HEALTH AND HAPPINESS RETURN--INCIDENTS OF THE JOURNEY--A BUFFALO SHOT--A
WILD HORSE "CREASED"--DICK'S BATTLE WITH A MUSTANG.
Dick Varley's fears and troubles, in the meantime, were ended. On the
day following he awoke refreshed and happy--so happy and light at heart,
as he felt the glow of returning health coursing through his veins, that
he fancied he must have dreamed it all. In fact, he was so certain that
his muscles were strong that he endeavoured to leap up, but was
powerfully convinced of his true condition by the miserable stagger that
resulted from the effort.
However, he knew he was recovering, so he rose, and thanking God for his
recovery and for the new hope that was raised in his heart, he went down
to the pool and drank deeply of its water. Then he returned, and,
sitting down beside his dog, opened the Bible and read long--and, for
the first time, _earnestly_--the story of Christ's love for sinful man.
He at last fell asleep over the book, and when he awakened felt so much
refreshed in body and mind that he determined to attempt to pursue his
journey.
He had not proceeded far when he came upon a colony of prairie-dogs.
Upon this occasion he was little inclined to take a humorous view of the
vagaries of these curious little creatures, but he shot one, and, as
before, ate part of it raw. These creatures are so active that they are
difficult to shoot, and even when killed generally fall into their holes
and disappear. Crusoe, however, soon unearthed the dead animal on this
occasion. That night the travellers came to a stream of fresh water,
and Dick killed a turkey, so that he determined to spend a couple of
days there to recruit. At the end of that time he again set out, but
was able only to advance five miles when he broke down. In fact, it
became evident to him that he must have a longer period of absolute
repose ere he could hope to continue his journey, but to do so without
food was impossible. Fortunately there was plenty of water, as his
course lay along the margin of a small stream, and, as the arid piece of
prairie was now behind him, he hoped to fall in with birds, or perhaps
deer, soon.
While he was plodding heavily and wearily along, pondering these things,
he came to the brow of a wave from which he beheld a most magnificent
view of green grassy plains, decked with flowers, and rolling out to the
horizon, with a stream meandering through it, and clumps of trees
scattered everywhere far and wide. It was a glorious sight; but the
most glorious object in it to Dick, at that time, was a fat buffalo
which stood grazing not a hundred yards off. The wind was blowing
towards him, so that the animal did not scent him, and, as he came up
very slowly, and it was turned away, it did not see him.
Crusoe would have sprung forward in an instant, but his master's finger
imposed silence and caution. Trembling with eagerness Dick sank flat
down in the grass, cocked both barrels of his piece, and, resting it on
his left hand with his left elbow on the ground, he waited until the
animal should present its side. In a few seconds it moved; Dick's eye
glanced along the barrel, but it trembled--his wonted steadiness of aim
was gone. He fired, and the buffalo sprang off in terror. With a groan
of despair he fired again,--almost recklessly,--and the buffalo fell!
It rose once or twice and stumbled forward a few paces, then it fell
again. Meanwhile Dick re-loaded with trembling hand, and advanced to
give it another shot, but it was not needful, the buffalo was already
dead.
"Now, Crusoe," said Dick, sitting down on the buffalo's shoulder and
patting his favourite on the head, "we're all right at last. You and I
shall have a jolly time o't, pup, from this time for'ard."
Dick paused for breath, and Crusoe wagged his tail and looked as if to
say--pshaw! "_as if_!"
We tell ye what it is, reader, it's of no use at all to go on writing
"as if," when we tell you what Crusoe said. If there is any language in
eyes whatever,--if there is language in a tail; in a cocked ear; in a
mobile eyebrow; in the point of a canine nose;--if there is language in
any terrestrial thing at all, apart from that which flows from the
tongue--then Crusoe _spoke_! Do we not speak at this moment to _you_?
and if so, then tell me, wherein lies the difference between a written
_letter_ and a given _sign_?
Yes, Crusoe spoke. He said to Dick as plain as dog could say it, slowly
and emphatically, "That's my opinion precisely, Dick. You're the
dearest, most beloved, jolliest fellow that ever walked on two legs, you
are; and whatever's your opinion is mine, no matter _how_ absurd it may
be."
Dick evidently understood him perfectly, for he laughed as he looked at
him and patted him on the head, and called him a "funny dog." Then he
continued his discourse--"Yes, pup, we'll make our camp here for a long
bit, old dog, in this beautiful plain. We'll make a willow wigwam to
sleep in, you and me, jist in yon clump o' trees, not a stone's throw to
our right, where we'll have a run o' pure water beside us, and be near
our buffalo at the same time. For, ye see, we'll need to watch him lest
the wolves take a notion to eat him--that'll be _your_ duty, pup. Then
I'll skin him when I get strong enough, which'll be in a day or two I
hope, and we'll put one half of the skin below us and t'other half above
us i' the camp, an' sleep, an' eat, an' take it easy for a week or two--
won't we, pup?"
"Hoora-a-a-y!" shouted Crusoe, with a jovial wag of his tail, that no
human arm with hat, or cap, or kerchief ever equalled.
Poor Dick Varley! He smiled to think how earnestly he had been talking
to the dog, but he did not cease to do it, for, although he entered into
discourses, the drift of which Crusoe's limited education did not permit
him to follow, he found comfort in hearing the sound of his own voice,
and in knowing that it fell pleasantly on another ear in that lonely
wilderness.
Our hero now set about his preparations as vigorously as he could. He
cut out the buffalo's tongue--a matter of great difficulty to one in his
weak state--and carried it to a pleasant spot near to the stream where
the turf was level and green, and decked with wild flowers. Here he
resolved to make his camp.
His first care was to select a bush whose branches were long enough to
form a canopy over his head when bent, and the ends thrust into the
ground. The completing of this exhausted him greatly, but after a rest
he resumed his labours. The next thing was to light a fire--a comfort
which he had not enjoyed for many weary days. Not that he required it
for warmth, for the weather was extremely warm, but he required it to
cook with, and the mere _sight_ of a blaze in a dark place is a most
heart-cheering thing as every one knows.
When the fire was lighted he filled his pannikin at the brook and put it
on to boil, and, cutting several slices of buffalo tongue, he thrust
short stakes through them and set them up before the fire to roast. By
this time the water was boiling, so he took it off with difficulty,
nearly burning his fingers and singeing the tail of his coat in so
doing. Into the pannikin he put a lump of maple sugar and stirred it
about with a stick, and tasted it. It seemed to him even better than
tea or coffee. It was absolutely delicious!
Really one has no notion what he can do if he makes believe _very hard_.
The human mind is a nicely balanced and extremely complex machine, and
when thrown a little off the balance can be made to believe almost
anything, as we see in the case of some poor monomaniacs, who have
fancied that they were made of all sorts of things--glass and porcelain,
and suchlike. No wonder then that poor Dick Varley, after so much
suffering and hardship, came to regard that pannikin of hot syrup as the
most delicious beverage he ever drank.
During all these operations Crusoe sat on his haunches beside him and
looked. And you haven't--no, you haven't--got the most distant notion
of the way in which that dog manoeuvred with his head and face! He
opened his eyes wide, and cocked his ears, and turned his head first a
little to one side, then a little to the other. After that he turned it
a _good deal_ to one side and then a good deal more to the other. Then
he brought it straight and raised one eyebrow a little, and then the
other a little, and then both together very much. Then, when Dick
paused to rest and did nothing, Crusoe looked mild for a moment, and
yawned vociferously. Presently Dick moved--up went the ears again and
Crusoe came--in military parlance--"to the position of attention!" At
last supper was ready and they began.
Dick had purposely kept the dog's supper back from him, in order that
they might eat it in company. And between every bite and sup that Dick
took, he gave a bite--but not a sup--to Crusoe. Thus lovingly they ate
together; and, when Dick lay that night under the willow branches
looking up through them at the stars, with his feet to the fire, and
Crusoe close along his side, he thought it the best and sweetest supper
he ever ate, and the happiest evening he ever spent--so wonderfully do
circumstances modify our notions of felicity!
Two weeks after this "Richard was himself again." The muscles were
springy, and the blood coursed fast and free, as was its wont. Only a
slight, and, perhaps, salutary feeling of weakness remained, to remind
him that young muscles might again become more helpless than those of an
aged man or a child.
Dick had left his encampment a week ago, and was now advancing by rapid
stages towards the Rocky Mountains, closely following the trail of his
lost comrades, which he had no difficulty in finding and keeping, now
that Crusoe was with him. The skin of the buffalo that he had killed
was now strapped to his shoulders, and the skin of another animal that
he had shot a few days after was cut up into a long line and slung in a
coil round his neck. Crusoe was also laden. He had a little bundle of
meat slung on each side of him.
For some time past numerous herds of mustangs or wild horses, had
crossed their path, and Dick was now on the look out for a chance to
_crease_ one of those magnificent creatures.
On one occasion a band of mustangs galloped close up to him before they
were aware of his presence, and stopped short with a wild snort of
surprise on beholding him; then, wheeling round, they dashed away at
full gallop, their long tails and manes flying wildly in the air, and
their hoofs thundering on the plain. Dick did not attempt to crease one
upon this occasion, fearing that his recent illness might have rendered
his hand too unsteady for so extremely delicate an operation.
In order to crease a wild horse the hunter requires to be a perfect
shot, and it is not every man of the west who carries a rifle that can
do it successfully. Creasing consists in sending a bullet through the
gristle of the mustang's neck, just above the bone, so as to stun the
animal. If the ball enters a hair's-breadth too low, the horse falls
dead instantly. If it hits the exact spot the horse falls as
instantaneously, and dead to all appearance; but, in reality, he is only
stunned, and if left for a few minutes will rise and gallop away nearly
as well as ever. When hunters crease a horse successfully they put a
rope, or halter, round his under jaw, and hobbles round his feet, so
that when he rises he is secured, and, after considerable trouble,
reduced to obedience.
The mustangs which roam in wild freedom on the prairies of the far west,
are descended from the noble Spanish steeds that were brought over by
the wealthy cavaliers who accompanied Fernando Cortez, the conqueror of
Mexico, in his expedition to the new world in 1518. These bold, and, we
may add, lawless cavaliers, were mounted on the finest horses that could
be procured from Barbary and the deserts of the Old World. The poor
Indians of the New World were struck with amazement and terror at these
awful beings, for, never having seen horses before, they believed that
horse and rider were one animal. During the wars that followed many of
the Spaniards were killed and their steeds bounded into the wilds of the
new country to enjoy a life of unrestrained freedom. These were the
forefathers of the present race of magnificent creatures which are found
in immense droves all over the western wilderness, from the Gulf of
Mexico to the confines of the snowy regions of the far north.
At first the Indians beheld these horses with awe and terror, but
gradually they became accustomed to them, and finally succeeded in
capturing great numbers and reducing them to a state of servitude. Not,
however, to the service of the cultivated field, but to the service of
the chase and war. The savages soon acquired the method of capturing
wild horses by means of the lasso--as the noose at that end of a long
line of raw hide is termed--which they adroitly threw over the heads of
the animals and secured them, having previously run them down. At the
present day many of the savage tribes of the west almost live upon
horseback, and without these useful creatures they could scarcely
subsist, as they are almost indispensable in the chase of the buffalo.
Mustangs are regularly taken by the Indians to the settlements of the
white men for trade, but very poor specimens are these of the breed of
wild horses. This arises from two causes. First, the Indian cannot
overtake the finest of a drove of wild mustangs, because his own steed
is inferior to the best among the wild ones, besides being weighted with
a rider, so that only the weak and inferior animals are captured. And,
secondly, when the Indian does succeed in lassoing a first-rate horse he
keeps it for his own use. Thus, those who have not visited the far-off
prairies and seen the mustang in all the glory of untrammelled freedom,
can form no adequate idea of its beauty, fleetness, and strength.
The horse, however, was not the only creature imported by Cortez. There
were priests in his army who rode upon asses, and, although we cannot
imagine that the "fathers" charged with the cavaliers and were unhorsed,
or, rather, un-assed in battle, yet, somehow, the asses got rid of their
riders and joined the Spanish chargers in their joyous bound into a new
life of freedom. Hence wild asses also are found in the western
prairies. But think not, reader, of those poor miserable wretches we
see at home, which seem little better than rough door-mats sewed up and
stuffed; with head, tail, and legs attached, and just enough of life
infused to make them move! No, the wild ass of the prairie is a large,
powerful, swift creature. He has the same long ears, it is true, and
the same hideous, exasperating bray, and the same tendency to flourish
his heels; but, for all that he is a very fine animal, and often wages
_successful_ warfare with the wild horse!
But to return. The next drove of mustangs that Dick and Crusoe saw were
feeding quietly and unsuspectingly in a rich green hollow in the plain.
Dick's heart leaped up as his eyes suddenly fell on them, for he had
almost discovered himself before he was aware of their presence.
"Down, pup!" he whispered, as he sank and disappeared among the grass
which was just long enough to cover him when lying quite flat.
Crusoe crouched immediately, and his master made his observations of the
drove, and the dispositions of the ground that might favour his
approach, for they were not within rifle range. Having done so he crept
slowly back until the undulation of the prairie hid him from view; then
he sprang to his feet, and ran a considerable distance along the bottom
until he gained the extreme end of a belt of low bushes, which would
effectually conceal him while he approached to within a hundred yards or
less of the troop.
Here he made his arrangements. Throwing down his buffalo robe, he took
the coil of line and cut off a piece of about three yards in length. On
this he made a running noose. The longer line he also prepared with a
running noose. These he threw in a coil over his arm.
He also made a pair of hobbles and placed them in the breast of his
coat, and then, taking up his rifle, advanced cautiously through the
bushes--Crusoe following close behind him. In a few minutes he was
gazing in admiration at the mustangs which were now within easy shot,
and utterly ignorant of the presence of man, for Dick had taken care to
approach in such a way that the wind did not carry the scent of him in
their direction.
And well might he admire them. The wild horse of these regions is not
very large, but it is exceedingly powerful, with prominent eye, sharp
nose, distended nostril, small feet, and a delicate leg. Their
beautiful manes hung at great length down their arched necks, and their
thick tails swept the ground. One magnificent fellow in particular
attracted Dick's attention. It was of a rich dark brown colour, with
black mane and tail, and seemed to be the leader of the drove.
Although not the nearest to him, he resolved to crease this horse. It
is said that creasing generally destroys or damages the spirit of the
horse, so Dick determined to try whether his powers of close shooting
would not serve him on this occasion. Going down on one knee he aimed
at the creature's neck, just a hair-breadth above the spot where he had
been told that hunters usually hit them, and fired. The effect upon the
group was absolutely tremendous. With wild cries and snorting terror
they tossed their proud heads in the air, uncertain for one moment in
which direction to fly; then there was a rush as if a hurricane swept
over the place, and they were gone.
But the brown horse was down. Dick did not wait until the others had
fled. He dropped his rifle, and with the speed of a deer, sprang
towards the fallen horse, and affixed the hobbles to his legs. His aim
had been true. Although scarcely half a minute elapsed between the shot
and the fixing of the hobbles the animal recovered, and with a frantic
exertion rose on his haunches, just as Dick had fastened the noose of
the short line in his under jaw. But this was not enough. If the horse
had gained his feet before the longer line was placed round his neck, he
would have escaped. As the mustang made the second violent plunge that
placed it on its legs, Dick flung the noose hastily; it caught on one
ear, and would have fallen off, had not the horse suddenly shaken its
head, and unwittingly sealed its own fate by bringing the noose round
its neck.
And now the struggle began. Dick knew well enough, from hearsay, the
method of "breaking down" a wild horse. He knew that the Indians choke
them with the noose round the neck until they fall down exhausted and
covered with foam, when they creep up, fix the hobbles and the line in
the lower jaw, and then loosen the lasso to let the horse breathe, and
resume its plungings till it is almost subdued, when they gradually draw
near and breathe into its nostrils. But the violence and strength of
this animal rendered this an apparently hopeless task. We have already
seen that the hobbles and noose in the lower jaw had been fixed, so that
Dick had nothing now to do but to choke his captive, and tire him out,
while Crusoe remained a quiet, though excited spectator of the scene.
But there seemed to be no possibility of choking this horse. Either the
muscles of his neck were too strong, or there was something wrong with
the noose which prevented it from acting, for the furious creature
dashed and bounded backwards and sidewise in its terror for nearly an
hour, dragging Dick after it, till he was almost exhausted, and yet, at
the end of that time, although flecked with foam and panting with
terror, it seemed as strong as ever. Dick held both lines, for the
short one attached to its lower jaw gave him great power over it. At
last he thought of seeking assistance from his dog.
"Crusoe," he cried, "lay hold, pup."
The dog seized the long line in his teeth, and pulled with all his
might. At the some moment Dick let go the short line and threw all his
weight upon the long one. The noose tightened suddenly under this
strain, and the mustang, with a gasp, fell choking to the ground.
Dick had often heard of the manner in which the Mexicans "break" their
horses, so he determined to abandon the method which had already almost
worn him out, and adopt the other, as far as the means in his power
rendered it possible. Instead, therefore, of loosening the lasso and
re-commencing the struggle, he tore a branch from a neighbouring bush,
cut the hobbles, strode with his legs across the fallen steed, seized
the end of the short line or bridle, and then, ordering Crusoe to quit
his hold, he loosened the noose which compressed the horse's neck, and
had already well-nigh terminated its existence.
One or two deep sobs restored it, and in a moment it leaped to its feet
with Dick firmly on its back! To say that the animal leaped and kicked
in its frantic efforts to throw this intolerable burden would be a tame
manner of expressing what took place. Words cannot adequately describe
the scene. It reared, plunged, shrieked, vaulted into the air, stood
straight up on its hind-legs, and then almost as straight upon its fore
ones, but its rider held on like a burr. Then the mustang raced wildly
forwards a few paces, then as wildly back, and then stood still and
trembled violently. But this was only a brief lull in the storm, so
Dick saw that the time was now come to assert the superiority of his
race.
"Stay back, Crusoe, and watch my rifle, pup," he cried, and, raising his
heavy switch he brought it down with a sharp cut across the horse's
flank, at the same time loosening the rein which hitherto he had held
tight.
The wild horse uttered a passionate cry, and sprang forward like the
bolt from a cross-bow.
And now commenced a race, which, if not as prolonged, was at least as
furious as that of the far-famed Mazeppa. Dick was a splendid rider,
however,--at least as far as "sticking on" goes. He might not have come
up to the precise pitch desiderated by a riding-master in regard to
carriage, etcetera, but he rode that wild horse of the prairie with as
much ease as he had formerly ridden his own good steed, whose bones had
been picked by the wolves not long ago.
The pace was tremendous, for the youth's weight was nothing to that
muscular frame which bounded with cat-like agility from wave to wave of
the undulating plain in ungovernable terror. In a few minutes the clump
of willows where Crusoe and his rifle lay were out of sight behind, but
it mattered not, for Dick had looked up at the sky and noted the
position of the sun at the moment of starting. Away they went on the
wings of the wind, mile after mile over the ocean-like waste--curving
slightly aside now and then to avoid the bluffs that occasionally
appeared on the scene for a few minutes and then swept out of sight
behind them. Then they came to a little rivulet; it was a mere brook of
a few feet wide, and two or three yards, perhaps, from bank to bank.
Over this they flew, so easily that the spring was scarcely felt, and
continued the headlong course. And now a more barren country was around
them. Sandy ridges and scrubby grass appeared everywhere, reminding
Dick of the place where he had been so ill. Rocks, too were scattered
about, and at one place the horse dashed with clattering hoofs between a
couple of rocky sand-hills which, for a few seconds, hid the prairie
from view. Here the mustang suddenly shied with such violence that his
rider was nearly thrown, while a rattlesnake darted from the path. Soon
they emerged from this pass, and again the plains became green and
verdant. Presently a distant line of trees showed that they were
approaching water, and in a few minutes they were close on it. For the
first time Dick felt alarm; he sought to check his steed, but no force
he could exert had the smallest influence on it.
Trees and bushes flew past in bewildering confusion; the river was
before him; what width, he could not tell, but he was reckless now, like
his charger, which he struck with the willow rod with all his force as
they came up. One tremendous bound, and they were across, but Dick had
to lie flat on the mustang's back as it crashed through the bushes to
avoid being scraped off by the trees. Again they were on the open
plain, and the wild horse began to show signs of exhaustion.
Now was its rider's opportunity to assert his dominion. He plied the
willow rod and urged the panting horse on, until it was white with foam
and laboured a little in its gait. Then Dick gently drew the halter,
and it broke into a trot; still tighter--and it walked--and in another
minute stood still, trembling in every limb. Dick now quietly rubbed
its neck, and spoke to it in soothing tones, then he wheeled it gently
round and urged it forward. It was quite subdued and docile. In a
little time they came to the river and forded it, after which they went
through the belt of woodland at a walk. By the time they reached the
open prairie, the mustang was recovered sufficiently to feel its spirit
returning, so Dick gave it a gentle touch with the switch, and away they
went on their return journey.
But it amazed Dick not a little to find how long that journey was. Very
different was the pace, too, from the previous mad gallop, and often
would the poor horse have stopped had Dick allowed him. But this might
not be. The shades of night were approaching, and the camp lay a long
way ahead.
At last it was reached, and Crusoe came out with great demonstrations of
joy, but was sent back lest he should alarm the horse. Then Dick jumped
off his back, stroked his head, put his cheek close to his mouth, and
whispered softly to him, after which he fastened him to a tree and
rubbed him down slightly with a bunch of grass. Having done this, he
left him to graze as far as his tether would permit, and, after supping
with Crusoe, lay down to rest, not a little elated with his success in
this first attempt at "creasing" and "breaking" a mustang.