With the kick of his
carbine he felt Bessie Belle give way--it seemed to Dave that he
shot while she was sinking. The next instant his feet, still in
the stirrups, were on the ground and his horse lay between them,
motionless. That nervous fling of her head had saved Dave's life,
for the rustler's bullet had shattered her skull in its flight,
and she lay prone, with scarcely a muscular twitch, so sudden had
been her end. The breath escaped slowly from her lungs; it was as
if she heaved a lingering sigh; one leg contracted and then
relaxed.
For a moment the Ranger was dazed. He stood staring down at his
pet; then the truth engulfed him. He realized that he had ridden
her to her death, and at the thought he became like a woman bereft
of her child, like a lover who had seen his sweetheart slain.
A shout--it was a hoarse, inarticulate cry; a swift, maddened
scrutiny that searched the sodden scene of the ambush; then he was
down beside the mare, calling her name heartbrokenly, his arms
around her neck, his face against her warm, wet, velvet hide.
Law knew that two men had entered the thicket, and therefore one
still remained to be reckoned with, but he gave no thought to
that.
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