THE NEW PONIES
Out of a box Chief Black Bear took certain treasures that he gave to the
four little Bunkers who visited his wikiup. He even sent some
fresh-water mussel shells, polished like mother-of-pearl, to the absent
Margy and Mun Bun, of whom Cowboy Jack told him.
"They are some nice kids," declared the ranchman, who sometimes used
expressions and words that were not altogether polite; but he meant no
harm. "Especially that Mun Bun. _He_ went to sleep in a fence-corner
to-day and got covered up with tumble-weed. But he's an all right boy."
Cowboy Jack seemed to think a great deal of the smallest of the Bunkers.
He was frequently seen admiring Mun Bun. Even the other children noticed
it, and Rose had once asked her mother:
"Why doesn't Mr. Scar--Scar--well, what-ever-it-iskil! Why doesn't he
have children of his own?"
"But, my dear, everybody cannot have children just for the wishing,"
Mother Bunker replied.
"I should think he could," murmured Rose. "See how many children these
Indians and Mexicans have; and they are none of them half as nice as
Mr.--Mr.--well, Mr. Cowboy Jack."
To Russ and Rose and Laddie and Violet, Black Bear gave stone
arrow-heads which may have been used by his forefathers when they roamed
the plains, wild and free, as the young Indian said. But better than
those, he gave Rose and Violet little beaded moccasins that fitted just
as though they were made for the little white girls!
The children went away after that, for it was time for their own supper
at the ranch house and Cowboy Jack always seemed afraid of making Maria
Castrada cross if they were late for meals. But perhaps it was his own
hearty appetite that spurred him to be on time.
At any rate, the Bunkers left Chief Black Bear sitting cross-legged
before a low table on which the Indian women were serving his dinner,
beginning with soup and from that going on through all the courses of a
properly served meal.
"Funny fellow, that Black Bear," said Cowboy Jack to Mr. Bunker. "But
maybe he's got it right. I was brought up pretty nice--silverware and
finger-bowls, and all that sort of do-dads; but part of my life I've
lived pretty rough. Black Bear has set himself a certain standard of
living, and he's not going to slip back. Afraid of being a 'blanket
Indian,' I suppose."
The children--even Russ and Rose--did not understand all this; but they
had been much interested in Chief Black Bear.
"Only, I don't see why he paints up in the daytime and rides such wild
ponies, and all that," grumbled Rose, who, like Russ, did not like to be
mystified.
Whenever they tried to ask the older folks to explain the mystery they
were laughed at. It was Cowboy Jack's mystery, anyway, and Mr. and Mrs.
Bunker did not feel that they had a right to explain to the children all
that they wished to know.
"Figure it out for yourselves," said Daddy Bunker.
"Is it a riddle, then?" demanded Laddie. "It must be a riddle. Why does
Chief Black Bear paint his face, and--and----"
"And take it off with cold cream?" put in Vi. "Why _does_ he?"
"I guess that's the riddle," said her twin. "You answer it, Vi."
But although Vi could ask innumerable questions on all sorts of subjects
she seldom was able to answer one--and certainly not this one Laddie
propounded.
Next morning while the six little Bunkers were at the big breakfast
table in Cowboy Jack's ranch house there again arose a considerable
disturbance outside in front of the house. This time the children were
pretty well over their meal, and they grew so excited that Mother Bunker
allowed them to be excused.
Russ and Rose led the way out upon the veranda. There stood two of the
smiling Mexican houseboys--"cholos," Cowboy Jack called them--and they
bade the Bunker children a very pleasant good morning. Russ and Rose
did not forget their manners, and they replied in kind. But the four
smaller children just whooped when they saw what had brought the
Mexicans to the front of the big house.
One of the men led two saddled ponies while the other held another fat
pony that drew a brightly painted cart with seats in it and a step
behind--just the dearest cart! Rose Bunker said.
"Oh, I know I can learn to drive that dear, dear pony!" Rose added. "And
there is room for every one of you children with me in the cart."
"Huh!" exclaimed Laddie. "I am going to ride pony-back like Russ does.
Which is my pony, Mr. Cowboy Jack?" he asked of the ranchman who had
followed them out of the house to enjoy their amazement and delight.
"The one with the shortest stirrups, I guess," Russ said. "This one
looks as if I could ride him," and he took the bridle handed him by the
Mexican.
"Oh, lift me up! Lift me up!" cried Laddie, running to the other saddle
pony.
Cowboy Jack strode down and did so. Meanwhile Rose and the other
children were scrambling into the pony-cart, while the pony which drew
it tossed its head and looked around as though counting the number of
passengers that were getting aboard.
"Isn't he just cute?" cried Rose again. "Oh, Mr. Cowboy Jack! you are so
good to us."
"Got to be," said the ranchman, laughing. "I haven't any little folks of
my own, so I have to treat those I find around here pretty well, I do
say."
Laddie clung to both the pommel and the bridle-reins at first, for he
did seem so high from the ground at first. But Russ trotted away on his
pony very securely. Russ had ridden quite a little at Uncle Fred's ranch
and had not forgotten how.
Rose decided that she liked better to drive. But Vi must learn to drive,
too, she said. And even Margy and Mun Bun clamored to hold the reins
over the back of the sleepy brown pony. Russ's mount was what Cowboy
Jack called a pinto, but Russ said it was a calico pony. He had seen
them marked that way before--in the circus. Laddie's pony was all white,
with pinkish nose and ears. Right at the start Laddie called him
"Pinky." But the little girls could not agree on a name for the pony
that drew their cart.
There seemed to be so many nice names that just fitted him! Margy wanted
to call him Dinah after her lost doll.
"But that Dinah-doll was black," said Rose, in objection. "And this pony
is brown. Maybe we ought to call him Brownie."
"Oh! I know!" cried Vi. "Let's call him Cute. He's just as cunning as he
can be."
But this name did not appeal to the others, and they were no nearer
finding a name for the brown pony when the ride was over and they all
came back to the ranch house than at first. They had had so much fun,
however, that they had forgotten for the time being the mystery of the
Indians and soldiers whom they had seen the day before.
Laddie had thought up a new riddle--and it was a good one. He knew it
was good and he told everybody about it, he was so excited.
"Listen!" he cried, when he half tumbled out of his saddle by the steps
of the veranda. "This is a good riddle. Listen!"
"We're listening, Son," said Cowboy Jack. "Shoot!"
"What is it," asked Laddie earnestly, "that looks like a horse, has four
legs like a horse, runs like a horse, eats like a horse, but it isn't a
horse?"
"A cow," said his twin promptly.
"No, no! A cow has horns. A horse doesn't," Laddie declared scornfully.
"A colt," guessed Russ.
"No, no!" rejoined the eager Laddie. "A colt is a little horse, so that
could not be the answer, Russ Bunker."
"A giraffe," suggested Vi again.
"I wish you wouldn't, Vi," complained the riddle-maker. "Does a giraffe
look like any horse you ever saw?"
"A carpenter's horse," said Rose.
"Pooh! That's made of wood. Can a wooden horse _run_?" cried Laddie.
"I guess that _is_ a pretty good riddle," said Russ soberly. "What is
the answer, Laddie?"
"Do you all give it up?" asked the smaller boy, his eyes shining.
"You got us thrown and tied," declared Cowboy Jack solemnly. "I couldn't
guess that riddle in a thousand years."
"But you wouldn't want to wait that long to know what it is," Laddie
said delightedly. "Now, would you?"
"You'd better tell us now, Laddie," said Daddy Bunker smilingly. "You
know a thousand years _is_ a long time to wait."
"Well," said the little fellow proudly, "what looks like a horse, and
has four legs like a horse, and runs like a horse, and eats like a
horse, is----"
"Yes, yes!" exclaimed the impatient Violet.
"What is it, Laddie?"
"Why," said Laddie, with vast satisfaction, "it is a _mule_."
They all cried out in surprise at this answer. But it was a good riddle.
"Only," said Russ thoughtfully, "it's lucky you didn't say anything
about its tail and ears. Then we would have caught you."
The Bunker children had so much fun with the ponies Cowboy Jack had
selected for their use during the next two or three days that they
thought of very little else. The mystery of the Indians and soldiers did
not often trouble their minds. But something else did. Mail came from
the East, and with it was a letter from Captain Ben, and another from
Norah.
"And," said Mother Bunker soberly, reading the letters to the children,
"both say that they have found neither Rose's wrist-watch nor Laddie's
stick-pin. I am afraid, Rose and Laddie, that your carelessness has cost
you both your jewelry. It is too bad. But perhaps it will teach you the
lesson of carefulness with your possessions."
This, however, did not make either Rose or Laddie feel any better in
their minds. They had been very proud of both the lost articles and it
looked now as though they would never see the watch and the pin again.