Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1890-11-14
A NATURAL TRAP.

had been riding several hours through
the hot dust of southern Arizona plain
on the trip from Antelope to the home
ranch had not seen living thing ex-
cept the scurrying lizards, when l noticed
ahead man on horseback riding rapidly
toward me.
At that point the trail led across the
great cactus plain known as Lonesome
valley. It was not valley at all in the
usual sense of the word, but a broad, level
sweep of sandy desert stretching between
two abrupt ranges of mountains. There
was not a tree on it more than ten feet
high, but will venture to say chat there
were more varieties of cactus and more of
those villainous plants to the square yard
than could be found in any other spot on
the globe. Southern Arizona is the gar
den of the cactus and this desert must
have been its own particular hotbed. l
had been in the country scarcely six months,
but l had already acquired a horror of
cactus thorns, and guided my horse along
the trail with care which did not admit
of great speed.
The rider whom l saw approaching me
in Lonesome valley evidently had no such
fear His animal, which he was urging
forward at a rapid lope. swerved easily to
the right and left, threading the mazes of
the cactus growth with the trained sense
of a Mexican pony.
AS they approached made out that the
rider was a Mexican. At still closer
view | saw that he was rather good look
ing Mexican, but poorly dressed, and that
evidently he was on journey. He had
with him canteen, a pair of worn, greasy
blankets, and lightly packed gunny sack.
His horse was homelNm sharp boned an
imal, built for speed and endurance, forced
marches, and long stages without water;
but at present he was certainly tired.
will not say ''tired OUT" for these ponies
are never tired out until they are dead.
The man checked his rapid pace as we
neared each other, and l thought was
about to pass with the customary buenos
dias, when he cast quick glance at my
horse and refined in his own. | halted also.
"You hat vera fine boss there senor,"
he said, in tone of the utmost politeness.
My horse, which l called Montezuma,
was in fact a larger and better shaped ami
NAL than is often seen in that country.
had picked him out for that reason on my
first visit to Antelope, and at the time
prided myself not a little on my choice. He
was indeed a horse of excellent appear
ance and action, but he had some defects.
His very build showed that he was a north
ern or an eastern horse and not native
born, and found that he was by no means
equal to the native breed in endurance or
wiry strength. He could not travel as far
nor go so long without water, nor was he
as sure footed.
However, he made an imposing appear
ance, and served me very well in my rides,
which were chiefly for pleasure.
He pricked up his ears, and the polite
Mexican said again, "You hat vera fine
boss, senor."
eyes, he's a very good horse" l replied,
not very cordially, but still with courtesy,
for it seemed to me polite to be courteous
to man who was probably the only
human being within ten miles.
''He no born in thees countree? see no
boss lika heem in Arizona, nevare. But,
senor," with a glance at his own sharp
boned, painting beast, there is one vera
eggscellanta Mexicana boss. rida heem
now one, two, three day. Irida heem vera
hard and see!''
He touched the animal lightly with his
spurs, lifted the hand with which he held
the reins and leaned forward. The horse
sprang instantly into furious LOPEZ as if
be had but just been saddled for the first
time. The Mexican wheeled him grace
fully in long circle through the cactus
plants, and drew him in again on his
launches by my side.
"Ah, senior, he is the one boss of one
meellionl He go and go and go, and
nevare stop. He drink only the one time
day, and he eat, ah, SO leetle In one
year he not eat SO mucha as burro. But
perhaps the senor," and here his face wore
most persuasive smile, will hka to eggs
change? The senior will gift to me hees
boss, and will gif to heem my magnifico
chihuahua"
"No, do not wish to trade horses at
ALL" / said, with less cordiality than be-
fore, as began to feel decidedly uneasy In
the presence of this smiling foreigner.
"No?" he said, in a tone of regret. Then,
after a moment, his face lighting up, he
added: "Ah, but the senior has nevare
tried heem He does not know Chihuahua.
Eff he try heem only the once he see that
tella heem the truth"
He threw himself to the ground and came
toward me smiling | now saw his plan.
He was adesperate man, pro badly flying to
Mexico to escape the consequences of some
crime. My horse had attracted him at first
sight. Either he needed it to help him on
his journey or thought he might sell it for
good sum across the border.
1t seemed to me an excellent plan to go
at once, without losing any more time in
useless conversation. / turned quickly in
the saddle, murmured a somewhat unnec-
essary "Good-by," and spurred Montezuma
toward home.
rocI, nd CT fo1
IN good shape; but in an instant the Mexi
can had sprung into his saddle and was
after me. There was no doubt now as to
his intentions. As looked back l saw
that his face had lost it's smile and taken
on cruel, sullen look. He dug his spurs
into his horse, and the animal sprang into
the same furious gallop that l had seen
before.
My heart sank as realized that it was
perhaps race of life and death. The de-
fects of my horse came to my mind with
startling distinctness How gladly would
have exchanged him for the boniest COW
pony in the countryl The Mexican's horse
was not gaining on us now, for Montezuma
was fresh; but could he outrun that re-
lentless pursuer on a five mile stretch?
Then what if Montezuma should STUN
BILE and throw me to the ground head fore
most? At the thought of this ! turned
again to the front. ! could not afford to
watch my pursuer. I must keep clear
outlook ahead. If / could only guide my
horse safely around every hole and stone,
and across every wash. perhaps we could
yet pull away from the scoundrel behind
lne.
At this moment something struck me a
terrific blow in the back of the head.
thought l had been shot, and turned
slowly to look at my murderer. The end
of heavy, worn lasso was just slipping
off the saddle behind me, and the Mexican,
with an exclamation. was Feeling it in, ev-
identity making ready to throw again. He
had seen that my horse was gaining, and
accordingly had recourse to that most eff
fectiFe long range weapon, the lariat. His
first throw had missed me by an inch, and
he was cursing himself for his cfumsiness
was not thrower of the Glass" myself
but was familiar with it's powers. One
of the rough sports of cowboys, after work,
is to "rope" one another. In wild race in
and ont Of the corral ono Of them tries tc