The horse whinnied once and rubbed
his nose against Ned's hand. He, too, had ceased to shiver.
All that afternoon the Norther blew with undiminished violence. After a
while the fall of snow thinned somewhat, but the wind did not decrease.
Ned was devoutly thankful for the dip and the bushes that grew within
it. Nor was he less thankful for the companionship of his horse. It was
a good horse, a brave horse, a great bay mustang, built powerfully and
with sinews and muscles of steel. He had secured him just after taking
part in the capture of San Antonio with his comrades, Obed White and the
Ring Tailed Panther, and already the tie between horse and rider had
become strong and enduring. Ned stroked him again, and the horse,
twisting his neck around, thrust his nose under his arm.
"Good old boy! Good fellow!" said Ned, pinching his ear. "We were lucky,
you and I, to find this place."
The horse neighed ever so gently, and rubbed his nose up and down. After
a while the darkness began to increase. Ned knew that it was not a new
development of the storm, but the coming of night, and he grew anxious
again. He and his horse, however secure at the present moment, could not
stay always in that dip among the bushes.
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