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Show 91 I ran up close. "Don't hurt her, Dad."' "To hell with her.1 Hand me that bridle before she chews me up."' Henry brought it up, reaching out as far as possible tdhand it over, then nimbly skipped back. Dad was panting like a lover and Beauty was blowing, nostrils flaring like the proud captive princess. When he slipped one rein around her neck and brought up the bridle, she rolled and reared, pawed and snorted and snapped; when he tried to force the bit into her mouth she shook her head and shimmied like a girl fighting off a kiss. By now he was cussing her, all those dirty words again, swearing and roaring like a bully, and finally he reached down over her and pulled up her right front foot, pulled her head around over her right shoulder, leaned his weight an her withers and forced her down to the ground like a wrestler getting a fall. He had her pinned all right. Holding her chin up so she couldn't roll back to her feet, he slipped the bridle on. When he let her up she shook the dust off, then stood there as serenely indifferent as if nothing had happened, no dirty words, no indignities, no rape, just stood there working her mouth around the bit, rolling it over her tongue as if she could/^oecide whether it was sweet or sour. "O.K.," said Dad, "get on her and ride her." "Sure," said Henry, and didn't move. "How about you, Chess?" "Sure," I said, and didn't move. "Davy?" "The oldest is supposed to go first," he said from the top of the corral. "Come on, Henry, get on there. I don't think she can buck more than six inches high." "Sure," said Henry, looking at the reins as if they were live wires, all his swagger gone. Beauty certainly taught humility. Even with Dad holding the cheek-strap, Henry practically asked her permission before he slid one leg |
