Ned sprang
upon Old Jack, and rode away at a trot, leading the other two horses by
their lariats. The snow was gone now and the breeze was almost balmy.
Ned felt that great rebound of the spirits of which the young are so
capable. They had outwitted Urrea, they had taken his prisoners from
him, and then had escaped across the Rio Grande. They had found shelter
and now they had obtained a food supply. They were all good comrades
together, and what more was to be asked?
He whistled as he rode along, but when he was half way back to the cabin
he noticed something in a large tree that caused him to stop. He saw the
outlines of great bronze birds, and he knew that they were wild turkeys.
Wild turkeys would make a fine addition to their larder, and, halting
Old Jack, he shot from his back, taking careful aim at the largest of
the turkeys. The huge bird fell, and as the others flew away Ned was
lucky enough to bring down a second with a pistol shot.
His trophies were indeed worth taking, and tying their legs together
with a withe he hung them across his saddle bow. He calculated that the
two together weighed nearly sixty pounds, and he rode triumphantly when
he came in sight of the cabin.
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