Beadle's Dime Novels No. 226: The Mustang-Hunters — page 21: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

“ This ’ere little mar’ are worth her weight in dollars, she are. I bought her at El Paso, "bout two month ago, and got a hundred dojlars boot with her for my old States hoss, and I’m durned ef she kain't ran away from him, an‘! kill a dozen common hosses. She are clear grit, she are. She'll get fat on corn-shucks, and as for mesquit grass, she'll go eighty mile a day on it.” Indeed, the little creature seemed as if she could realize her rider’s opinion of her. Alchough very small, there was an appearance of indomitable spirit in her eye, large and wild m expression, that proclaimed her to be an “ all-day horse.” The two companions rode gayly on for the rest of the after- noon, striking out into the boundless prairies, and leaving be- hind them the last signs of civilization in the village of Ham- ilton. The rolling green swells of the prairies, waving with grass and flowers ; the dark, isolated mottes, with their droop- ing fringes of Spanish moss, that made the gnarled live oaks resemble weeping willows—one succeeded the other with the grand monotony of prairie scenery, all through the journey. The distant peaks of the Phantom Hills began to lift their heads plainer and plainer into the clear atmosphere. At Jast the sun shone right into their faces, bathing the tops of the little swells in a golden glow, and then it was that the old hunter paused and pointed to a dark line of timber about a mile ahead. “Thar.” he said; “thar’s our camp-ground fur to-night. | That ar creek runs into the Coloraydo, and thar’s deer and bar in plenty in the bottom. Hurry up, and we'll git thar afore dark.” The two broke into a brisk gallop, which speedily brought them to the edge of a deep valley, cut out, in the course of centuries, by the stream that they could now see beluw, bor- dered with trees cf every vuriety. The old hunter rode down to the water's edge, and dis- mounted. -- “ Now then, younker,” be said, “ef you'll take car’ of the tiosses I'll git summat for our supper. This ’ere dried veni- son ain't what it’s cracked up to be. Ye'll find the hobbles behint the saddle.” _~ DISMOUNT. And without waiting for an answer, old Pete stole off