_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 reloaded 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 you 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 I,
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 such like. No wonder then that poor
Dick Varley, after so much suffering and hardship, came to regard that
pannikin of hot sirup 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. He 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's-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 sideways 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 same 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 so 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, etc., 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.