The Colonel was anxious to get out of the mess.
But his little mustang was not at all disposed to move in that direction; neither did the other horses seem disposed to acquiesce in such a plan.
Crockett's heels were armed with very formidable Spanish spurs, with prongs sharp and long.

The hunter writes: "To escape from the annoyance, I beat the devil's tattoo on his ribs, that he might have some music to dance to, and we went ahead right merrily, the whole drove following in our wake, head up, and tail and mane streaming.

My little critter, who was both blood and bottom, seemed delighted at being at the head of the heap; and having once fairly got started, I wish I may be shot if I did not find it impossible to stop him.

He kept along, tossing his head proudly, and occasionally neighing, as much as to say, "Come on, my hearties, you see I ha'n't forgot our old amusement yet." And they did come on with a vengeance, clatter, clatter, clatter, as if so many fiends had broke loose.

The prairie lay extended before me as far as the eye could reach, and I began to think that there would be no end to the race.
"My little animal was full of fire and mettle, and as it was the first bit of genuine sport that he had had for some time, he appeared determined to make the most of it.