Sunset Ranch: A Story of a Boy's Adventures in the West — page 182: what you’re looking at

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

170 Bravo! Buckskin. Only seven kept it up, and they seemed to be de- termined that nothing should daunt them. Higher rose the sun. The chill of early morning no longer remained; indeed, Buckskin was bathed in sweat, such was the violence of his exertions. He was a game little Tartar, well worthy of any man’s regard, and Cuthbert, overwhelmed with ad- miration for his staying qualities, could only express his feelings by patting his outstretched neck and crying in boyish enthusiasm: “Bully, bully all around!’ That meant volumes, according to a boy’s lingo. Now he began to speculate seriously as to what chances he would have should the affair terminate, as seemed possible, in a battle. Seven was not so bad as thirteen, but all the same he feared his case was pretty desperate when it came to such a pass. The repeating gun was a Gibraltar of strength under ordinary conditions, and with open foes to contend against; but Cuthbert had not lived all this time among the Sioux without observing how catlike their advance upon expected quarry might be, and he despaired of successfully holding such agile foes at bay. One he might have outwitted, and even two in a pinch; but the thought of seven was appalling. Still he did not yet lose heart. The yellow horse was putting in his best strides, and, so long as he could keep up this hot pace, the game was anybody’s. More than a few times the course was changed on account of some advantage Cuthbert thought might be gained by a sudden turn; or it was the warning gopher whistle that told him to beware of the bur- row city into which his animal might flounder unless guided elsewhere. Connicloooks.€©