With Teeth and Hoofs
One of the most important of the many industries of the ranch was the
breeding of horses for the Eastern market. Mr. Melton had a number of
fine horses, but the most valuable of all was Satan, a big black
stallion. His pedigree was as long as his flowing tail, and physically he
was a perfect specimen. His only drawback was a fiendish temper, which it
seemed impossible to subdue. Strangers he would never tolerate, and Mr.
Melton seemed to be the only man on the ranch that could go near him
without running a chance of being badly kicked or bitten. Even he was
always very careful to keep an eye out for mischief whenever in the
neighborhood of the stallion.
All the cowboys hated Satan, and with good reason. More than one of them
bore marks of the horse's sharp teeth, and all of them could tell stories
of narrow escapes experienced while feeding him or otherwise going
through duties that called them into the neighborhood of the beautiful
but vicious animal.
He was pastured in lonely grandeur in a spacious corral, shunned by all,
but apparently happy enough in spite of this. The three boys often
watched him at a safe distance, and regretted that his evil temper made
it impossible to be friendly with him. Satan often lost many a lump of
sugar or delicious carrot that he would have gotten had he been of a more
friendly nature, in this way resembling many humans who build up a wall
of reserve or ill-temper about them, and so lose many of the good things
of life.
Soon after the arrival of the boys at the ranch Mr. Melton decided to
purchase another stallion, as the demand for good horses at that time
was exceptionally great. Accordingly, one day another horse made his
appearance in a corral adjacent to that in which Satan was kept. The new
horse was a good-sized bay, but not quite as large as Satan, although a
little younger. The two corrals were separated by a double fence, so
that, while the two horses could get within a few feet of each other,
they could never get close enough to fight.
From the very beginning they exhibited a mutual hatred, and it was
evident that if they ever got within striking distance of each other
there would be trouble. Everybody on the ranch was strictly enjoined to
keep the gates between the corrals securely fastened, however, and there
seemed no possibility of the two rivals meeting.
"But if they ever should," one of the men had remarked, "there'd be some
scrap, take it from me. There's nothing in the world worse than a fight
between two stallions."
"Why, are they so vicious about it?" Bert, who was standing near, had
asked.
"Vicious!" exclaimed the cowboy, "why, vicious ain't no word for it,
nohow. They're just devils let loose, that's all."
It was only a few days after this that, as the boys were seated around
the table in the ranch house eating luncheon, in company with their host,
one of the cowboys dashed into the room, breathless and red of face.
"Satan an' the bay are fightin'," he cried; "somebody must 'a' left the
gates open an'----"
But Mr. Melton did not wait to hear any more. Leaping to his feet he
dashed through the door in the direction of the corrals. The three
comrades followed close on his heels. As they reached the open they could
hear shouts and cries and the thudding of hoofs. Mr. Melton increased his
pace, and in a few moments they had reached the scene of action.
And it was a fearsome sight that met their eyes. The two big stallions,
the black and the bay, were both in Satan's corral, fighting furiously,
with a rage and viciousness that words are inadequate to describe. They
circled rapidly about, biting at each other with their long yellow teeth,
and lashing out with their hoofs. Each was quick as a flash of light, but
every once in a while a sharp hoof would find its mark, or the deadly
teeth would rip into the other's skin. Blood flowed freely, but neither
seemed to notice the wounds that the other inflicted. They had longed to
decide the question of supremacy ever since the newcomer's arrival, and
now they were determined to settle the matter.
Satan was the stronger of the two, however, and probably in addition
possessed a more evil temper than his rival. Biting, screaming, kicking,
he circled about his enemy, his savage heart bent on the destruction of
the upstart who had dared to invade his domains. As Mr. Melton and the
boys dashed up, the black horse whirled like lightning and planted both
hind hoofs with deadly effect. The bay horse staggered, but his spirit
was still unconquered, and, recovering himself, he rushed for Satan with
a ferocity almost as great as his.
"Stop them! separate them!" shouted Mr. Melton; "what are you standing
around watching them for? One or the other of them will be killed soon,
if we don't do something."
It was but a few moments since the horses had started fighting, although
it had seemed much longer. At first the cowboys had seemed in a sort of
stupor, so suddenly had the thing happened, but at Mr. Melton's words
they sprang into activity. Some of them ran to get pitchforks, while
others secured lariats from their saddles and hurried back to the scene
of battle.
The bay horse was now getting much the worst of it, and it became evident
that if the two infuriated animals were not separated soon the later
arrival would either be killed or else so badly hurt that he would have
to be shot eventually.
Some of the cowboys rushed into the corral and with shouts and cries
endeavored to separate the combatants. The stallions took not the
slightest notice of them, however, except to lash out savagely at them
whenever they came within striking distance.
"They can't do anything that way," muttered Mr. Melton. "Here," he
exclaimed, snatching a coiled lariat from one of his men, "I'll get in
there myself and put an end to this business, or know the reason why."
Lasso in hand he rushed toward the corral, and in a few seconds was
inside. Fortunately, just as he entered the inclosure, the stallions,
exhausted with their efforts, drew apart and stood snorting and pawing
the ground. Mr. Melton realized that here was his opportunity, and
grasped it on the instant. Swinging the loop in great circles about his
head he took careful aim and let go. The rope whizzed through the air,
and the lithe coils settled about Satan's neck.
For a second the black stallion was taken by surprise. He rolled his
bloodshot eyes toward his owner, but for a brief space made no move.
Then with a loud snort of rage he rushed toward the ranchowner, his
foam-flecked jaws gnashing and the breath whistling through his red
nostrils. Mr. Melton stood quiet, but alert, every muscle tense. Then,
when the infuriated stallion was almost upon him, with an agility that
it seemed impossible one of his bulk could possess, he leaped to one
side, and started running backward.
At the same moment he threw the whirling, writhing coil of rope with such
sure aim that it settled with beautiful precision over Satan's powerful
shoulders. Before the rope could tighten, however, the black stallion had
whirled, and was again making for the ranchman.
When the horse was almost upon him Mr. Melton once more leaped aside, and
with a dexterous flick on the rope pulled the loop down over Satan's
back. Before the horse could check his headlong speed Mr. Melton had
worked the loop down about his legs. With a quick jerk he pulled it
taut, and Satan, suddenly hobbled, fell to the earth with a crash.
Several of the cowboys ran up, and in a few seconds the stallion was
securely trussed up. The bay stallion in the meantime had retreated to
the farthest corner of the corral, and was standing there dejectedly, all
the fight gone out of him. He was quickly secured and led back into his
own inclosure. Very carefully Satan was then loosed a trifle, and allowed
to struggle to his feet. He was still "hunting trouble," as one of the
men expressed it, but with the confining ropes about his fetlocks was
powerless. He was left hobbled, and the gate to his corral was fastened
securely this time.
"That was sure a great ropin' stunt you pulled off, boss," said "Curley"
to Mr. Melton. "I never seen the trick done neater, nohow."
"It was great!" Bert exclaimed. "I didn't know you were such an expert
roper, Mr. Melton."
"It wasn't so bad for an old fellow," admitted his host with a smile;
"it took some pretty quick sidestepping to get out of Satan's way, I'll
admit. But when I was twenty years younger I used to rope cattle for a
living, and narrow escapes were part of the business."
He turned and gave a few directions to the men, together with strict
injunctions to keep the two gates between the corrals closed.
"If anything like this happens again," he warned, "somebody's going to
get fired pretty pronto, savvy? And do all you can for the bay. I don't
think he's seriously hurt, and if we're careful we can bring him back
into shape all right."
After this, he and the boys returned to the ranch house, where they
discussed the recent exciting happenings pro and con. The boys had
planned to take an exploring expedition that afternoon, but all thought
of this was banished from their minds. After a while they returned to the
stables, where the stallions were having their wounds doctored. It
appeared that, as Mr. Melton had surmised, neither was very badly injured
physically, but the bay stallion's spirit seemed utterly broken. After
many days, however, he regained the pride which had been so rudely
shattered in his encounter with Satan, and proved to be a valuable horse.
He was of a more gentle disposition also, and accepted the overtures of
friendship that the boys made toward him, so that before their visit at
the ranch came to a close they were on very good terms with him.