At each fresh movement from a halt, they turned their heads for the prairie, and then came circling back again--as though they had not yet quite satisfied their curiosity.
During their last halt--or what Basil believed might be the last--he again cautioned his brothers to keep on to the butte, and quietly placing his foot in the stirrup, vaulted into the saddle.

The movement caused the mustangs to start; but, before they could turn themselves, the young hunter had plied the spur, and made several springs towards them across the prairie.

He looked not at the drove--he cared not which way they might go--his eye rested only on the white leader, and towards him he rode in full charge.
The latter, when he saw this sudden movement, stood for a moment, as if in surprise.

Then giving a wild neigh--far different from any of the calls he had hitherto uttered--wheeled to the right, and led off in a gallop, the rest following at the top of their speed.

As the rearmost came round upon the prairie, Basil was not a dozen yards from them; and in a few springs had got so close that he could easily have thrown his lasso over some of them.