Audubon County journal. (Exira, Iowa) 1884-1993, 1902-12-04
TCoNTINUED.1

strike through all other sounds till they
gained the top Of the slope, to find the
others almost hundred yards in front,
the citizens team leading, with the
miners following close. The moment
the pintos caught sight of the teams
before them they set off at n terrific
pace and steadily devoured the inter.
vening space. Nearer and nearer the
turn came, the eight horses in front
running straight and we'll within their
speed. After them flew the pintos, run
ming savagely, with ears set back, lead
ing well the big roans, laundering along
and gaining at every bound. And now
the citizens team had almost reached
the fort, running hard and drawing
away from the bays. But Nixon knew
what he was about and was simply
steady1ng his team for the turn.
| The event proved his wisdom, for in
the turn the leading team left the
track, lost moment or two In the
deep snow, and before they could re-
gain the road the bays had swept SUI
| perbly past leaving their rivals to fol-
| low in the rear. On came the pintos,
swiftly nearing the fort. Surely at
that pace they cannot make the turn.
| But Sandy knows his leaders. They
| have their eyes upon the teams in front
and need no touch Of rein. Without
the slightest change in speed the nim-
| BILE footed bronchos round the turn,
hauling the big roans after them, and
| fall in behind the citizens team, which
is regaining steadily the ground lost in
| the turn.
And now the struggle is for the
bridge over the ravine. The bays in
| front, running with mouths wide open,
are evidently doing their best. Behind
them and every moment nearing them,
but at the limit of their speed, too,
come the lighter and feeter citizens
| team, while opposite their driver are
the pintos, pulling hard, eager and
fresh. Their temper is too uncertain
| to send them to the front. They run
well following, but when leading can
not be trusted, and, besides, broncho
hates a bridge, so Sandy holds them
where they are, waiting and hoping for
| his chance after the bridge is crossed.
| Foot by foot the citizens team creep
up upon the flank of the bays, with the
| pintos in turn hugging them closely, till
| it seems as If the three, if none slack
ems, must strike the bridge together,
| and this will mean destruction to one
at least. This danger Sandy perceives,
but he dare not check his leaders. Sud
denly within few yards Of the bridge
Baptiste throws himself upon the lines,
wrenches them out Of Sandy's hands
and, with quick swing, faces the pin
! tos down the steep side of the ravine,
which is almost sheer ice with a thin
coat of snow. 1t is daring course to
take, for the ravine, though not deep,
is full of underground and is partially
| closed up by a brush heap at the far
ther end. But, with a yell, Baptiste
1 hurls his four horses down the slope
and into the underground. "Allons,
mes enfants! Courage! Vite! Vitey'
cries their driver, and nobly do the pin.
tos respond.
Regardless of bushes and brush
heaps, they tear their way through
but as they emerge the high bob sleigh
catches q root, and, with a crash, the
sleigh is hurled in the air Baptiste's
cries ring out high and shrill as ever
encouraging his team, and never cease
till, with plunge and scramble, they
clear the brush heap lying at the
mouth Of the ravine and are out on the
ice on the river, with Baptiste standing
on the front bob, the box trailing be
hind and Sandy nowhere to be seen
Three hundred yards of the course re
main. The bays, perfectly handled
have gained at the bridge and in tn,
! descent to the ice and are leading tn,
citizens team by half dozen lengths
Behind both comes Baptiste. 1t is nov
or never for the pintos. The rattle o
, the trailing box, together with tn
, wild yelling Of the crowd rushing
: down the bank, excites the broncho
: to madness, and, taking the bits Il
3 their teeth, they do their first free run
ming that day. Past the citizens tear
like whirlwind they dash, clear tn
intervening space and gain the flank
of the bays. Can the bays hold them
: Over them leans their driver, plyin
!. Only fifty yards more. The miners bt
!. gin to yell. But Baptiste, waving hi
lines high in one hand, seizes his toqu
y >. with the other, whirls it about his hea
and filings it with tiercer yell tina
ever at the bronchos. Like the burs
ing Of hurricane the pintos leap 70
ward and with a splendid rush eros
the scratch, winners by their ow
length.
There was wild quarter of an hou
The shanty men had torn off the
coats and were waving them wild
and tossing them high, while Il
ranchers added to the uproar by EN-
tying their revolvers into the air in
way that made one nervous.
When the crowd was somewh
quoted, Sandy's stiff figure appeare
slowly making toward them. A dozt
lumbermen ran to him, eagerly inqui
ing if he were hurt. But Sandy cou
only curse the little Frenchman
losing the race.