Frank in the Woods

by Harry Castlemon

  CHAPTER XIII.

  The Black Mustang.

  Supper over, the hunters drew their chairs around the fireplace, andDick, after filling his pipe, and drawing a few puffs by way ofinspiration, said:

  "I believe I onct told you 'bout havin' my hoss pulled out from underme by a grizzly bar, didn't I? Wal, I told you, too, that I ketchedanother, an' I had a job to do it, too--to ketch the one I wanted; an'the time you've had tryin' to ketch that black fox reminds me of it.You know, I s'pose, that large droves of wild hosses roam all over theprairy, an' them droves ar allers led by some splendid animal--allersa stallion--one that has got the legs to go like lightnin', an' thewind to keep it up. An' he's allers the cock o' the walk, too--thebest fighter in the drove; an' when he moves round, it would make youlaugh to see the other hosses get out of his way. He holds his placeuntil he dies, unless some other hoss comes along an' wallops him.Then he takes his place with the common fags o' the drove, an' the newone is king till he gets licked, an' so on. It ar a mighty hard thingto capture one o' them leaders. You can ketch one o' the others easyenough, but when it comes to lassoin' the 'king,' it's a thing thatfew trappers can do. Jest arter my scrape with the grizzly bar, BillLawson an' me fell in with a lot o' fellers that war goin' to spend aseason on the Saskatchewan, an' they wanted me an' Bill to join 'em;so I bought me a hoss of an ole Injun for a couple o' plugs o'tobacker--reg'lar Jeems River it war, too--an' we started out. My newhoss was 'bout as ugly a lookin' thing as I ever happened to set eyeson. He war big as all out-doors, an' you could see every bone in hisbody. An' he war ugly actin', too; an' if a feller come within reachof his heels, the way he would kick war a caution to Injuns. But Ihadn't been on the road more'n a day afore I diskivered that he couldtravel like a streak o' greased lightnin'. That war jest the kind ofa hoss I wanted, an' I didn't care 'bout his ugly looks arter that.

  "For more'n three year, me an' Bill had been keepin' an eye on a hossthat we wanted to ketch. He war the leader of a large drove. He war asort o' iron-gray color, with a thick, archin' neck--a purty feller;an' the way he could climb over the prairy was a caution to cats. Wewarn't the only ones arter him, either, for a'most every trapper inthe country had seed him, an' had more'n one chase arter him. But,bars and buffaler! It war no use 't all, for he could run away fromthe fastest hosses, an' not half try; an' many a poor feller, whostraddled a hoss that every body thought couldn't be tuckered out, hadleft his animal dead on the prairy, an' found his way back to his campon foot. We war in hopes that we should see him, for we war travelin'right through his country; an' I knowed that if we did find him, Iwould stand as good a chance o' ketchin' him as any one, for myugly-lookin' hoss was the best traveler in the crowd.

  "One night we camped on a little stream, called Bloody Creek. Wecalled it so from a fight that a party of us fellers had there withthe Injuns. About an hour arter supper, while we war all settin'round the fire, smokin' an' telling stories, ole Bob Kelly--the oldestan' best trapper in the country--started up off his blanket, an',cockin' his ear for a moment, said, 'Somebody's comin', boys.' An',sure 'nough, in a few minits up walked a stranger.

  "It ar a mighty uncommon thing to meet a teetotal stranger on theprairy, an' a man don't know whether he is a friend or foe; but we warmighty glad to see him, and crowded round him, askin' all sorts o'questions; an' one took his rifle, an' another pulled off hispowder-horn an' bullet-pouch, an' a big feller dragged him to thefire, where we could all get a good look at him, an' made him drink abig cup o' coffee.

  "'Whar do you hail from, stranger?' inquired ole Bob Kelly, who allerstook them matters into his own hands, an' we little fellers had to setround an' listen.

  "'I b'long anywhere night ketches me,' answered the stranger. 'I'm anole trapper in these yere parts.'

  "'Whar's your hoss?' asked ole Bob.

  "'I left him dead on the prairy--dead as a herrin'. I rid him aleetle too hard, I reckon. I war chasin' up the black mustang.'

  "If I should live to be a hundred year older 'n I'm now, an' shouldlive among the Blackfoot Injuns the hull time, I shouldn't expect tohear another sich a yell as 'em trappers give when the strangermentioned the black mustang. They crowded round him like a flock o'sheep, all askin' him questions; an' he tried to answer 'em all toonct; an' sich a row as there war round that camp-fire for a fewminits! It war wusser nor any Injun war-dance I ever seed. Now, me an'Bill hadn't never seed the black mustang, nor heerd o' him afore,'cause we hadn't trapped in that part o' the country for a'most threeyear, but we knowed in a minit that it must be the leader o' somedrove. But Bill had lived among the Injuns so much that he had gotkinder used to their ways, an' he didn't like to see them trapperscarryin' on so, an' actin' like a parcel o' young'uns jest turnedloose from school; so, as soon as he could make himself heered, heyelled:

  "'What in tarnation's the matter with you fellers? As soon as you gitthrough hollerin', me an' Dick would like to know what all this yerefuss is about.'

  "'Why, the black mustang has been within ten mile of this yere campto-night,' said one of the trappers.

  "'Wal, an' what o' that?' said Bill. 'Ar the black mustang any betterhoss than the gray king?'

  "They all set up another yell at this, an' one of 'em said:

  "'Why, the gray ain't nothin' 'long side o' the black mustang. Hecould run away from him in less'n two minits. I guess you hain't hearntell of him, have you?'

  "'In course I hain't,' said Bill.

  "'Then you ain't no great shakes of a trapper,' said another.

  "Now, the rascal knowed that war a lie, for there warn't no trapper inthe country that could lay over Bill, 'cept ole Bob Kelly, an' everyone said as how he war the best trapper agoin'; an' the way Bill eyedthe feller, made him kinder keerful of his we'pons for a day or twoarterward.

  "Arter talking a little while, we found out the black mustang war theleader o' the largest drove on the prairy. He had been round for 'bouta year, an' every trapper in that part of the country had had a chasearter him; but it war like chasin' the wind; an' besides this, hecould run all day, an' be jest as fresh at night as when he started inthe mornin'.

  "'Wal,' thinks I, 'Dick, here's a good chance for you to try yourhoss's travelin' qualities;' an' I made up my mind that I would startoff an' foller the black mustang till I ketched him, if it tuk me mylifetime.

  "The next mornin', arter breakfast, one o' the trappers proposed thatwe should spend three or four days in huntin' up the mustang, an', incourse, we all agreed to it. The stranger wanted to go, too, but wehad no hoss to give him; so, arter biddin' us all good-by, heshouldered his rifle an' started out alone acrost the prairy. Wal, wespent a week tryin' to find that hoss, but didn't even get a sight athim; so one mornin' old Bob Kelly concluded that we had better makeanother strike for the Saskatchewan. We packed up an' got all ready tostart, when I tuk them a good deal by surprise by tellin' 'em that Iwar goin' to stay an' hunt up the black mustang. How they all laughedat me!

  "'Laugh away, boys,' says I, as I got on to my hoss. 'I'll see you onthe Saskatchewan in a month or so, an' I'll either bring the mustangwith me, or he'll be a dead hoss. If I can't ketch him, I can shoothim, you know; an' I won't see you agin till I do one or the other.Good-by, fellers.' An' I turned my hoss an' rode away from the camp.

  "Wal, I rode all over them prairies for a'most six weeks, withoutseein' the sign of a hoss; an' one arternoon I stopped on the top of ahigh swell to take my reckonin'. I found myself on the east side o'the Black Hills, an' I knowed that my first job was to get on the_other_ side; the mustang had prob'bly struck off toward themountains. So I began to look around for a good place to get over. Thehills rose from the prairy reg'lar bluff-like--sometimes a hundredfeet high, an' so steep that a sheep couldn't climb up 'em. Jest as itbegun to grow dark, I come to a deep ravine, that seemed to run upinto the hills a good way; an' the bottom of this yere ravine was ashard an' smooth as a floor, an' looked as if it had been traveledover a good deal. But I war kinder tired with my day's tramp, an'didn't noti
ce it much, for I thought it war nothin' more'n a buffalerroad; so I picked out a good place an' camped for the night.

  "'Arly the next mornin' I set out agin; but as soon as I got on theroad I knowed that no buffaler had made them tracks; they warmustangs, an' there war the prints of their hoofs in the dust, plainas a bar's ears. When I come to examine the signs, I found, as nigh asI could kalkerlate, that there war about three hundred hosses in thedrove, an' I knowed, from the looks of the tracks, that they had beenalong lately; so I pushed ahead as fast as my hoss could carry me, an'that wasn't slow, I tell you. I rid him all day at a tearin' rate, an'at dark he seemed as willin' to go as when I started out. This put mein high spirits, an' I made up my mind that if me and my hoss ever gotarter that black mustang, he would have to pick up his feet mightylively to get away from us. The next day, about noon, I war ridingalong at a thumpin' rate, when all to onct I come to a place where theravine opened into a small prairy, and scattered all over it war thewild hosses, feedin' away as peaceably as if no one had ever thoughtof disturbin' them there. I pulled up so quick that it a'most broughtmy hoss on his haunches; but the mustangs had seed me, an' the waythey snorted an' galloped about war a purty thing to look at. I drawedoff into the bushes as quick as I could, an' gathered up my lasso,which I allers carried at my saddle-bow, an' then looked toward thedrove agin. The first hoss I seed was the black mustang. He warrunnin' about, tossin' his head an' snortin' as though he didn'thardly understand the matter. He war the purtiest hoss I ever sot eyeson; but I couldn't stop to examine his pints then. Then I tuk a lookround the prairy, an' saw that the hills rose on all sides of it;there was but one way the hosses could get out, an' that war throughthe ravine. I war in luck for onct in my life. Now, you boys, if youhad been there, would, most like, run out into the prairy to onct, an'tried to ketch him, but that would have been a reg'lar boy trick, andwould have spiled it all. I knowed that I had the black hosssurrounded, but if I begun to race him round that prairy, he woulddodge me, an' be off down the ravine like a shot; so I kept still inthe bushes; an' my hoss knowed his own bisness, and stood as though hewar made of rock.

  "Purty soon the hosses begun to get over their skeer an' commencedcomin' toward me--the black hoss leadin' the way. He would come a fewsteps, an' then stop an' paw the ground, an' then come a littlenearer, an' so on, till he come within 'bout half a lasso-throw, when,all of a sudden, I give my hoss the word, an' he jumped out o' thembushes like a streak o' lightnin'. It would have made you laugh to seethe way them hosses put off; the black hoss, seemed to me, war onwings; but he hadn't made three jumps afore my lasso war around hisneck. _The black mustang war mine!_

  "In about three weeks I reached the Saskatchewan, an' if you couldhave heard the yell them trappers give when I rode up to the camp onthe mustang, it would have done your heart good. I had kept mypromise."