THE SECOND GREAT LESSON
Next morning Pat, imprisoned in a tiny stable, tried to get out by
thrusting his head against the door. But the door would not give. Alone
in semi-darkness, therefore, he spent the day. Twice a Mexican youth
came to feed and water him, but always the quantity was insufficient,
and always the boy carefully locked the door after him. Because of this,
together with the poor ventilation, Pat became irritable. He longed for
the freedom of the big corral--its sunlight, the visits of his
mistress--but these were steadfastly denied him. And so through another
night and another day, until he became well-nigh distracted. He stamped
the floor, fought flies, dozed, dreamed strange dreams, stamped the
floor again. After three days of this, sounds outside told him of the
return of man and horses. But not till the next morning, and then quite
late, was he released from the odious confinement.
Felipe bustled in, all eager for business. He drove his recent
acquisition out into the corral and set to work harnessing one of the
team--the mate of the aged mare. When she was bridled and standing in
the trail in front of his empty wagon, he hurriedly returned to the new
horse, placed a bridle upon his head, led him forth, and swung him close
beside the other horse. He winced just a little at the incongruity of
the team, though he did not let it delay him. He picked up the half of
the harness and tossed it over the mare's back. Then he caught up the
other half, and, preparing to toss it upon the black, began to
straighten out deep and unexpected tangles.
"Well, you black devil," he began, as he twisted and turned the
much-bepatched harness, "you doin' soom work now! All you' life you
havin' mooch good times! Eet is not for thee fun thot you live, you
know?" he went on, academically, continuing to disentangle the harness.
"Eet is for thee work thot you live! Work--thot's thee answer!" Then,
having straightened the harness at last, with a grunt of satisfaction he
tossed it lightly up.
Instantly there was wild commotion. With a kick and a plunge the horse
flung off the harness.
Felipe stood dumfounded. It had never occurred to him that the horse was
not broken to harness. Horses reared as this one evidently had been
reared ought certainly to be educated to all kinds of service. Yet this
horse evidently was not. He scratched his head in perplexity. To break a
horse to harness was no child's play, as he well knew. To break a horse
of this character to harness, as he well understood also, was a task
that required exceptional patience and hardihood. What should he do?
There was his constant press for money. The aged mare having almost
dropped in the trail the evening before, was unfit for toil, and to
break a horse to harness meant loss of time, and, as every one knows,
loss of time meant loss of money. So what should he do? He was utterly
at a loss.
Striding to the doorstep, he sat down and regarded the horse with
malevolent disgust. After a time, jerking off his hat savagely, he burst
out into a thundering tirade.
"You black devil! You haf give me more trouble than anyt'ing I haf ever
own--chickens, burro, pigs, horses, money--money, even--money I haf owe
thot robber Pedro! First you haf run away thot time! Then you haf mek me
steal you out of thot place couple days before! And now"--he suddenly
leaped to his feet--"now you haf mek me break you to thees wagon and
harness!" He advanced to the startled horse and brandished his fist.
"But I break you!" he snarled--"I break you like a horse never was broke
before! And--and if I don' break you--if you don' do what I haf say--I
break every bone inside!" With this he began feverishly to peel off his
coat.
And this is the lot of the dumb. Merely for not knowing what a man
believed he should know, Pat was to be humiliated, was to be punished
far beyond justice and decency. And because he was a horse abnormally
highstrung and sensitive, this punishment was to be doubly cruel. To him
a blow was more painful than to the average horse, even as a word of
kindness sank deeper and remained longer to soften his memory. On his
maternal side he was the offspring of native stock, but he was blooded
to the last least end of him, and while from his mother he had inherited
his softer traits, like his affection for those who showed affection for
him, it was from his sire, unknown though he was, that he inherited an
almost human spirit of rebellion when driven by lash or harsh word, and
also the strength to exercise it. In the face of these qualities, then,
he was to be broken to harness and a wagon by a man!
Felipe lost little time in preparation. He set out through the
settlement, his destination a distant and kindly neighbor. He moved at a
stride so vigorous that the good townspeople, roused by the rare
spectacle of a man in a hurry, interrupted their passive loafing beside
well and in doorway, and turned wondering eyes after him. But if their
eyes showed wonderment at his going, on his return they showed amazement
and a kind of horror. For Felipe, acting for once in the capacity of
work-horse, was straining along at the end of a huge wagon-tongue
affixed to a crude and mastodonic axle which in turn supported two
monolithic cart-wheels. It was a device by which he meant to break the
horse to harness, and, perspiring freely, and swearing even more freely,
he dragged it shrieking for grease through the settlement, really at
work, but work which was not to be admired. Reaching the clearing in
front of his house, he dropped the heavy tongue and whipped out a red
handkerchief with a sigh of relief. Also, as he wiped away the
perspiration on his forehead and neck and arms, he turned baleful eyes
upon the innocent cause of his toil.
"You black devil!" he growled, after a moment. "I feex you now--bet you'
life! And you can keeck--and keeck and keeck! You don' worry thees cart
mooch! You black devil!"
Then he became active again. He strode back into the corral, sought out
an old harness and a huge collar, and dragged them forward into the
trail. Flinging them aside in the direction of the cart, he then turned
to the mare, removed the work-harness from her, and led her into
position before the warlike vehicle. Again perspiring freely, but losing
no breath now in abusive talk, he quickly harnessed her up and then
strode forward to the black. After eying him narrowly a moment, he
seized his bridle and led him back alongside the mare, where he
proceeded nervously to harness him.
"We see now," he began, as he picked up the massive collar. "You can
stond still--thot's right! And maybe you can take thees t'ing--we see!"
The collar was much too large for workaday use, but it was not too large
for this purpose. Its very size gave it freedom to pass over the head
without the usual twisting and turning. Nor did the horse rebel when it
was so placed--a fact which gave Felipe much relief, since he now
believed that he would not have the trouble he had anticipated. Also,
with the collar in position, he was but a moment in adjusting the hames,
making fast the bottom strap, and hooking the tugs securely. With
everything in readiness he then caught up the reins and the whip, and
stepped away to begin the real work of breaking.
"_Haya!_" he cried, and touched up the off-horse. She started
forward, as always with this command from her master. But she did not go
far.
Pat was the cause of the delay. Understanding neither the contraption at
his heels, nor the word of command from the man, he held himself
motionless and pleasantly uninterested, gazing slowly about at the
landscape. Nor did he offer to move when the man cut him viciously with
the whip. The lash pitted his tender flesh and hurt mightily; but even
though he now understood what was required of him, he only became
stubborn--bracing his legs and flattening his ears, forcefully resisting
the counter efforts of the mare beside him.
And this was his nature. Long before he had demonstrated that he would
not be governed by a whip. That day in the Richardses' corral, when he
was broken to saddle, cruelty alone would never have conquered him.
Cruelty there had been, and much of it; but with the cruelty there had
been other things--evidence of affection at the right moment, both in
his mistress and in the men about him, and these, coupled with quick
understanding, had made the breaking a success. And had there been
evidence of kindness now, somewhere revealed early by this man, Pat
might have drawn the cart as the straining mate at his side was
attempting to draw it. But there was no evidence of kindness, and as a
result he remained stubborn and wilful, standing braced and trembling,
true in every particular to the spirit of his forebears.
Nor was Felipe less true to the spirit within himself. Infuriated,
uncompromising, believing this to be merely the cussedness natural with
the native horses, he abandoned all hope of instant success and gave way
to brutality. Dropping the reins and reversing the whip in his hands, he
began to beat the horse unmercifully, bringing the heavy butt down again
and again, each mighty thwack echoing down the canyon. The result was
inevitable. The horse began to kick--straight back at first, then,
finding his hoofs striking the cart, he swung sideways to the tongue and
kicked straight out. This last was sudden, and narrowly missed Felipe,
who leaped to one side. Then, unable to reach the horse with the butt,
he reversed the whip again and resumed his first torture, that of
pitting the legs of the horse with the lash.
"Keeck!" he snarled, continuing to swing the whip. "Keeck! Keeck! I can
keeck, too!" He swung his arm till it ached, when he stopped.
Whereupon the horse settled down. But his eyes were ablaze and he was
trembling all over. Also, while undoubtedly suffering added distress
from the taut and binding traces, he continued to stand at right angles
to the mare--head high, nostrils quivering, mouth adrip with white
slaver--until the spirit of rebellion appeared to grip him afresh. With
a convulsive heave he moved again, making another quarter turn, which
brought him clear of the tongue and facing the vehicle. Then he set up a
nervous little prancing, whisking his tail savagely, now and again
lifting his heels as if to strike. That was all. He gained no ground
forward, nor did it appear as if he would ever move forward.
"You--you--" began Felipe, then subsided, evidently too wrathful for
words. And he remained silent, gazing wearily toward the settlement, as
though about to call assistance.
The stillness was heavy and portentous. Both horses were motionless.
Felipe continued silent. Off toward the settlement all was still.
Overhead, the early-morning sky pressed low, spotless and shimmering,
brooding. Around and about, the flies seemed to stop buzzing. Everywhere
lurked the quiet. The earth appeared bowed in humiliation, hushed in
prayer as for the unfortunate one, while up and down the trail, basking
in world-old light, lay dust of centuries, smug and contented in its
quiescence. All nature was still, gripped in tense quiet.
The crack of a whip broke it. Felipe, suddenly bestirring himself, had
sprung forward and dealt the horse a blow with the butt. Across the
nose, it had sounded hollow and distant; and the horse, whipping up his
head in surprised pain, now turned upon the man a look at once sorrowful
and terrible, a look which spelled death and destruction. Nor did he
only look. With a strange outcry, shrill and piercing, awaking the
canyon in unnatural echoes, he whirled in his harness and reared, reared
despite his harness, and struck out with venomous force. It was quick as
a lightning flash, but, quick as it was, Felipe avoided it. And it was
fortunate that he did. Terror-stricken and dropping the whip, he sped to
the rear, to a point behind the cart, and there turned amazed eyes at
the pirouetting horse.
What manner of horse was this, he asked himself. Could it be that this
horse, black as night, was truly of the lower regions? Certainly he
looked it, balancing there on his hind legs, with his reddened eyes and
inflamed nostrils! And--But what was this? From the corral had come a
shrill nicker, the voice of the aged mare. But that was not it! With the
outcry, seemingly an answer to the black's maddened outcry, the black
dropped to all-fours again, turning quick ears and eyes in the direction
of the sound! What manner of horse was this, anyway? Never before had he
seen such a horse! He felt himself go limp.
There is a call in nature that sounds for life against death. It is a
call put forth in innumerable different tongues around the world, and it
sounds somewhere every second of the day and darkness--through jungles,
across swamps, down mountains, over plains, out of valleys. It is a cry
of warning, a cry to disarm foes. It is an outcry of good as against
evil--the squawk of a hen to her chicks, the bleat of a sheep to her
lambs, the grunt of a sow to her sucklings, the bellow of a cow to her
calf, the purr of a cat to her kittens, the whine of a dog to her
puppies, the drum of a partridge to her young. A cry from the heart to
the heart, an appeal of flesh to its own flesh, it is the world-old
mother-call.
And the horse heard this call. He probably did not recognize in it a
call of the mother-heart, any more than it was possible for the aged
mare to recognize in his outcry the voice of her own flesh. What he did
hear, no doubt, was the voice of a friend, one who understood and
pitied, and would help if it could help. At any rate, he stood very
still, seemingly grateful for the evidence of a champion, seemingly
anxious that it sound again. But it did not sound again. Yet he made no
further effort to give battle. He held to his attitude of intent
listening, ears cocked forward and eyes straining and tail at rest,
until Felipe, stung into action by an idea wrought out of all this,
hastened out from behind the cart and away in the direction of the
corral. At sight of him the horse became restless again, squaring
himself once more to the mare, stamping his feet and champing his bit
nervously. He seemed to lose all recollection of the outcry, all the
peace it had engendered within him. Of such are the kingdom of the dumb.
Possessed by his idea, an idea so brilliant that he himself marveled,
Felipe was not long in putting it to test. He hurriedly bridled the aged
mare and led her out into the trail. He placed her alongside the
black--for reasons which, had the _compadre_ Franke been present,
Felipe might have suggested with a crafty wink--then hastily began to
unhitch the team-mate. And it was just here that he proved his
foresight. In the work of unhitching the mate, he should have
encountered, and had expected, trouble from the black. But he did not.
The mare sounded another friendly nicker when arranged beside him, and
the black, pricking up his ears sharply, turned to her and proceeded to
establish his friendship by licking her. So Felipe did not meet with
difficulty from that direction; nor did he have trouble in the direction
of the team-mate herself. She seemed glad to be relieved from her
unsuccessful task, and Felipe, glad to relieve her in the light of his
brilliant idea, led her off to one side quickly, then returned and swung
the old mare into her place. He hitched her up, picked up the reins and
whip, and set about with his test.
"We see now," he began, his voice quiet and encouraging. "Maybe you work
wit' thee old woman! We see!" And he gave a low command.
With the command Pat started forward, urged to it by the aged
mare--pulling more than his share of the load. Perhaps it was due to her
presence; perhaps to the note of kindness in Felipe's voice. At any
rate, he moved, and he moved forward, and he moved with a steady pull.
Yet he did not proceed far. Though he did not stop through rebellion. It
was simply to renew his attentions to the old mare. He began to caress
her as if he really recognized in this rack of an animal his own lost
mother. But recognition, of course, was impossible. Long before, the
only source of recognition, appeal made through digestive organs, had
disappeared. Nevertheless, he lavished upon her unwonted affection until
Felipe gently but firmly urged him forward again. Then again he
proceeded, pulling all of the load this time, bringing about a slack in
the traces of the mare and a consequent bumping of her hind legs against
the cart which seemed to awaken some of her dying spirit.
Up and down the trail they moved, the mare sedately, the horse actively,
prancing gaily, appearing to take gleeful pleasure in his task, until
Felipe, kindled with elation and pride, decided to drive on into the
settlement and there become the object of covetous eyes. Therefore he
urged the team forward to a point in front of the general store, where
in lordly composure sat Pedro, occupying his customary seat on an empty
keg on the porch. At sight of him Felipe's joy leaped to the heavens,
and he pulled up the team, ostensibly to adjust a forward buckle, but in
reality to afford Pedro an uninterrupted view of the beautiful black.
Moving forward to the head of the horses, he watched out of the tail of
his eye Pedro's lazy survey of the team.
"Where you got thot horse?" inquired Pedro, after a long moment, as he
slowly removed a cigarette from between his lips. "I mean," he added,
"where you haf _steal_ thot _caballo_?"
Felipe winced. But he did not immediately retort. He carried out his
bluff, unbuckling and buckling one of the straps, then mildly
straightened up and faced the man.
"Pedro," he began, tensely, "you haf know--Jose, Juan, Manuel,
Francisco, Carlotta--all haf know--thot eet is only one t'ief in all
thees place! And thot man--thot t'ief--is Pedro Garcia!"
Pedro grunted. "Where you haf steal thot horse?" he repeated, without
show of anger. "You can give me thot horse," he continued, placidly.
"You haf owe me mooch money. I take thot horse for payment--everyt'ing.
You give thot _caballo_ to me."
Felipe turned to the team. "I give you one keeck in thee belly!" he
roared. Then he touched up the horses and started back toward the house.
Gone was all elation, all pride, all gleeful consciousness of
possession.
Gaining the clearing, he decided to try out the other horse with the
black. He realized that the aged mare was unfit, even though in the last
hour she had appeared greatly to improve, and he must accordingly match
up a team. So he unhitched her and swung the mate into place. He met
with disagreeable surprise, however. The black would not pull with this
horse. Instead, he held himself quietly at rest, gazing about sleepily
over the landscape, a trick of his, as Felipe had learned, when quietly
rebelling. Felipe looked at him a moment, but did not try to force him
with tongue or lash. For he was coming to understand this horse, and,
concluding that sooner or later, under proper treatment, he would
probably accept duty with any mate, determined to abandon work for the
day. Whereupon he unhitched the horses and led them all back into the
corral. Then he put up the bars and set out in the direction of the
settlement.
Which ended Pat's second great lesson at the hand of man. He was sore
and somewhat stiff from the struggle, but he did not fret long over his
condition, for he soon awoke to the presence of that beside him in the
corral which caused him to forget himself completely. It was the
worn-out structure of skin and bones who had befriended him in his hour
of trial. He gazed at her a moment, then approached and fell to
caressing her, showing in this attention his power to forget
self--aches, sores, troubles--in his affection and gratitude toward all
things warranting affection and gratitude.