That evening, as dusk was falling, he was about to reconcile himself to another night spent propped against a tree. He rode the horse every third day and liked his gait so much that he soon became his favorite horse. Then he went around and tied the other ankle. Each of the Kiowas had a try, but Monkey John scoffed at their efforts.
July was sitting in the dark, buttermilk on his lip, looking at her as patiently as if he were a calf. I'll take a hand, Lippy said. Blue Duck rode as before, seldom looking back. She might be fast, but rabbits were surely faster.
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