The Red River Half-Breed by Gustave Aimard

Red Knife blew his war whistle loudly. This was the cue for forty men to spring on their ponies. The chief took the lead and all tore away like fiends over the level ground. They soon "fanned out" there, banishing their guns over their heads, tossing up war clubs and catching them when all but touching the ground, juggling with their knives and pistols, all without drawing rein; executing, in fact, circus feats, after the manner of the Arabs, who employ this same method, or _fantasia_, to greet a celebrity. On his part, the trapper was riding a steed without any harness whatever -- one that he had caught astray from the unfortunate Half-breed detachment that "bunked up" against the Cherokee. Except for the lasso which had ensnared it, and which served as a halter, it obeyed the rider by his voice and slap of the hand, and was restrained from rebellion by the threatening pressure of his knees, with which he would have crushed in the ribs.

This simple show of arrogant horsemanship delighted the Piegans, who journey oftenest on foot, and they all fired off their guns. Then, forming a line abreast under cover of the smoke, they charged with a prodigious howling, but when almost overwhelming the solitary rider, they reined up by a miracle of skill, as if their poor broken-jawed horses had suddenly taken root in the ground.