As Reuben dashed forward he speedily discovered that swift as was the
pony he was riding it was unable to overtake the wild leader he was
following. Indeed, in a brief time it became plain to the young trapper
that his own horse was steadily dropping behind.
Aware, however, of the plan which was in the mind of Kit Carson for
chasing the horse they were all so desirous of securing, he sturdily
continued his efforts, all the time urging his horse to still greater
endeavours. It seemed to Reuben that never before had he ridden so
swiftly. The air appeared to strike him in the face, the hoofs of his
flying animal barely touching the sand. And yet every time he glanced
ahead he saw the black horse running easily, his neck arched and his
head held high, the long tail sweeping the ground at every leap.
What a magnificent animal the leader of the drove was! And how easily
he maintained his lead! Frequently the horse stopped and seemed almost
to be tempted to turn and dash past its pursuer and rejoin his
companions that had started toward a valley several miles distant.
And the hopeless part of his task was, as Reuben soon discovered, that
the animal he was following did not seem to be tiring. It still ran
easily when two miles or more had been covered by the pony which Reuben
was riding. Jack could not be far away now, Reuben thought, and he
began to peer anxiously ahead of him for the coming of his ally.
For some strange reason the black leader did not turn toward the
plains. He was running nearer the hills than was Reuben’s mount,
holding to his course, doubtless from the very fact that his pursuer
was coming from the same direction.
On and still on fled the pursuer and the pursued. In spite of all his
efforts, Reuben steadily dropped behind until, as he estimated the
distance, there was at least one hundred yards between him and the pony
he was so desirous of capturing.
Again Reuben rose in his stirrups and shouting into the ears of his
horse urged it to still greater efforts; and the pony responded nobly.
Its sides were heaving now and a sound very like a groan came with
every breath. He could see by an occasional glance that the nostrils of
his pony were red and dilated. There was no time for mercy, however,
and with every forward leap now Reuben shouted into the ears of his
horse.
He was wondering why Jack did not appear. He was confident that he had
passed more than the number of miles that had been assigned to him in
the race, but his friend still was nowhere within sight.
In a brief time, however, riding forth from behind one of the
foothills, Jack suddenly appeared. And it was high time for his aid to
be given. The poor beast upon which Reuben was mounted was now
trembling in every muscle and its strength was so nearly gone that when
Reuben halted it was barely able to stand.
Hastily dismounting, as soon as the young trapper was aware that the
chase was to be taken up by his friend, Reuben patted the neck of his
pony and in low tones spoke soothingly to it. The poor animal was
standing with lowered head and with an air of such complete dejection
as Reuben thought he never before had seen displayed by any living
animal.
His meditations, however, were interrupted by the report of a gun in
the distance and the faint sound of a shout that came across the sands.
Glancing hastily in the direction from which the hail had come, Reuben
saw that soon after his friend had appeared to join in the chase the
black horse had swerved in his course and instead of continuing on his
way had turned backward and now was directly approaching the place
where Reuben was standing.
And still the horse was running easily and apparently without fatigue.
To overtake him seemed almost a hopeless undertaking. Again Reuben
assured himself that never before had he seen such strength combined
with swiftness and grace.
Aware, however, that he must do something now to help, Reuben leaped
upon the back of his tired horse and urged it once more to join in the
pursuit. A challenging neigh now came from the swiftly running black
horse, and almost as if he ignored the puny efforts of his foes to
overtake him, the course he was following again was changed and with a
sudden burst of speed the animal, like a thunder-bolt, dashed past the
place where Reuben was standing.
The young trapper now joined in the shouts and he, too, discharged his
gun as a warning to Kit Carson, who was doubtless waiting at the place
where he had abandoned the chase. The efforts, however, were useless,
as in a brief time once more, swiftly swerving to his left, the black
horse dashed into what at first seemed to Reuben to be an unbroken mass
of rocks. In an instant the animal had disappeared from sight.
As rapidly as his horse was able to bear him, Reuben rode to the place
where the leader had so strangely disappeared. As he came near he
discovered a narrow opening or gorge apparently caused by some great
crack in the formations centuries before. As Reuben entered the narrow
place he saw eight or ten feet below him a stretch of more level land,
though it was dotted here and there with stones and boulders.
It seemed impossible to the young scout that a horse could have leaped
to the ground below. However, at that moment he heard the sound of a
defiant neigh and in a brief time was able to discern the outline of
the form of the black horse speeding along a narrow trail which was at
least twenty-five feet above the plain on which he was riding.
It was plain that the horse was familiar with every foot of the region.
Along this narrow ledge the black horse now was running with confidence
unbroken, although the pathway was not more than a yard wide. Indeed in
several places it seemed to the astonished Reuben that the width was
still less.
Every moment he expected to see the black pony lose his foothold and
fall to the rock-covered ground below him. His expectations, however,
were not fulfilled, for the sure-footed animal, scarcely pausing in his
flight, steadily continued on his way. At one place Reuben saw him leap
across a narrow ravine and without any slip regain his footing on the
opposite side. Although the young trapper’s admiration of the horse
increased, he was now well-nigh hopeless that the animal ever could be
taken.
Indeed it was not long before the horse disappeared from sight, and
Reuben was unable to determine which of the numerous gorges he had
entered, as several converged at the point where the black leader was
lost to sight.
It was impossible for Reuben’s horse to attempt to follow. Not only was
the leap from the rock one which few animals would be able to make with
safety, but also the nearly exhausted condition of his mount made such
an attempt worse than reckless. There was nothing to be done except to
return and join his companions.
“Did you get him, Reuben?” inquired Kit Carson dryly, as the young
trapper, discovering his friend, rode slowly to meet him.
“No, I didn’t,” said Reuben glumly.
“I’m surprised. Still, when we have him broken, I think you’ll enjoy a
spin on that black demon as much as any of us.”
“If you ever take him,” suggested Reuben dryly.
“Why,” said Kit Carson in apparent surprise, “you haven’t any question
about that, have you? Of course we’re going to take him.”
“Not to-day,” suggested Reuben.
“No, not to-day,” acknowledged the scout; “but there are other days to
come.”
“Do you believe that that black leader, after to-day’s chase, will stay
around this part of the country any longer? He will take his followers
and start for some other part of the mountains.”
“Perhaps he will,” acknowledged Kit Carson, “but before that time comes
we’ll have another chance at him.”
“You never can take him,” asserted Reuben. “I never in my life saw
anything run the way that pony did. And it doesn’t make any difference
whether he’s running on the plains or along a ledge of the rocks. Why,
he followed a narrow little ledge for three hundred yards. I expected
every minute to see him tumble into the bed of the stream that was
twenty-five or thirty feet below him. As far as I could see he didn’t
slip once.”
“Oh, yes, he’s a wonderful animal,” said Kit Carson quietly, “and we
shall appreciate him all the more after we have had a chance to break
him in.”
“You won’t break him in very soon,” said Reuben, shaking his head. “You
stand just about as much chance of getting that black horse as you do
of grabbing a streak of lightning by its tail.”
Kit Carson smiled and made no response to the assertion of his young
companion, and then at his suggestion they all started on their way
back to camp.
In silence the men advanced, and when two hours had elapsed, Kit Carson
suggested: “I think I’ll go over to the Indian village. Do you want to
come, Reuben?”
The lad hesitated a moment and then said, “I’m hungry.”
“Come along with me and the squaws will feed you. And Jack, too, if he
wants to come,” added the scout amiably. Jack, however, insisted upon
returning to his companions and rode away alone as Kit Carson and
Reuben started toward the Indian village.
It was not long before they found themselves in the little settlement,
where the words of the scout were confirmed, for food was soon provided
for the hungry hunters, and, as Kit Carson had said, the squaws seemed
to vie with one another in their efforts to please their white
visitors.
Soon after Reuben had finished his repast he was startled by the sight
of an approaching white man. To all appearances the man belonged to the
village. He was, however, neither dressed as were the Indians nor did
his appearance suggest that he was a newcomer or a stranger in the
midst of the redmen. Reuben’s surprise, however, was caused by his
conviction that the man before him was the same one he had seen at San
Gabriel, and if he was not the missing Jean, at least he so strongly
resembled him that a stranger might take one for the other.
“Look at that man,” said Reuben in a low voice as he turned to Kit
Carson. “Do you know who he is? He looks to me like Jean Badeau.”
In response to the suggestion of his young friend Kit Carson glanced
hastily at the man to whom Reuben had referred and then said, “Are you
sure?” As he spoke the scout glanced at the young trapper, but he
quickly was aware that Reuben had not heard his question. He was
staring blankly at the white man.