Crazy Horse Read Online Free PDF Page A

going on, was to slip onto Lucky and ride bareback to join the herd. Before she had time to consider the danger, she’d climbed the fence. Lucky stood still just long enough for her to jump on, then he was away, galloping like crazy to catch up with the rest.
    Kirstie leaned forward, arms around her horse’s neck, body flat against him as his powerful stride took her across the rough grass. She had to cling on and concentrate hard to keep her balance, rolling with his gait, judging the speed by the wind in her hair. Then, as soon as he joined the herd, he slowed and gave her time to look up. Surrounded by horses, she was hidden in their midst as she tried to make out what was happening in the deep shadow of the cliff.
    It seemed that there were more horses over there—possibly as many as four or five. Nothing odd in that, maybe. But when one came out of the shadow and she spotted a rider on its back, she froze.
Who on earth? What on earth?
    Without seeing Kirstie, the man reined his horse harshly, wheeled him around and vanished back into the shadow. There was another sharp sound of wood breaking, a muffled shout, before Lucky and the herd veered away.
    They were crashing through the fence! There must be more than one rider. They were stealing Half Moon horses! This was the only explanation. Kirstie clung to Lucky and raced him back the length of the meadow, using her legs to steer him close to the gate and slow him so that she could jump off and raise the alarm. Shocked and trembling, she vaulted the fence and ran for the bunkhouse, rattling on Charlie’s door, then racing on to warn her mom.
    “Mom, quick! Call the cops! There are horse rustlers out in Red Fox Meadow! C’mon, get up, please!” She took the stairs two at a time, flung open Sandy’s door, switched on the light. Her mom raised her head and groaned.

    “Wake up!” Then she was out on the landing and down the stairs, heading back to the bunkhouse to find Charlie staggering out, sleepy and disheveled. “Come quick!” she pleaded. “Bring a shotgun. We’ve got rustlers…stealing the horses…quick, or we’ll be too late!”
    And now they all three gathered their wits and ran. Sandy Scott had brought a flashlight, which she turned on, swinging the beam across the field. The herd stampeded, coats glistening with sweat in the moonlight, taking a crazy course around the meadow, churning up the ground. They reared and cried out, thudded down, whirled and spun in a frenzy of fear.
    “Over there!” Charlie cried. The flashlight beam had picked out the activity at the far end of the meadow. The young wrangler ran toward the cliff, rifle in hand.
    Three figures on horseback saw the light, heard Charlie’s voice. They circled the two horses they’d cut out from the herd and drove them toward the gap in the fence, forcing them out of the field before their pursuers on foot could stop them.
    Three men! Kirstie strained to take in the details. Stetsons and thick jackets with collars turned up. Leather chaps flapping against their saddles, one with a fancy plaited bridle in white and red. The flashlight picked it out; it was unusual, something to fix in her mind. But the men’s faces were hidden under the brims of their hats, and their heads were down as they drove the chosen horses out of the field.
    “They’re turning them toward the creek!” Sandy gasped, then lost the rustlers as they rode out of range of her flashlight. She stopped running and looked wildly around. “We’ll never move fast enough without horses.”
    “Let’s try cutting them off!” Charlie realized that the thieves were heading the two stolen horses through the narrow gap between the granite cliff and Five Mile Creek, moving them upstream, away from the ranch. From the sound of their shouted commands and counter-commands, they knew that the first rider had reached the water and plunged in. The others stayed behind the Half Moon Ranch horses, yelling and urging them on into the