CHAPTER XVI.
_Dick becomes a horse tamer--Resumes his journey--Charlie'sdoings--Misfortunes which lead to, but do not terminate in, the RockyMountains--A grizzly bear_.
There is a proverb--or a saying--or at least somebody or book has toldus, that some Irishman once said, "Be aisy; or, if ye can't be aisy,be as aisy as ye can."
Now, we count that good advice, and strongly recommend it to all andsundry. Had we been at the side of Dick Varley on the night after histaming of the wild horse, we would have strongly urged that adviceupon him. Whether he would have listened to it or not is quite anotherquestion; we rather think not. Reader, if you wish to know why, go anddo what he did, and if you feel no curious sensations about the regionof the loins after it, we will tell you why Dick Varley wouldn't havelistened to that advice. Can a man feel as if his joints were wrenchedout of their sockets, and listen to advice--be that advice good orbad? Can he feel as though these joints were trying to re-set andre-dislocate themselves perpetually, and listen to advice? Can he feelas if he were sitting down on red-hot iron, when he's not sitting downat all, and listen to advice? Can he--but no! why pursue the subject.Poor Dick spent that night in misery, and the greater part of thefollowing day in sleep, to make up for it.
When he got up to breakfast in the afternoon he felt much better, butshaky.
"Now, pup," he said, stretching himself, "we'll go and see our horse._Ours_, pup; yours and mine: didn't you help to catch him, eh, pup?"
Crusoe acknowledged the fact with a wag and a playful"bow-wow--wow-oo-ow!" and followed his master to the place wherethe horse had been picketed. It was standing there quite quiet, butlooking a little timid.
Dick went boldly up to it, and patted its head and stroked its nose,for nothing is so likely to alarm either a tame or a wild horse as anyappearance of timidity or hesitation on the part of those who approachthem.
After treating it thus for a short time, he stroked down its neck,and then its shoulders--the horse eying him all the time nervously.Gradually he stroked its back and limbs gently, and walked quietlyround and round it once or twice, sometimes approaching and sometimesgoing away, but never either hesitating or doing anything abruptly.This done, he went down to the stream and filled his cap with waterand carried it to the horse, which snuffed suspiciously and backed alittle; so he laid the cap down, and went up and patted him again.Presently he took up the cap and carried it to his nose. The poorcreature was almost choking with thirst, so that, the moment heunderstood what was in the cap, he buried his lips in it and sucked itup.
This was a great point gained: he had accepted a benefit at the handsof his new master; he had become a debtor to man, and no doubt he feltthe obligation. Dick filled the cap and the horse emptied it again,and again, and again, until its burning thirst was slaked. Then Dickwent up to his shoulder, patted him, undid the line that fastened him,and vaulted lightly on his back!
We say _lightly_, for it was so, but it wasn't _easily_, as Dick couldhave told you! However, he was determined not to forego the trainingof his steed on account of what _he_ would have called a "little bitpain."
At this unexpected act the horse plunged and reared a good deal, andseemed inclined to go through the performance of the day before overagain; but Dick patted and stroked him into quiescence, and havingdone so, urged him into a gallop over the plains, causing the dog togambol round in order that he might get accustomed to him. This triedhis nerves a good deal, and no wonder, for if he took Crusoe for awolf, which no doubt he did, he must have thought him a very giant ofthe pack.
By degrees they broke into a furious gallop, and after breathing himwell, Dick returned and tied him to the tree. Then he rubbed him downagain, and gave him another drink. This time the horse smelt his newmaster all over, and Dick felt that he had conquered him by kindness.No doubt the tremendous run of the day before could scarcely be calledkindness, but without this subduing run he never could have broughtthe offices of kindness to bear on so wild a steed.
During all these operations Crusoe sat looking on with demuresagacity--drinking in wisdom and taking notes. We know not whether anynotes made by the canine race have ever been given to the world, butcertain are we that, if the notes and observations made by Crusoe onthat journey were published, they would, to say the least, surpriseus!
Next day Dick gave the wild horse his second lesson, and his name.He called him "Charlie," after a much-loved companion in the MustangValley. And long and heartily did Dick Varley laugh as he told thehorse his future designation in the presence of Crusoe, for it struckhim as somewhat ludicrous that a mustang which, two days ago, pawedthe earth in all the pride of independent freedom, should suddenlycome down so low as to carry a hunter on his back and be namedCharlie.
The next piece of instruction began by Crusoe being led up underCharlie's nose, and while Dick patted the dog with his right hand hepatted the horse with his left. It backed a good deal at first andsnorted, but Crusoe walked slowly and quietly in front of him severaltimes, each time coming nearer, until he again stood under his nose;then the horse smelt him nervously, and gave a sigh of relief when hefound that Crusoe paid no attention to him whatever. Dick then orderedthe dog to lie down at Charlie's feet, and went to the camp to fetchhis rifle, and buffalo robe, and pack of meat. These and all the otherthings belonging to him were presented for inspection, one by one, tothe horse, who arched his neck, and put forward his ears, and eyedthem at first, but smelt them all over, and seemed to feel more easyin his mind.
Next, the buffalo robe was rubbed over his nose, then over his eyesand head, then down his neck and shoulder, and lastly was placed onhis back. Then it was taken off and _flung_ on; after that it wasstrapped on, and the various little items of the camp were attached toit. This done, Dick took up his rifle and let him smell it; then heput his hand on Charlie's shoulder, vaulted on to his back, and rodeaway.
Charlie's education was completed. And now our hero's journey beganagain in earnest, and with some prospect of its speedy termination.
In this course of training through which Dick put his wild horse, hehad been at much greater pains and had taken far longer time than isusually the case among the Indians, who will catch, and "break," andride a wild horse into camp in less than _three hours_. But Dickwanted to do the thing well, which the Indians are not careful todo; besides, it must be borne in remembrance that this was hisfirst attempt, and that his horse was one of the best and mosthigh-spirited, while those caught by the Indians, as we have said, aregenerally the poorest of a drove.
Dick now followed the trail of his lost companions at a rapid pace,yet not so rapidly as he might have done, being averse to exhaustinghis good dog and his new companion. Each night he encamped under theshade of a tree or a bush when he could find one, or in the openprairie when there were none, and, picketing his horse to a shortstake or pin which he carried with him for the purpose, lit his fire,had supper, and lay down to rest. In a few days Charlie became sotame and so accustomed to his master's voice that he seemed quitereconciled to his new life. There can be no doubt whatever that he hada great dislike to solitude; for on one occasion, when Dick and Crusoewent off a mile or so from the camp, where Charlie was tied, anddisappeared from his view, he was heard to neigh so loudly that Dickran back, thinking the wolves must have attacked him. He was allright, however, and exhibited evident tokens of satisfaction when theyreturned.
On another occasion his fear of being left alone was more clearlydemonstrated.
Dick had been unable to find wood or water that day, so he was obligedto encamp upon the open plain. The want of water was not seriouslyfelt, however, for he had prepared a bladder in which he alwayscarried enough to give him one pannikin of hot sirup, and leavea mouthful for Crusoe and Charlie. Dried buffalo dung formed asubstitute for fuel. Spreading his buffalo robe, he lit his fire, puton his pannikin to boil, and stuck up a piece of meat to roast, to thegreat delight of Crusoe, who sat looking on with much interest.
Suddenly Charlie, who w
as picketed a few hundred yards off in a grassyspot, broke his halter close by the headpiece, and with a snort ofdelight bounded away, prancing and kicking up his heels!
Dick heaved a deep sigh, for he felt sure that his horse was gone.However, in a little Charlie stopped, and raised his nose high in theair, as if to look for his old equine companions. But they were gone;no answering neigh replied to his; and he felt, probably for the firsttime, that he was really alone in the world. Having no power of smell,whereby he might have traced them out as the dog would have done, helooked in a bewildered and excited state all round the horizon. Thenhis eye fell on Dick and Crusoe sitting by their little fire. Charlielooked hard at them, and then again at the horizon; and then, comingto the conclusion, no doubt, that the matter was quite beyond hiscomprehension, he quietly took to feeding.
Dick availed himself of the chance, and tried to catch him; but hespent an hour with Crusoe in the vain attempt, and at last they gaveit up in disgust and returned to the fire, where they finished theirsupper and went to bed.
Next morning they saw Charlie feeding close at hand, so they tookbreakfast, and tried to catch him again. But it was of no use; he wasevidently coquetting with them, and dodged about and defied theirutmost efforts, for there were only a few inches of line hanging tohis head. At last it occurred to Dick that he would try the experimentof forsaking him. So he packed up his things, rolled up the buffalorobe, threw it and the rifle on his shoulder, and walked deliberatelyaway.
"Come along, Crusoe!" he cried, after walking a few paces.
But Crusoe stood by the fire with his head up, and an expression onhis face that said, "Hallo, man! what's wrong? You've forgot Charlie!Hold on! Are you mad?"
"Come here, Crusoe!" cried his master in a decided tone.
Crusoe obeyed at once. Whatever mistake there might be, there wasevidently none in that command; so he lowered his head and tailhumbly, and trotted on with his master, but he perpetually turned hishead as he went, first on this side and then on that, to look andwonder at Charlie.
When they were far away on the plain, Charlie suddenly became awarethat something was wrong. He trotted to the brow of a slope, with hishead and tail very high up indeed, and looked after them; then helooked at the fire, and neighed; then he trotted quickly up to it, andseeing that everything was gone he began to neigh violently, and atlast started off at full speed, and overtook his friends, passingwithin a few feet of them, and, wheeling round a few yards off, stoodtrembling like an aspen leaf.
Dick called him by his name and advanced, while Charlie met himhalf-way, and allowed himself to be saddled, bridled, and mountedforthwith.
After this Dick had no further trouble with his wild horse.
At his next camping-place, which was in the midst of a cluster ofbushes close beside a creek, Dick came unexpectedly upon a littlewooden cross which marked the head of a grave. There was noinscription on it, but the Christian symbol told that it was the graveof a white man. It is impossible to describe the rush of mingledfeelings that filled the soul of the young hunter as he leaned on themuzzle of his rifle and looked at this solitary resting-place of onewho, doubtless like himself, had been a roving hunter. Had he beenyoung or old when he fell? had he a mother in the distant settlementwho watched and longed and waited for the son that was never more togladden her eyes? had he been murdered, or had he died there and beenburied by his sorrowing comrades? These and a thousand questionspassed rapidly through his mind as he gazed at the little cross.
Suddenly he started. "Could it be the grave of Joe or Henri?" For aninstant the idea sent a chill to his heart; but it passed quickly, fora second glance showed that the grave was old, and that the woodencross had stood over it for years.
Dick turned away with a saddened heart; and that night, as he poredover the pages of his Bible, his mind was filled with many thoughtsabout eternity and the world to come. He, too, must come to the graveone day, and quit the beautiful prairies and his loved rifle. It was asad thought; but while he meditated he thought upon his mother. "Afterall," he murmured, "there must be happiness _without_ the rifle, andyouth, and health, and the prairie! My mother's happy, yet she don'tshoot, or ride like wild-fire over the plains." Then that word whichhad been sent so sweetly to him through her hand came again to hismind, "My son, give me thine heart;" and as he read God's Book, he metwith the word, "Delight thyself in the Lord, and he shall give theethe desire of thine heart." "_The desire of thine heart_" Dickrepeated this, and pondered it till he fell asleep.
A misfortune soon after this befell Dick Varley which well-nigh causedhim to give way to despair. For some time past he had been approachingthe eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains--those ragged, jagged,mighty hills which run through the whole continent from north to southin a continuous chain, and form, as it were, the backbone of America.One morning, as he threw the buffalo robe off his shoulders and satup, he was horrified to find the whole earth covered with a mantleof snow. We say he was horrified, for this rendered it absolutelyimpossible any further to trace his companions either by scent orsight.
For some time he sat musing bitterly on his sad fate, while his dogcame and laid his head sympathizingly on his arm.
"Ah, pup!" he said, "I know ye'd help me if ye could! But it's all upnow; there's no chance of findin' them--none!"
To this Crusoe replied by a low whine. He knew full well thatsomething distressed his master, but he hadn't yet ascertained whatit was. As something had to be done, Dick put the buffalo robe onhis steed, and mounting said, as he was in the habit of doing eachmorning, "Lead on, pup."
Crusoe put his nose to the ground and ran forward a few paces, then hereturned and ran about snuffing and scraping up the snow. At last helooked up and uttered a long melancholy howl.
"Ah! I knowed it," said Dick, pushing forward. "Come on, pup; you'llhave to _follow_ now. Any way we must go on."
The snow that had fallen was not deep enough to offer the slightestobstruction to their advance. It was, indeed, only one of thoseoccasional showers common to that part of the country in the lateautumn, which season had now crept upon Dick almost before he wasaware of it, and he fully expected that it would melt away in a fewdays. In this hope he kept steadily advancing, until he found himselfin the midst of those rocky fastnesses which divide the waters thatflow into the Atlantic from those that flow into the Pacific Ocean.Still the slight crust of snow lay on the ground, and he had no meansof knowing whether he was going in the right direction or not.
Game was abundant, and there was no lack of wood now, so that hisnight bivouac was not so cold or dreary as might have been expected.
Travelling, however, had become difficult, and even dangerous, owingto the rugged nature of the ground over which he proceeded. Thescenery had completely changed in its character. Dick no longercoursed over the free, open plains, but he passed through beautifulvalleys filled with luxuriant trees, and hemmed in by stupendousmountains, whose rugged sides rose upward until the snow-clad peakspierced the clouds.
There was something awful in these dark solitudes, quite overwhelmingto a youth of Dick's temperament. His heart began to sink lower andlower every day, and the utter impossibility of making up his mindwhat to do became at length agonizing. To have turned and gone backthe hundreds of miles over which he had travelled would have causedhim some anxiety under any circumstances, but to do so while Joe andHenri were either wandering about there or in the power of the savageswas, he felt, out of the question. Yet in which way should he go?Whatever course he took might lead him farther and farther away fromthem.
In this dilemma he came to the determination of remaining where hewas, at least until the snow should leave the ground.
He felt great relief even when this hopeless course was decidedupon, and set about making himself an encampment with some degree ofcheerfulness. When he had completed this task, he took his rifle, andleaving Charlie picketed in the centre of a dell, where the long, richgrass rose high above the snow, went off to hunt.
; On turning a rocky point his heart suddenly bounded into his throat,for there, not thirty yards distant, stood a huge grizzly bear!
Yes, there he was at last, the monster to meet which the young hunterhad so often longed--the terrible size and fierceness of which he hadheard so often spoken about by the old hunters. There it stood atlast; but little did Dick Varley think that the first time he shouldmeet with his foe should be when alone in the dark recesses of theRocky Mountains, and with none to succour him in the event of thebattle going against him. Yes, there was one. The faithful Crusoestood by his side, with his hair bristling, all his formidable teethexposed, and his eyes glaring in their sockets. Alas for poor Crusoehad he gone into that combat alone! One stroke of that monster's pawwould have hurled him dead upon the ground.