CHAPTER VIII
OLD SAM PAUL MAKES A PROPOSITION
Jean arrived on the next boat three days later, with a tragic tale ofmissed connections. It seemed to Angus that the few months of absencehad made quite a difference. She seemed, in fact, almost a young lady,even to his brotherly eye.
But however she had changed she had not lost her grip on practicalthings, and when she began to look around the house Angus and Turkeyfound that their trouble in cleaning up had been wasted. For Jean duginto corners, and under and behind things where, as Turkey said, nobodybut a girl would ever think of looking; and in such obscure andout-of-the-way places she found some dirt, some articles discarded orlost, and the more or less permanent abode of Tom and Matilda.
Tom and Matilda were mice, which had become thoroughly tame anddomesticated. In the evenings Rennie fed them oatmeal and scraps ofcheese, chuckling to see them sit up on their hunkers and polish theirwhiskers and wink their beady, little eyes, and all hands had united inkeeping the cats out. Everybody had regarded Tom and Matilda as goodcitizens; and they had developed a simple and touching trust in mankind.But Jean broke up their home ruthlessly, with exclamations of disgust;and commandeering all the men for a day, turned the house inside out,beat, swept, washed and scrubbed; and then put everything back again.She professed to see a great difference, but nobody else agreed withher.
"The only difference I see," said Turkey, "is that I don't know where tofind a darn thing."
"Well, you won't find it on the floor, or under a heap of rubbish sixmonths old," Jean told him.
"Oh, all right," Turkey grumbled. "Now you've got all our things mixedup maybe you'll be satisfied."
Jean appealed to Angus, who agreed with Turkey. Whereat Jean sniffed andleft them to their opinions.
Angus was a little apprehensive of his first meeting Blake French, butto his relief the latter chose to ignore what had occurred. Rather tohis surprise Kathleen rode over to call on Jean, and the two girlsstruck up a certain friendship. Thus Angus saw more of Kathleen and herpeople than he had ever done before, including the head of the family,Godfrey French himself.
Godfrey French, though well on in years, was still erect and spare. Hehad a cold, blue eye, much like Gavin's, but now a trifle weary, and aslightly bent cynical mouth beneath a white moustach. He was invariablycourteous and dignified, and whatever might be said of his sons, therewas no doubt that the father possessed the ingrained manner of agentleman. Yet Angus did not like him, and he thought that old Frenchhad little or no use for him. Somehow, French put him in mind of agray-muzzled old fox.
One day in mid-summer as Angus sat in the shade of the workshop mendinga broken harness, old Paul Sam on his single-footing pony drew up at thedoor.
"'Al-lo!" he greeted.
"Hello, Paul Sam," Angus returned. "You feel skookum to-day?"
"Skookum, me," the Indian replied. "Skookum, you?"
"Skookum, me," Angus told him.
The old man got off his pony, sat down on an empty box, and drew out anold buckskin, bead-worked fire-bag. From this he produced a stone pipebowl and a reed stem. Fitting the two together he filled the bowl andsmoked.
This, Angus knew, was diplomacy. Whatever the Indian had come for, not aword concerning it would he say till he had had his smoke. Then it wouldprobably be unimportant. So Angus waited in silence, and Paul Sam smokedin silence. Finally the latter tapped out and unjointed his pipe and putit away in his fire-bag.
"Me got cooley kuitan," he announced.
"Cooley" is apparently a corruption of the French word "courir," to run."Kuitan" is a horse. Hence a "cooley kuitan" in Chinook signifies a racehorse.
Angus shook his head. He knew very well what Sam Paul intended doingwith this race horse. There was a local race meet each year, inconnection with the local fair. The race meet outsized the fair, dwarfedit in interest. It drew tin horns and sure-thing gamblers as fresh meatdraws flies. These gentry ran various games, open when they could andunder cover when they could not. Then there were men with a seasoned oldringer under a new name, or a couple of skates with which to pull off afaked match race. There were various races, but the big event was a milefor horses locally owned. There was some excellent stock in the country,and great rivalry developed.
In this race each year the Indians had entered some alleged runninghorse and backed it gamely. But each year they lost, their horses beingneither trained nor ridden properly, and being completely outclassed aswell; for as a rule they were merely good saddle cayuses andoverweighted at that. This year French's horse, a beautiful, bright baynamed Flambeau, seemed likely to win. Angus had seen him and admiredhim. Therefore he shook his head.
"You only think you've got a cooley kuitan," he said. "Keep out of thatrace, Paul Sam. You'll only lose money."
"Him good," the Indian insisted. "S'pose him get good rider him win.Injun boy no good to ride. Injun boy all right in Injun race; no good inwhite man's race."
"That's true enough," Angus agreed. "Injun boy don't kumtux the game.Well, what about it?"
"Mebbe-so you catch white boy to ride um?" Paul Sam suggested.
"Do you mean Turkey?" Angus queried.
"Ha-a-lo," Paul Sam negatived. "White boy, all same ride white man'shorse."
"A jockey! Where would I get you a jockey?"
But that detail was none of Paul Sam's business.
"You catch um jock!" he said hopefully.
"But I don't know where to get one. A jockey would cost money, and youwouldn't win, anyway. You Injuns start a horse every year, and you neverhave one that has a lookin. You'd better get the idea out of your head."
But an idea once implanted in an Indian's head is apt to stay. Paul Samgrinned complacently.
"Me got dam' good cooley kuitan. Me kumtux kuitan."
He told Angus the history of his horse, as he knew it. Stripped ofdetails, it amounted to this: Some five years before a fine English marewhich had been the property of a deceased remittance man, had beenauctioned off. She was in foal, and the colt in due course had beensold, and in some obscure and involved cattle deal had become theproperty of Paul Sam, who had let him run with his cayuses. When hebroke him to the saddle he found him remarkably fast. Being a real fox,he said nothing about the colt's turn of speed, but bided his time. Now,in his opinion, he could make a killing and spoil the Egyptian, aliasthe white man, if only the colt were properly trained and ridden. Heapplied to Angus for help, as being the son of his tillikum, AdamMackay. He invited him out to inspect the horse.
Angus went and took Dave Rennie. The horse which Paul Sam led forth forinspection was a big, slashing four-year-old, with a good head, anhonest eye, deep chest and clean, flat limbs. Every line of him told ofpower and endurance; and to the eye which could translate power intoterms of speed, of the latter as well. Rennie whistled softly.
"He looks to me like he had real blood in him. He's a weight carrier.English hunting stock, I sh'd say. Some of 'em can run, all right. Ifthe mare was in foal when she was brought out, I wouldn't wonder if thisboy's sire was real class. He looks it." The big horse reached out atwitching muzzle to investigate. Rennie stroked the velvet nose. "Kindas a kitten, too. He seems to have the build, but that don't say he canrun."
"Him run," Paul Sam affirmed. "You ride him."
He cinched an old stock saddle on the chestnut, and Rennie mounted. Hecantered easily across the flat and back.
"He's easy as an old rocker and light as a driftin' cloud," he said."The bit worries him, though. He needs rubber. You get on him, and seewhat a real horse feels like."
Angus lengthened the stirrups and swung up. As soon as he felt themotion he knew he was astride a wondrous piece of mechanism. Theundulating lift of the big chestnut was as easy and effortless andsustained as a smooth, rolling swell. Of his own accord the horsequickened his pace from the easy sling of the canter to a long,stretching, hand-gallop, drawing great lungfuls of air, shaking hishead, rejoicing in his own motion, glad to be doing the work he wasfi
tted for. At the end of the little flat Angus pulled up and turned.Rennie's distant shout came faintly:
"Let him come!"
Breathing the horse for a moment, Angus loosed him from the canter tothe gallop and then, as he felt the coil and uncoil of the splendidmuscles, and the swell and quiver of the body, and the increasing reachand stretch of the ever-quickening stride, he let him run.
All his life Angus had ridden ponies, cayuses, but now he had a newexperience. The big chestnut, as he was given his head, made half adozen great bounds and then, steadying himself, he stretched his neck,his body seemed to sink and straighten, and with muzzle almost in linewith his ears he began to put forth the speed that was in him. The rapiddrum of his hoofs quickened to a roar; the wind sang in Angus' ears; thefigures of Paul and Sam and Rennie seemed to come toward him, and heshot past them and gradually eased the willing horse to canter andwalk.
"Him cooley kuitan, hey?" Paul Sam grinned. "You catch um jock?"
"But I don't know where to get one," Angus replied.
"Well," said Rennie, "I don't know where to get no regular jockey, but Iknow an old has-been that used to ride twenty years ago, before he gotsmashed up. I dunno 's he'd ride now, in a race, but he could put thehorse in shape. He's got a fruit and chicken ranch somewheres on thecoast. Me and him was kids together, and he might come if I asked him.Only he wouldn't do it for nothing."
"You catch um," said Paul Sam. "Me pay um. Mebbe-so me win hiyu dolla!"
The Land of Strong Men Page 8