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Bronson Tweed Publishing
Slim Evans and His Horse Lightning
Slim Evans and His Horse Lightning
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This is a wonderful western adventure about a man and his horse, filled with action.
Chapter One
On the Sky High Trail
The rugged peaks of the Cajons cast deepening shadows down their eastern slopes as the July sun, a ball of fire in a cloudless sky, swung toward the horizon.
Threading his way carefully through one of the passes of the Cajons was a cowboy on a sorrel horse. Dust lay thick on both horse and rider, for they had been long on the trail that day and there had been no rain in the Cajon country for weeks.
Breasting the last steep grade leading to the summit of the pass, a new country was unfolded. The sorrell paused as its rider dismounted more than a little stiff from the hours in the saddle and the intense heat of the day.
The cowboy patted the sorrel affectionately.
“It’s been a long grind, Lightning, old girl. We’ll rest here a few minutes and then see if we can find a good place to camp tonight.”
The narrow trail had broadened at the summit and there was a swale with a little grass that had escaped the burning rays of the midsummer heat.
The sorrel began to graze while the cowboy sat down in the shadows of a boulder.
All day long horse and rider had been toiling up the slope from the east, following the little-used trail. Shading his eyes, the cowboy tried to follow the trail. It turned west and north, into a country that was well timbered and appeared to be rich in grazing land--a country new to both horse and rider.
Chapter One
On the Sky High Trail
The rugged peaks of the Cajons cast deepening shadows down their eastern slopes as the July sun, a ball of fire in a cloudless sky, swung toward the horizon.
Threading his way carefully through one of the passes of the Cajons was a cowboy on a sorrel horse. Dust lay thick on both horse and rider, for they had been long on the trail that day and there had been no rain in the Cajon country for weeks.
Breasting the last steep grade leading to the summit of the pass, a new country was unfolded. The sorrell paused as its rider dismounted more than a little stiff from the hours in the saddle and the intense heat of the day.
The cowboy patted the sorrel affectionately.
“It’s been a long grind, Lightning, old girl. We’ll rest here a few minutes and then see if we can find a good place to camp tonight.”
The narrow trail had broadened at the summit and there was a swale with a little grass that had escaped the burning rays of the midsummer heat.
The sorrel began to graze while the cowboy sat down in the shadows of a boulder.
All day long horse and rider had been toiling up the slope from the east, following the little-used trail. Shading his eyes, the cowboy tried to follow the trail. It turned west and north, into a country that was well timbered and appeared to be rich in grazing land--a country new to both horse and rider.
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