother:
"Let's go and take a ride on our ponies!"
"All right," agreed Teddy. "Where'll we go?"
"Oh, not very far. Mother told us we mustn't go very far when we're alone."
"That was before we knew how to ride," declared the little boy. "I guess we ride good enough now to take long rides."
"But not now," insisted Jan. "We'll only go for a little way, or I'm not going to play."
"All right," Teddy agreed. "We won't go very far."
So they went out to the stable where their ponies were kept, and there one of the cowboys kindly saddled Clipclap and Star Face for the little Curlytops. Uncle Frank had given orders to his men that they were to let the children have the ponies whenever it was safe to ride, and this was one of the nicest days of the summer.
"Don't let 'em run away with you!" laughed the cowboy, as he helped Jan and Ted into their saddles.
"Oh, Clipclap and Star Pace won't run away!" declared the little girl. "They're too nice."
"Yes, they are nice ponies," agreed the cowboy. "Well, good-bye and good luck."
Biding up to the house, to tell their mother they were going for a ride, but would keep within sight or calling distance, Ted and Jan were soon guiding their ponies across the prairie.
The children had soon learned to sit well in the saddles, and knew how to guide their ponies. And the little animals were very safe.
"Somehow or other, I don't feel at all worried here when the children are out of my sight—I mean Teddy and Janet," said Mrs. Martin to her husband, when the Curlytops had ridden away.
"Yes, Uncle Frank's ranch does seem a safe place for them," Mr. Martin answered. "Lots of 'down East' people think the West is a dangerous place. Well, maybe it is in spots, but it is very nice here."
On over the prairies rode Teddy and Janet. Now and then the little girl would stop her pony and look back.
"What are you looking for?" Teddy asked. "Do you think Trouble is following us?"
"No, but we mustn't go too far from the house. We must stay in sight of it, mother said."
"Well, we will," promised Ted.
But, after a while, perhaps it was because it was so nice to ride along on the ponies' backs, or because the little animals went faster than Ted or Janet imagined—I don't know just how it did happen, but, all at once, Jan looked back and gave a cry.
"Why, what's the matter, Jan?" asked Teddy.
"We—we're lost!" gasped the little girl. "I can't see Uncle Frank's house anywhere!"
It was true enough. None of the ranch buildings were in sight, and for a moment Ted, too, was frightened. Then as his pony moved on, a little ahead of Jan's, the boy gave a cry of delight.
"There it is! I can see the house!" he said. "We're not lost. We were just down in a hollow I guess."
And so it was. The prairies, though they look level, are made up of little hills and valleys, or hollows. Down in between two hills one might be very near a house and yet not see it.
"Now we're all right," went on Teddy.
"Yes," agreed Janet "We're not lost anymore."
So they rode on a little farther, the ponies now and then stopping to crop a bit of the sweet grass, when, all of a sudden, Teddy, who was still a little ahead of his sister, called:
"Look there, Jan!"
"Where?"
Teddy pointed. His sister saw several men on horseback—at least that is what they looked like—coming toward them. Something about the figures seemed a bit strange to the children. Ted and Jan looked at one another and then back toward the ranch houses, which, they made sure, were not out of sight this time.
"Are they cowboys?" asked Jan of her brother.
"They—they don't just look like 'em," he said. "I mean like Uncle Frank's cowboys."
"That's what I thought," Janet added. "They look like they had blankets on—some of 'em."
She and Teddy sat on their ponies' backs and kept looking at the other figures. They were coming nearer, that was sure, and as they came closer it was more and more certain to the Curlytops that some of the strangers on the horses were wrapped in blankets.
"Oh, I know what they are!" suddenly cried Janet.
"What?"
"In—Indians!" faltered Janet. "Oh, Teddy, if they should be wild Indians!"
"Pooh!" exclaimed Teddy, trying to speak bravely. "Uncle Frank said there weren't any very wild Indians near his ranch."
"Maybe these ones wasn't near the ranch before, but they're coming near now," said Janet, so excited the words tumbled out all mixed-up like. "I'm going home!"
"I—I guess I'll go with you," added Teddy, as he turned his pony's head about. "We'd better tell Uncle Frank the Indians are coming. Maybe they want more of his horses."
"Oh, he won't let 'em have any!" cried Janet. "But they are Indians sure enough!" she went on, as she took a look over her shoulder.
And there was no doubt about it. As the group of riders came closer to the children, whose ponies did not go as fast as the larger horses, it was seen that they were indeed Indians, many of them wrapped in blankets. There were men, women, boys and girls, and some of the smaller children were carried wrapped tightly to their mothers' backs.
Tip to the ranch rode Teddy and Jan as fast as their ponies would take them without tossing off the Curlytops.
"Oh, Uncle Frank!" cried Teddy. "They 're coming!"
"A lot of 'em!" shouted Janet.
"What's that?" asked the ranchman. "Who are coming?"
"Indians to take more of your ponies!" Teddy gasped.
For a time there was some little excitement on the ranch, until one of the cowboys, riding out to see the Indians, came back and said they were not "wild" ones, but a band that went about selling baskets and other things they made. They did no harm, and for a time camped near the ranch, the children, even Trouble, going over to see them. But for some time the Curlytops did not forget the fright their first view of the Indians gave them.
In the days that followed Teddy and Janet had many rides on Clipclap and Star Face, their two nice ponies. Sometimes they were allowed to go a little way over the prairies by themselves. But when they went for a long ride Uncle Frank, Jim Mason, their father or some of the cowboys were with them.
"After a while maybe I'll learn how to ride so I can go off with you and help get the Indians that stole your horses. Do you think I can, Uncle Frank?" asked Teddy one day.
"Well, maybe, Curlytop. We surely must find those Indians, for I don't like to lose all those horses. As soon as I get some of my work done I'll have another look for them."
And then, a few days later, more bad news came to Uncle Frank. With his cowboys he was getting some cattle ready to ship away to a distant city, from where they were to be sent still farther away in a train of cattle cars, when a cowboy, who seemed much excited, came riding up to the corral.
He looked very tired and warm, for the weather was hot, and his horse was covered with flecks of foam, as though it had been ridden hard and far.
"What's the matter, Henry?" asked Uncle Frank.
"Indian thieves!" was the answer. "A band of the Indians have run away with a lot of your best cattle!"
"They have?" cried Uncle Frank. "How do you know?"
"I saw 'em, and I chased 'em. But they got away from me. Maybe if we start right out now we can catch 'em and get back the cattle."
"Then we'll go!" cried Uncle Frank.
Teddy and Janet were very much excited when they saw the cowboys saddling their mustangs ready for the chase.
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