Free Conquering Horse by Frederick Manfred

mine.” All the while he slyly watched where Lizard drifted, trying to hold the crushed clover leaves in such a way that the wind would carry their scent in his direction. The other ponies followed the old mare’s lead and gradually came up close too, slowly filling the circle again, until at last they all were massed tight around him, blacks, grays, sorrels, duns. His black braids were of one piece with the great tumbling of raised black tails and erect black manes.
    Finally Lizard, not to be left out, drew near too, though with his ears down and his head still snaky.
    Looking past the round red rump of a bay, No Name had a good look at Lizard’s new nose. The scar had healed over. A pair of gray-black patches lay where once nostrils trembled. The two long gaps gave the black gelding’s nose the curious look of a pair of halved willow flutes.
    Suddenly, as he softly whispered his incantation, “My song is clever and my hand is sure,” No Name let fly with the lariat. The rawhide rope uncoiled neatly. The loop circled once around, slowly, like a hoop about to fall, and then like a long arm it caught Lizard around the neck before he could rear back. Instantly, very swiftly, No Name whipped his end of the rope half around his body and leaned back, sideways, anchoring himself on the ground. Horses exploded away from him as if he had suddenly turned into a raging grizzly. There was a bouncing of round rumps and a thudding of hooves. Tails popped. There were wild snorts and quick screams.
    Lizard bounded backwards too, high on his rear legs, front hooves pawing the skies; then he came down and let fly at the skies with his rear hooves. He broke wind, then darted to one side. No Name hung on, leaning back almost to the ground. His feet slid through the thick lush grass. Twice his feet hit piles of horseballs and exploded them in an arc. Then his heels caught in a gopher hole. Quickly anchoring himself in it and leaning back, he held.
    Lizard shook his head back and forth, so furiously his neckcracked. He shuddered from stem to stern. Suddenly he rolled completely over on the ground and came up bounding in a great lifting spring. Then he backed again, all four legs working, like a dog trying desperately to back out of a hole, choking on the rope. Each jerk only made the slipknot grip him tighter. A low frenzied wheezing gurgled in his throat.
    Horse and man hung balanced. The rawhide rope hummed between them. Lizard’s tail stood out straight. His eyes burned balls of hate at No Name. His new nose-holes pulsed with a sobbing noise so that he resembled a huge catfish thrown up on land.
    No Name sung his song, quietly, soothingly.
    Lizard broke sideways with a wonderful leaping bound. He ran around No Name tight on the lariat. But the lasso at his throat slowly gripped him tighter and tighter. It cut his breath until he again had to stand still. Then, shaking his long black mane a last time, looking sadly at all the others in the herd who stood around him at a distance with heads and tails lifted in wondering sympathy, he suddenly let down. The rope fell slack and No Name eased up.
    After a wait, No Name began to work slowly hand over hand up the rope. He grunted deep from his chest, making powerful horse medicine talk. “Hroh. Hroh. Hroh.” He rolled his shoulders and head in a slow hunching rhythm. He fixed the black horse with half-lidded magnetic eyes. Still sobbing for breath, Lizard stood as one charmed, rooted. Hand over hand No Name moved up. Gradually his monotone “hroh, hroh, hroh,” changed to a low sibilant “shih, shih, shih.”
    Finally he touched the horse’s mouth. He let Lizard smell his fingers a moment. Then, leaning forward, he breathed a few deep breaths into the open nares. Lizard still stood as one caught in a trance. In another moment, with a sure turn of his wrist, No Name flipped part of the lariat around Lizard’s lower jaw and had the horse in control. He sprang on Lizard, bareback,