But he still swayed.

He laughed mockingly.
"Now, what do you think of that ?" he said, addressing the silence.
"You might think I was plum tenderfoot an' didn't know how to ride a horse proper." He urged the pony onward again, and for some little time rode with bowed head, trying to keep himself steady by watching the trail.

He rode through a little clearing, where the grass was matted and some naked rocks reared aloft.

Near a clump of sage-brush he saw a sudden movement--a rattler trying to slip away unnoticed.

But the snake slid into Ferguson's vision and with a sneer of hate he drew one of his weapons and whipped it over his head, its roar awakening echoes in the wood.