One autumn Master determined to "go West." Why he went I do not know,
but he was to stay "some months," they said. How I did hope he would
take me along, but he did not.
"Be kind to Dandy," was his parting injunction, as usual, to Herman, the
man who had succeeded Park Winters as hostler.
Of course, I did not know what going West means, and could not think
that "some months" were longer than the time he had spent in Chicago.
The morning he started he came into my stall and talked to me a long
while. Among other things he said: "Be a good boy, Dandy, and when I
come home we'll go and live at the farm--you and I."
I did miss him so! The days were all dreary, and I dreaded to go to
sleep at night, because I would be obliged to awake to a fresh sense of
my loss.
I cannot begin to give all my experience during his absence, but will
note a few instances. Of a truth, I realized as never before what it is
to be a horse.
Dr. and Mrs. Wallace were not a happy couple. The latter was less
outspoken than in the early days of her married life, but she was
equally as self-willed, only more cunning and underhanded about it. Fred
drank all the time, but people could not ordinarily tell when he was
intoxicated. The barn boys said he could "carry a good deal."
The two boys, Chet and Carm, were wild and lawless. The former was smart
and a great student, though. Poor Carm, better but weaker, was always in
disgrace. His teacher and father called him a "numbskull," and gradually
the latter came to indulge Chet in everything and deny Carm just as
prodigally.
There were two other children in the house now--Tommy and Elizabeth, or
"Bobby," as the little girl called herself, and others fell into the
habit.
I liked Bobby from the time Master first held the little yellow-haired
creature on my back, for a ride; and she always clapped her little
hands on seeing me, and cried, "Dandy! Dandy!"
I liked her for herself, and also because Dr. Dick loved her. It did me
good to know that he had this little child to pet and think about.
Things went well enough for a week or so after Master left, then Chet
began to drive me.
Sometimes when the doctor would use me for a long drive in the day, soon
after dark, while I was yet eating my supper, the boy, with some
companion, would come into the barn and put my harness on. Herman would
object, and there would be a fuss between them, always ending in my
being hitched in a buggy or road-cart and driven out.
It was the second time that this occurred that I discovered that Chet
was under the influence of liquor, as was also his companion, and they
carried bottles with them. Chet used the whip freely, and I went as fast
as I could; but the oftener they touched those bottles the harder they
drove. After what seemed to me hours of agony, they pulled up before a
brilliantly lighted old building out in the country, hitched me and
staggered in.
The wind was raw and cold, and the sweat pouring off me. I surely
thought Chet would remember my blanket, but he didn't, and there I had
to stand one, two, three, four or more dreadful hours. Long before they
came out I was alternately chilling and burning. I ached and trembled.
They drove home as fast as they came, whipping nearly all the way,
though I was doing my best.
Herman swore profusely (people did not do that around the barn when
Master was home) as he rubbed me down rapidly with a coarse cloth before
blanketing me closely.
How I felt!
And thirsty--it did seem I must have water or choke, but he gave me none
for some reason.
By morning I was so stiff I could scarcely move, my breath was short and
came hard, and my skin was hot.
Dr. Fred ordered me early.
"I don't think Dandy is able to go out, sir, to-day," Herman replied.
"The young gentlemen had him out all night almost, and he is all
stiffened up."
Dr. Fred muttered something and ordered out the bays, calling out to
Herman, as he drove off, to get Dr. Dick's box of horse medicine and
give me aconite--two-drop doses of the tincture every two hours--until
the fever was gone; then to alternate bryonia, and thus according to
directions given in the book with the box.
I noticed that I began to feel better pretty soon, and by afternoon Mrs.
Wallace said she wanted me hitched up. Herman demurred, but had to
finally give in. I was as stiff as ever when I got home again.
That very night Chet harnessed me again, despite Herman's angry protest,
and drove me ten miles. If only he had taken the trouble to look in my
eyes, I am sure he must have seen how wretched I felt. This time he
carelessly threw a blanket over me, but did not buckle it over my chest,
and in a little while the wind had blown it half off me. It would have
been entirely off--and it might as well have been--but for a corner
catching on the top of the collar. That time gray was showing in the
east before he started for home.
With vile, profane words he bade me "Get up," emphasizing by stinging
blows of the whip, saying to his companion that he must make the ten
miles before his father was up.
I suppose no man was ever compelled to stand tied to a post all night;
if there had, he would surely be going up and down the earth preaching
mercy and justice to those who have the power over horses.
Another thing that made that night especially wearing was the fact that
I was tied short, and my front feet were much lower than my back ones.
Such a strain as I was on!
It does seem that horses deserve the little consideration necessary to
tie them in a decent spot. I have heard many of my kind speak of this
matter. In some villages the hitching places along the sidewalks are
most uncomfortable, the animals being obliged to stand on a twist,
ofttimes with the front feet lower and in a mud puddle.
Is it any wonder we sometimes protest by vigorously pawing the
sidewalks, if we can reach them?
Give us fair play.
Well, I was too lame to get out at all, after that night, for a week. I
had rheumatism. Had Master been there to treat me, I might have
recovered, but Herman knew nothing about horse-doctoring, and so it ran
on. If I did get a little better, it was only to be overdriven and
exposed. Another time there was to be a horse-race five miles off, and
Chet drove Prince and I in the buggy.
Then I found out how it hurts a heavy-bodied, short-legged horse to be
driven with a light-bodied, long-limbed one. He drove, as usual, just as
fast as he could make us go, uphill and down the same. More than once I
thought I should fall, and by the time he stopped I was whiter than even
nature intended me to be, being covered with foam.
Prince was not nearly so tired, but he said it irritated and fretted him
to be driven with a horse of my build.
It was only a little country horse-race, and the animals were chiefly
working ones with neither inclination, strength nor training for the
race-track.
The men were wild with excitement, and betting was going on all around.
After a while three men got on their horses' backs and started. The
crowd yelled and clapped their hands; the riders buried the cruel spurs
in the horses' sides, and leaned as far forward as possible.
Of course, some one had to beat, and it was a long-legged, bony creature
that won the first heat.
Three times the same ones ran, and twice the long-legged one won, but
the others had done their best; yes, more than that, I may say.
Poor things! there they stood, sweat and blood covering their sides,
every nerve and muscle overstrained, and their masters cursing them for
their defeat. The entire afternoon was consumed in this manner. Among
others Prince was taken on the track. I knew by his eye, and the poise
of his head he did not like it, but he behaved nicely until a
cruel-looking fellow got on his back and dug the rowels in; with one
bound he was off, and the rider had hard work to keep his seat. He won
the heat, and I was scarcely enjoying his victory when, quick as a
flash, he reached out and catching the fellow by the shoulder flung him
headlong some feet away.
Some one caught the bridle strap, and, as soon as the fellow could pick
himself up, he flew at the offender, dealing him a blow between the eyes
with a club chancing to be handy.
"Hold on!" Chet cried, but another, and another blow followed. My noble
gray friend staggered, gathered up, staggered again, then fell. A
half-dozen convulsive shivers passed over his frame and he was dead.
In a fury of anger and terror the young master sprang upon Prince's
slayer. They grappled, but strong hands separated them, and Chet had
only to put my harness in the buggy, get on my back and ride sorrowfully
homeward.
Dr. Fred was in a temper, to be sure, and immediately had an officer
after the man who had killed his horse.
All night and, for many nights, I could not close my eyes without
seeming to see poor Prince in the death-throes, and all because he dared
to resent unfair treatment. I heard Herman say that the fellow had paid
for the horse, that Chet and his father had had a quarrel, and that Mrs.
Wallace insisted on the former leaving home.
"Yes, she's mighty keen fer the first woman's boys to leave home,"
remarked an old man who worked around the barn. "She's wantin' 'em out
of the way so her young uns 'll git the property."
"Guess there won't be enough to fight over if Dr. Dick stays away long,"
Herman replied.
Speaking of horse-races reminds me to say that if all race-horses, or
those that are made to run, could tell their stories they would fill
volumes with tales of injustice and suffering. All animals will, if
humanely treated, do their best for their masters; but a kind word and
reassuring pat will go much further toward winning a race than all the
spurs and curses in the world.
Many a race has been lost through the very efforts made to win it.
Coolness and self-possession are indispensable in both horse and rider.
I remember of being at a State fair with my master some years later, and
witnessing a race. Among the competitors was a handsome little black
horse, all grit and goodness, but, owing to its owner being partly
intoxicated, it lost the stake, in consequence incurring his wrath. And
how he did pound the noble little beast!
A number of disapprovals arose from the multitude, but no one ventured
to interfere.
The animal was his, you know.