Produced by Suzanne Shell, Gene Smethers and PG Distributed Proofreaders

THE UNTAMED

BY MAX BRAND

1919

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I. Pan of the Desert

II. The Panther

III. Silent Shoots

IV. Something Yellow

V. Four in the Air

VI. Laughter

VII. The Mute Messenger

VIII. Red Writing

IX. The Phantom Rider

X. The Strength of Women

XI. Silent Bluffs

XII. Partners

XIII. The Lone Riders Entertain

XIV. Delilah

XV. The Cross Roads

XVI. The Three of us

XVII. The Panther's Paw

XVIII. Cain

XIX. Real Men

XX. One Trail Ends

XXI. One Way Out

XXII. The Woman's Way

XXIII. Hell Starts

XXIV. The Rescue

XXV. The Long Ride

XXVI. Black Bart Turns Nurse

XXVII. Nobody Laughs

XXVIII. Whistling Dan, Desperado

XXIX. "Werewolf"

XXX. "The Manhandling"

XXXI. "Laugh, Damn it!"

XXXII. Those who See in the Dark

XXXIII. The Song of the Untamed

XXXIV. The Coward

XXXV. Close in!

XXXVI. Fear

XXXVII. Death

XXXVIII. The Wild Geese

THE UNTAMED

CHAPTER I

PAN OF THE DESERT

Even to a high-flying bird this was a country to be passed overquickly. It was burned and brown, littered with fragments of rock,whether vast or small, as if the refuse were tossed here after themaking of the world. A passing shower drenched the bald knobs of arange of granite hills and the slant morning sun set the wet rocksaflame with light. In a short time the hills lost their halo andresumed their brown. The moisture evaporated. The sun rose higher andlooked sternly across the desert as if he searched for any remaininglife which still struggled for existence under his burning course.

And he found life. Hardy cattle moved singly or in small groups andbrowsed on the withered bunch grass. Summer scorched them, winterhumped their backs with cold and arched up their bellies with famine,but they were a breed schooled through generations for this fightagainst nature. In this junk-shop of the world, rattlesnakes wererulers of the soil. Overhead the buzzards, ominous black speckspendant against the white-hot sky, ruled the air.

It seemed impossible that human beings could live in thisrock-wilderness. If so, they must be to other men what the lean, hardycattle of the hills are to the corn-fed stabled beeves of the States.

Over the shoulder of a hill came a whistling which might have beenattributed to the wind, had not this day been deathly calm. It was fitmusic for such a scene, for it seemed neither of heaven nor earth,but the soul of the great god Pan come back to earth to charm thosenameless rocks with his wild, sweet piping. It changed to harmoni

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