THE WHITE STALLION
Shif'less Sol led the way through the forest and four ghostly figures
followed in single file. They made no noise as they passed among the
cypresses and magnolias, and oaks of the drooping foliage. No one spoke,
but the leader laughed more than once in his throat, a laugh which never
passed the lips, but which was full of satisfaction nevertheless. He felt
that he, Solomon Hyde, nicknamed the shiftless one, had not lived in vain.
He had achieved the greatest triumph of a life already crowded with
dangers and deeds. To use the phrase of a later day, it was his crowded
hour, and his four comrades gave him all the honor and glory of it.
They came presently to a still, dark channel of water, the bayou, and
stopped on its bank. A light wind had risen, and as it blew among the
cypresses and magnolias and oaks of the drooping foliage, it blew the song
of the triumph of Shif'less Sol. The moonlight fell on his face now and as
his features drew into a smile he, at last, permitted himself to laugh
outright.
"It was wonderful, Sol," said Henry. "We always knew that you were near
us, and we knew, too, that because you were near us we were near to
freedom."
He stepped forward, grasped the hand of the shiftless one, and gave it a
fervent shake. Paul at once did the same, then followed Long Jim and Tom
Ross. Shif'less Sol's face became beatific. He had received his silent
tribute and it was enough. The flavor of it would be with him all the rest
of his life.
"What did you fellers think?" he asked, "when them two big knives came
fallin' down on the floor. I'd hev called to you, but I wuz afeard I'd
stir up them two sentinels on the other side of the house."
"We knew it was you, Sol," replied Paul, "and we knew then that our escape
was certain. Where did you get the knives?"
"I stole them from a tool house," replied Sol with pride. "I guess they
use 'em to cut cane with, or something like that."
"We certainly cut dirt with 'em at a great rate," said Henry, "and here we
are free, the five of us together again, but without arms except the two
knives you threw to us."
The moonlight was deepening and the shiftless one stood in the center of
it. His figure seemed suddenly to swell and the calm, victorious light of
the supreme conqueror came into his eyes.
"Boys," he said, and his voice was even and precise, as a victor's should
be, "when I undertook this here job o' settin' us on our feet agin, I
undertook to do it all. I not only meant to put us on our feet, but to git
us ready fur runnin', too. Boys, I hev took 'The Gall-yun' from the
Spaniards ag'in an' she's waitin' fur us."
"What! what!" they cried in chorus. "You don't mean it, Sol?"
"I shorely do mean it. All the boats that they expect to use to-day wuz
anchored in the bi-yoo or hay-yoo or whatever they call it. 'The
Gall-yun,' our gall-yun, wuz at the end o' the line nearest to the big
river. Nobody wuz on board, but she wuz tied to the boat next to her. I
slipped on her--it was pow'ful dark then an' the Spaniards wuz keepin' a
slip-shod watch, anyhow--cut the rope an' floated her down the stream,
where I've tied her up under sech thick brush that nobody 'cept ourselves
is likely to find her. She'll be thar, waitin' fur us, an' don't you doubt
it. An' fellers all our rifles an' ammunition an' things are on her. It
wuz the captain's boat, an' I s'pose he thought he might ez well hev them
trophies, an' use 'em."
"Is this really true, Sol?" exclaimed Paul, although he did not doubt.
"Gospel truth. We're jest ez well off ez we wuz afore we wuz captured. I
don't think, either, them Spaniards will miss 'The Gall-yun' until
mornin'. So we kin be up an' away with somethin' o' a start."
"Lead on, Sol," said Henry.
Sol led, and resumed the noiseless Indian file. They found the good ship,
"The Galleon," under the overhanging bushes where Sol had left her, and
rejoicingly they took possession again of the boat, their arms, and
supplies.
"Now for New Orleans and the Governor General," said Paul, as they pushed
out into the bayou. There was no current here, but their powerful arms at
the oars soon sent the boat into the Mississippi. There they set the sail
which had been left unchanged, and as a good wind caught it they went on
at a quickening pace. Wind, current, and oars combined made the low banks
pass swiftly by.
It was now the darkest hour and all things were veiled. Each felt a great
satisfaction. They had the courage, after such a great and skillful
escape, to attempt anything.
"It's only lately that I've been gittin' friendly with the Missip," said
Shif'less Sol. "It's a pow'ful big river an' a new one, but me an' this
river are already jest like brothers. It ought all to belong to us people
o' Kentucky. When we git to be a great big settled country, hev we got to
float everything down it, right in among the Spaniards or the French, an'
they able to stop us ef they want to? 'Pears to me thar oughtn't to be
anything but a string o' free countries all along the length o' this big
river."
"I think that is what is likely to happen," said Paul looking into the
future, as he did so often. "We'll always be pressing down, and we can't
help it."
"Anyhow," resumed Shif'less Sol, "I'm glad that we've left that thar place
o' Booly, or Bee-yu-ly, or whatever they call it. Funny these furrin'
people can't pronounce names like they spell. Now we Americans, an' the
English, who use our language, call words jest ez they are, but you never
know what a Frenchman or a Spaniard is goin' to make out o' 'em."
They made good progress throughout the day, and saw no sign of the
flotilla of Alvarez which they had feared might overtake them. They were
agreed that it would be wise for them to reach New Orleans first, and
hence they went boldly forward into the country that they regarded as that
of the enemy, confident of their fortune.
The river widened and narrowed frequently, but always it was very deep. It
was not beautiful here, but the vast current flowing between low shores
had a somber majesty all its own. Its effect upon the imagination of every
one of them was heightened by the knowledge that the stream had come an
immeasurable distance, from unknown regions, and that in the coming it had
gathered into itself innumerable other rivers, most of which also had come
from lands of mystery.
They stopped one morning in the mouth of a clear creek that flowed into
the Mississippi, and decided to spend the day in making repairs, a general
cleaning-up, and a search for fresh food. It was the universal opinion
that they would profit more by such a halt than by pushing on regardless
of everything.
It was a beautiful spot in which they lay. They had gone about a hundred
yards up the creek, and its waters here, about thirty feet across and five
or six feet deep, were perfectly transparent. But this silver stream the
moment it entered the Mississippi was lost in the great, brown current,
swallowed up in an instant by the giant river.
The banks of the creek were low and on either side brilliant wild flowers
grew to the very water's edge. Ferns, lilies, and other plants of deeper
hues, were massed in great beds that ran from the creek edges back to the
forest. Tall birds on immensely long and slender legs stood in the
shallower water and now and then as quick as a flash of lightning darted
down a hooked bill. Invariably the bill came up with a fish struggling in
its grasp.
Beautiful flamingoes hovered about the bank and many birds of brilliant
plumage darted from tree to tree. Few of these sang, except the mocking
bird, which gave forth an incessant mellow note. But it was a scene of
uncommon peace and beauty and all felt its influence.
Henry looked at the creek and the forest through which it came with an
appreciative eye. He knew because the waters of the creek were clear that
it must flow through hard, firm ground, and he was thinking at that moment
of a plan which he intended to carry out later.
Their first work was with the boat. In its long voyage on the river it had
gathered mud and other objects on its bottom. This they could see
perfectly now that it lay in the clear water, and Shif'less Sol and Jim
Hart volunteered to scrape it with two of the shovels that were contained
in the invaluable store house of "The Galleon."
Their offer was accepted, and taking off their clothing, they sprang into
the water. Once a huge cat fish from the Mississippi, unused to man,
brushed against Long Jim's leg, its horn raking him slightly. With a shout
Long Jim sprang almost out of the water and clambered up the side of the
boat.
"Somethin' big bit me!" he cried. "It took one uv my legs with him!"
"It's only a scared cat fish and you still have two legs, Jim," replied
Henry laughing boyishly, because a boy he was in spite of his size and
experience.
Jim looked down, and a great smile of delight unfolded like a fan across
his face from side to side.
"Guess you're right, Henry," he said, "an' I am still all in one piece."
He sprang back into the water, and he and Sol soon finished their task.
After that it was arranged that Sol, Jim, and Tom should give a thorough
furbishing to the boat's interior, wash and dry their spare clothing and
bedding, while Henry and Paul went on a hunt for a deer to replenish their
larder.
"You see, Paul," said Henry, "the waters of this creek are quite clear,
which means that it comes through good, hard ground. It's likely that it
isn't far back to one of the little prairies which I've heard are common
in this part of Louisiana, and in a wild country like this where there's a
prairie there's pretty likely to be deer."
The logic seemed good to Paul. At any rate he was willing enough to go on
a hunt, stretch his legs, and see a new region. Saying that they should
probably be gone all day they started at once, leaving the others
absorbed in the task of housecleaning.
They reached solid ground not far from the creek's edge and walked along
briskly, following the course of the stream back toward its source. The
soil was black and deep and the forest magnificent. Great beeches and
hickories were mingled with the willows and live oaks and cypresses, and
the foliage was thick, green, and beautiful. The birds seemed innumerable,
and now and then flocks of wild fowl rose with a whir from the creek's
edge. Keen, penetrating odors of forest and wild flower came to their
nostrils.
Both boys threw up their heads, inhaled the odors, and thrilled in every
fiber. They were very young, care could never stay with them long and now
they felt only the sheer, pure delight of living. They looked back. The
forest had already shut out their boat, and one who did not know would not
have dreamed that the longest river in the world was only a mile or two
away. They were alone in the wilderness and they did not care. They were
sufficient, for the moment, each to the other.
As they advanced, the creek narrowed and the forest thickened. The trees
not only grew closer together, but there was a vast mass and network of
trailing vines, extended from trunk to trunk and bough to bough. One huge
oak in the very center of an intricate maze of vines was drawn far over
and its boughs were twisted into strange, distorted shapes. It was obvious
to both that the vines, singly so feeble, collectively so powerful, had
done it, and they stood a moment or two wondering at this proof of the
power of united and unceasing effort.
They went a mile or so further on, and Henry led the way toward the left
and from the creek. An instinct or the lay of the land, perhaps, warned
him that the open country was in that direction. The trees, had begun to
thin already, and in another mile they came out upon a beautiful little
rolling prairie. It was quite clear of trees; grass, mingled with wild
flowers, grew high upon it, and at the far edge they saw the figures of
animals grazing.
"Deer!" exclaimed Paul. "There they are, Henry! Just waiting for us!"
Henry took a long and keen look, then shook his head.
"No, not deer, Paul," he said. "Now guess what they are."
"They can't be buffaloes," replied Paul. "I think, Henry, I'm right;
they're deer."
"No," said Henry, "they're horses."
"Horses! Why there are no plantations hereabouts!"
"Not tame horses. Wild horses. Descendants of the horses that the
Spaniards brought to Mexico two or three hundreds ago."
"And which have been spreading northward ever since," continued Paul,
alive with interest. "Let's try to get a near look at them, Henry."
"I'm with you," said Henry.
Full of boyish curiosity they went around the prairie, keeping in the edge
of the woods until they came much nearer to the herd of wild horses,
which numbered about thirty. As a considerable wind was blowing their odor
away from the animals, they could approach very closely without their
presence being suspected.
The horses were clean limbed and well-shaped, and all except one were
small and dark of color. But that one was a noticeable exception. He was
almost pure white, far larger than the others, and he had a great flowing
white mane and tail.
The herd grazed in a bunch, but the magnificent white stallion stood apart
on the side next to the woods. He, too, grazed at intervals, but most of
the time he stood, head erect like a sentinel or rather a leader. It
seemed to both the boys that his whole attitude was full of spirit and
majesty, the vast freedom of the wilderness. He carried, too, the
responsibility for the whole herd and he knew it.
"A prairie King," whispered Paul. "Wouldn't I like to catch such a
splendid animal, Henry, and ride him into New Orleans!"
"No you wouldn't, Paul," replied Henry, "That stallion wasn't made to be
ridden by anybody. Look. Paul, look!"
Henry's last word rose to an excited whisper, and Paul's gaze quickly
followed his pointing finger. Even then he would not have seen anything
had he not looked long and carefully. At last he made out a long, tawny
shape on a low-lying bough of a tree at the very edge of the forest. The
shape was flattened against the bough and almost blended with it.
"A panther!" whispered Paul.
Henry nodded. It was, in fact, a large specimen of the panther or southern
cougar, and Henry whispered again:
"See what he is after!"
A small colt from the herd had wandered dangerously near to the forest and
the bough on which the cougar lay, watching him with the yellow, famished
eyes of the great, hungry cat.
"Shoot him, Henry! Shoot him!" whispered Paul. "You can reach him with a
bullet from here. Don't let him kill the poor, little colt!"
"I'd do it if it were needed," replied Henry, "but I don't think it will
be. See, Paul, the Prairie King suspects!"
The great white stallion raised his head a little higher. It may be that
he caught a glimpse of the tawny form and yellow, hungry eyes amid the
foliage of the bough, or it may be that a sudden flaw in the wind brought
to his nostrils the pungent odor of the big cat. He reared and stamped,
the startled colt turned away, and the cougar, afraid that he was about to
lose his chance, sprang.
A yellow compact mass, bristling with sharp, white teeth and long, hooked
claws shot through the air, but the distance was too great. The colt had
turned just in time, and the cougar fell short. He gathered himself
instantly for another spring, but quick as he was, he was not quick
enough.
The boys heard a fierce neigh, and the great stallion, wild with rage,
launched himself upon the cougar. Agile and powerful though the great cat
was, the sharp hoofs trampled him down. Taken at a disadvantage, just at
the moment when his first spring had spent itself, he was no match for the
protector of the herd. No bone could resist the impact of those heavy
terrible hoofs. No skull was thick enough to save. The cougar squealed,
clawed, and bit wildly, but in an incredibly quick space he was trampled
to death and lay quite still. The boys believed that every bone in him
must have been broken.
The herd had run some distance away in fright at the cougar's leap, but
while the swift combat lasted it stood looking on. Now the stallion, after
a last look at the slain robber, turned and walked away in triumph to the
herd that he had protected so well. It seemed to the glorified fancy of
the boys that he held his head higher than ever, and that his great mane
and tail flowed away in new ripples. He stalked proudly at the head of the
herd down to the other side of the prairie, where they went placidly on
with their grazing.
"That is certainly one thing that turned out right," said Paul in a
gratified tone.
"The hoofs of a powerful and enraged wild stallion are a terrible thing,"
said Henry. "Even a deer, which is far smaller, can kill a man with its
hoofs. But if you'll look again, Paul, you'll see that a new danger
threatens our king of horses."
Paul followed Henry's gaze, and he distinctly saw two or three human
figures at the edge of the wood. These figures were hidden from the horses
by a swell of the prairies, and, as in the case of the cougar, the wind
blew their odor away. "Indians?" asked Paul.
"I can't tell at this distance," replied Henry, "but it's more likely that
they belong to the party of Alvarez, and perhaps they know that wild
horses frequent this prairie and others hereabouts. See what they are
doing!"
Paul saw well enough, One man carrying on his arm a coll of rope, the
lariat of Mexico, lay down in the long grass which completely hid him, but
both Henry and Paul knew that he was creeping forward inch by inch toward
the beautiful stallion that was grazing not ten yards from the woods.
"When he comes close enough, if he can do so before the horse takes the
alarm," said Henry, "he will throw the rope and catch the horse by the
neck in the running noose at the end."
"But the horse will take alarm," said Paul hopefully.
"I don't know," said Henry. "He may think in his horse mind that one enemy
in one day is as much as he has need to dread."
It seemed that Henry was right. Exultant in his victory over the cougar,
the Prairie King had relaxed his vigilance. More often now his head was
down, cropping the grass like the rest of the herd. Henry and Paul
believed that they could see the grass rippling as the new and more
cunning enemy crept forward. But it was only agile fancy--they were too
far away.
"What ever happens it's bound to happen soon," said Henry.
Even as he spoke the man in the grass sprang to his feet, threw forth his
right arm, and the rope shot out like a snake uncoiling itself as it
sprang. Both Paul and Henry felt a pang when they saw the loop enclose the
neck of the noble horse, while the man himself and his comrades uttered
loud shouts of exultation.
"He has caught him!" exclaimed Paul sadly.
"Yes," said Henry, "and I'm sorry, but it was a wonderful feat of skill
and patience!"
The frightened herd ran away, and the white stallion reared and struggled,
his great eyes red and distended with rage and astonishment. Two men ran
forward and seized the rope which their comrade had thrown so skillfully.
Then the three pulled hard.
But the quarry was too magnificent. They had miscalculated the white
stallion's strength. Caught by the neck, he dragged, nevertheless, all
three over the prairie, and then, suddenly making a mighty lunge, tore the
rope from their grasp, leaving them thrown headlong to the earth. Away he
went, the long rope flying out behind him like a streamer.
Doubtless some failure of the noose to draw tightly around his neck had
saved the horse, and this was proved when the rope catching in a bush
slipped off over his head as he struggled again. Then the stallion, by
chance, or because his horse's mind inclined him to it, uttered a long,
shrill neigh of triumph, kicked his heels high in the air, and galloped
away, his flowing tail streaming out behind him, a banner of triumph.
"He's won again," said Henry in a tone of gladness. "I told you that horse
wasn't made ever to be ridden."
"But he has to struggle continually for life and freedom," said Paul.
"Just the same as we do," rejoined Henry. "See those fellows are picking
themselves up; but they've been slow about it."
"I don't blame them. I fancy they suffered some pretty severe bruises when
the horse jerked them down. Paul, I think I can make out two white faces
in that party, which almost certainly means that they are the men of
Alvarez. And it says to us that we ought to hurry."
"But not without our deer, I hope," said Paul. They gave one last look at
the far edge of the prairie, where they could still dimly see the white
stallion, now keeping well away from the woods.
"I don't think anything will get him," said Henry, "and I hope not. Just
as we do, he loves to be free."
They, too, re-entered the woods and were fortunate enough to find a deer
quickly. Henry was willing to risk the chance of the shot being heard by
their enemies and his bullet brought it down. Then they cut up the body
and took it back to the boat, where they told all that had occurred. The
others agreed that if Alvarez and his men were in the vicinity they ought
to leave at once, and, transferring the drying clothes from the bank to
the boat, they entered the Mississippi once more and set sail down its
stream.