Sunset Ranch: A Story of a Boy's Adventures in the West — page 190: what you’re looking at

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

178 Bravo! Buckskin. time, bring away the spoils of war, in the shape of his good rifle and Karl’s beloved cayuse. From that hour no cowboy would dare again to look down upon Cuthbert, or believe that he de- served the name of tenderfoot; he had cut loose from his past and carved his name in imperishable letters upon the column of fame, according to a prairie boy’s idea. To pick up Little Buckshot and then turn their horses’ heads toward home was the thing that now occupied their attention. It was high noon when they leisurely galloped up to the bunch of timber in which a delightful spring gushed forth. Here the dusky child of the prairie awaited them, and how his coal-black eyes glittered when he dis- covered Cuthbert, whom he had last watched a cap- tive in the closely-guarded Sioux camp, among them. Nor did the Virginian neglect to shower his ‘thanks upon Little Buckshot for all he had done; he promised himself that the young brave should have a duplicate of his repeating rifle as soon as money could procure the same, and, by this sub- stantial token, the Indian would understand that his zealous efforts in behalf of the white prisoner had been appreciated. They concluded to rest the horses, and not make a start for home until the following morning. Cowboys enjoy a chance to recuperate; theirs is such a busy, bustling existence, so full of unex- pected calls upon their energy, that a lull in the storm is always appreciated. So they lay “around in soft places, and napped, while the horses cropped the still sweet herbage or recuperated after their long run. Cuthbert, almost dead for sleep, soon found balm in Gilead, and knew nothing for hours. connicloookks.conn