CHAPTER IX

SLOWLY MAN CREPT NORTHWARD

THE prairie grass began once more to wither and grow grey. The winds

assumed again their autumnal sadness and moaned with an aimless

complaint. Again dead thistles began rolling over the plains, expressing

somehow in their helpless rolling the relentlessness of change. Frosts

rewhitened the morning earth and geese honked again on their flight to

the south.

The herd was grazing on a hillslope. On the top of the hill stood Queen.

The wind was tugging away at her mane and tail, but otherwise she was as

motionless as the hill she was standing on. Her eyes were fixed upon two

horses coming from the southeast and more than a mile away.

Once or twice the brown colt, now a full grown stallion, fat and almost

clumsy, raised his head to look as she was looking; but most of the

others were busy seeking better grasses and wild plants they liked,

until Queen, with a partially suppressed whinny of excitement trotted

away to meet the newcomers. At once the peaceful scene broke into

activity.

But when they had come within a quarter of a mile of the two horses,

they stopped. A white horse that made Queen think of White-black, tied

to a sorrel horse that made her think of the old sorrel work-horse,

running as fast as they could under the circumstances, were coming

toward them, by fits and starts. The white horse, as he came, kept

stepping backward and raising his head every once in a while, only to

leap forward again a few paces. Always as he leaped forward something

dragged him back by the head. They would run on together for a short

distance and then the same thing would happen again.

When they got very near, in spite of her interest, Queen’s fear of the

scent of man which clung to them got the better of her and she led away

till the apparition was out of sight. There the herd waited for its

reappearance. When they did appear the herd fled again. This they kept

up for the greater part of the day. Toward evening Queen made another

attempt to find out just what was wrong. By this time she was convinced

that there was no man with them anywhere, and the labourious manner in

which these miserable creatures followed them mitigated her fear of

their being dangerous.

She went round on a curve and stopped some fifty feet from the two weary

animals. The sorrel, now about a foot behind the white horse, snorting

as if he had great difficulty in breathing, took the opportunity during

the moment’s rest to brace his body with his front legs against the

pulling of the white one. The white one, driven by some fear, began

pulling and tugging as soon as he had caught his breath; but he couldn’t

budge the old fellow an inch. Queen advanced fearfully. The scent of

man, despite the fact that there was no man about, worried her even as

the growing certainty that these were her old companions drew her toward

them. Finally she ventured near enough to touch the white nose that came

forward a few inches to meet hers. White-black it was! Poor, abused

White-black, covered with barn dirt, his sides fallen in through

struggle and lack of sufficient food.

A touch of the old sorrel’s nose brought him to his proper place in her

mind and Queen ran from one to the other, feeling vaguely that the spell

of the dirty barn was still holding both of them in captivity, and

trying to arrive at some plan of helping them, yet not having the

faintest idea of what to do.

The old sorrel was by far the weaker one of the two. He was evidently

just about exhausted. His poor old sides expanded and contracted rapidly

and his dirty flanks were literally wet with foamy perspiration. Though

White-black took advantage of their halt and grazed as far as the

entanglement of straps that held him fast to his mate would allow; the

old sorrel made no attempt to eat. His harness had slipped down his side

and one of his front legs was caught in a loop in one of the straps that

hung from his neck.

The weary old sorrel had hardly regained his breath, when Queen spied a

man on horseback coming after the pair. The herd dashed away to the

north while White-black, dragging the exhausted sorrel behind him,

brought up the rear. The old sorrel did the best he could. The lines

tying his bridle to White-black’s bridle pulled painfully at his lips,

the corners of which were red with blood. Strength was ebbing rapidly

from him and he moved through space as if he were dazed.

Suddenly one of his front legs went into a badger hole. The old fellow

went down with a groan. The groan was immediately followed by several

sharp, successive snaps and White-black was free from his poor,

wretched, old mate. And the poor old sorrel, too, was free, free from

all future agony.

The hanging straps impeded White-black’s flight, but the darkness came

to his rescue. The herd had ceased running. The hoof-beats of the man’s

saddle pony were dying away in the distance. By morning when the man

reappeared on the horizon, White-black, still burdened by his heavy

harness, was free enough to be able to keep up with the herd, for what

was left of the lines, stepped upon so many times during the night, now

hung above his knees.

For more than a week, the man persisted in his futile attempt to catch

the white horse; then, because his saddle pony was completely exhausted,

racing daily with the weight on his back, he gave up the chase with a

vicious hope that White-black would strangle himself in the harness he

carried with him, and a curse upon the wild western broncos that were

“no good anyway.”

But White-black had no inclination to pass out of existence that way,

nor did his notion of value coincide with that of his would-be owner. He

did everything he could think of doing to rid himself of his trying

encumbrance. He would lie down every once in a while and roll in the

hope of thus rubbing the harness off. In time, he managed to loosen the

crupper so that it let the greater part of the harness, the part that

covered his back and sides, slip down on one side of him and drag on the

ground.

This only intensified his discomfort, for every horse that went near him

was sure to step on some strap. Every time some one stepped upon a

strap, however, there was one strap less dragging after him, and in a

few days the whole network of straps was torn from the hames. One day

while he was grazing, the hames suddenly loosened and fell off and the

collar fell down upon his head. A little help with one hoof got it

completely off his head, and so he was free from all but the bridle. The

bit was tormenting enough but since it did not entirely prevent his

grazing and his drinking, and the straps hanging down did not interfere

with his running, he was virtually free again.

It was during the middle of the winter that he was relieved of this last

link in the chain of his captivity. There came a severe blizzard that

kept them lying huddled into each other with nothing to do for a long

time. Queen had always been annoyed by these straps that clung to

White-black and lying close to him, she stretched her neck and began to

chew at them. While she chewed at the straps, White-black ground his

teeth in his persistent effort to dislodge the bit, and suddenly it fell

from his mouth.

When next spring the homesteader, in another vain attempt to recapture

his valuable white horse, got near enough to the herd to see that

White-black did not have on him a piece of all the harness with which he

had run away, he could hardly believe his eyes. That night he told his

neighbours:

“That mare’s got the devil in her. She just took them there harness

right off him. I know it. How else could he get ’em off? When the

critters ran away they both had all their harness on. How in thunder did

he get his bridle off? Tell me that! She’s a devil, that mare! I’ll tell

y’u she went for me like a witch the day I got her colt. I went away and

left her round the barn thinkin’ I’d get her with the help of Colter;

but I reckoned on her bein’ a mare—not a devil! She opened her mouth

just like a wolf. I swear it!”

Because she was able to defend herself against man’s tyranny, they

accused her of having the devil in her; because she was wise enough to

retain her liberty, they cursed and hated her. Yet they had ample reason

for hating her. Within two years after the loss of White-black, not a

homesteader dared release his horses in the fall as they had been in the

habit of doing. To release them was in all probability to lose them.

But keeping them in the barns all winter meant the necessity for

gathering much greater quantities of hay than they were accustomed to

gather, and, worse than that, it meant horses with less energy for

seeding time in the spring.

Every spring, all manner of attempts were made to capture Queen but

every attempt ended in costly failure. Some of the older and weaker

horses were taken from the herd each year, but Queen and all the younger

horses remained free. Once Queen learned that she was being pursued, it

was impossible for them to get within a mile of her.

When these futile attempts to capture her became too annoying, Queen

would invariably turn to the north. The ominous barbed wire fences which

year after year encroached upon the wild, somehow never appeared on the

northern horizon. North, always north, she went, maneuvering with such

cunning about the hills and through the deeper valleys, that for every

mile she was able to put between herself and her pursuers, they were

obliged to travel five.

The Canadian Government embarked upon a campaign of advertisement to

urge farmers in the United States to go north and take up homesteads in

Alberta. Men sold their farms in the northwestern states and moved

across the border. Every year a new crop of homesteader’s shacks

appeared to baffle the desolation. To be sure, many a shack built

hopefully one year stood gaping like a skull the next; but in spite of

the discouraging features of the country, much of the encroachment

yearly made upon Queen’s domains was permanent.

Every springtime with the blossoming of the wild rosebushes and the

prairie cacti, new fence posts with their glittering lines of barbed

wire cut some small portion of her territory on the east, the south and

the west. Slowly man crept northward and with an inborn faith in the

justice and the security of the wilds, Queen fled at his approach.

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Beyond Rope and Fence · 第 9 / 15 章