Tracks Of A Rolling Stone, Henry J. Coke [kiss me liar novel english txt] 📗
- Author: Henry J. Coke
Book online «Tracks Of A Rolling Stone, Henry J. Coke [kiss me liar novel english txt] 📗». Author Henry J. Coke
Tip Of Lazarus' Finger - Or For Choice, A Bottle Of Bass - To
Cool My Tongue! Then Too, Whither Would The Mustang Stray In
The Night If I Rested Or Fell Asleep? Again And Again I
Tried To Stalk Him By The Starlight. Twice I Got Hold Of His
Tail, But He Broke Away. If I Drove Him Down To The River
Banks The Chance Of Catching Him Would Be No Better, And I
Should Lose The Dry Ground To Rest On.
'It Was About As Unpleasant A Night As I Had Yet Passed.
Every Now And Then I Sat Down, And Dropped Off To Sleep From
Sheer Exhaustion. Every Time This Happened I Dreamed Of
Sparkling Drinks; Then Woke With A Start To A Lively Sense Of
The Reality, And Anxious Searches For The Mustang.
'Directly The Day Dawned I Drove The Animal, Now Very Stiff,
Straight Down For The Platte. He Wanted Water Fully As Much
As His Master; And When We Sighted It He Needed No More
Driving. Such A Hurry Was He In That, In His Rush For The
River, He Got Bogged In The Muddy Swamp At Its Edge. I
Seized My Chance, And Had Him Fast In A Minute. We Both
Plunged Into The Stream; I, Clothes And All, And Drank, And
Drank, And Drank.'
That Evening I Caught Up The Cavalcade.
How Curious It Is To Look Back Upon Such Experiences From A
Different Stage Of Life's Journey! How Would It Have Fared
With Me Had My Rifle Exploded With The Fall? It Was Knocked
Out Of My Hands At Full Cock. How If The Stock Had Been
Broken? It Had Been Thrown At Least Ten Yards. How If The
Horn Had Entered My Thigh Instead Of The Horse's? How If I
Had Fractured A Limb, Or Had Been Stunned, Or The Bull Had
Charged Again While I Was Creeping Up To Him? Any One, Or
More Than One, Of These Contingencies Were More Likely To
Happen Than Not. But Nothing Did Happen, Save - The Best.
Chapter 22 Pg 118
Not A Thought Of The Kind Ever Crossed My Mind, Either At The
Time Or Afterwards. Yet I Was Not A Thoughtless Man, Only An
Average Man. Nine Englishmen Out Of Ten With A Love Of Sport
- As Most Englishmen Are - Would Have Done, And Have Felt,
Just As I Did. I Was Bruised And Still; But So One Is After
A Run With Hounds. I Had Had Many A Nastier Fall Hunting In
Derbyshire. The Worst That Could Happen Did Not Happen; But
The Worst Never - Well, So Rarely Does. One Might Shoot
Oneself Instead Of The Pigeon, Or Be Caught Picking Forbidden
Fruit. Narrow Escapes Are As Good As Broad Ones. The Truth
Is, When We Are Young, And Active, And Healthy, Whatever
Happens, Of The Pleasant Or Lucky Kind, We Accept As A Matter
Of Course.
Ah! Youth! Youth! If We Only Knew When We Were Well Off,
When We Were Happy, When We Possessed All That This World Has
To Give! If We But Knew That Love Is Only A Matter Of Course
So Long As Youth And Its Bounteous Train Is Ours, We Might
Perhaps Make The Most Of It, And Give Up Looking For -
Something Better. But What Then? Give Up The 'Something
Better'? Give Up Pursuit, - The Effort That Makes Us Strong?
'Give Up The Sweets Of Hope'? No! 'Tis Better As It Is,
Perhaps. The Kitten Plays With Its Tail, And The Nightingale
Sings; But They Think No More Of Happiness Than The Rose-Bud
Of Its Beauty. May Be Happiness Comes Not Of Too Much
Knowing, Or Too Much Thinking Either.
Chapter 23 Pg 119
Fort Laramie Was A Military Station And Trading Post
Combined. It Was A Stone Building In What They Called A
'Compound' Or Open Space, Enclosed By A Palisade. When We
Arrived There, It Was Occupied By A Troop Of Mounted Riflemen
Under Canvas, Outside The Compound. The Officers Lived In
The Fort; And As We Had Letters To The Colonel - Somner - And
To The Captain - Rhete, They Were Very Kind And Very Useful
To Us.
We Pitched Our Camp By The Laramie River, Four Miles From The
Fort. Nearer Than That There Was Not A Blade Of Grass. The
Cavalry Horses And Military Mules Needed All There Was At
Hand. Some Of The Mules We Were Allowed To Buy, Or Exchange
For Our Own. We Accordingly Added Six Fresh Ones To Our
Cavalcade, And Parted With Two Horses; Which Gave Us A Total
Chapter 23 Pg 120Of Fifteen Mules And Six Horses. Government Provisions Were
Not To Be Had, So That We Could Not Replenish Our Now
Impoverished Stock. This Was A Serious Matter, As Will Be
Seen Before Long. Nor Was The Evil Lessened By My Being Laid
Up With A Touch Of Fever - The Effect, No Doubt, Of Those
Drenches Of Stagnant Water. The Regimental Doctor Was
Absent. I Could Not Be Taken Into The Fort. And, As We Had
No Tent, And Had Thrown Away Almost Everything But The
Clothes We Wore, I Had To Rough It And Take My Chance. Some
Relics Of Our Medicine Chest, Together With A Tough
Constitution, Pulled Me Through. But I Was Much Weakened,
And By No Means Fit For The Work Before Us. Fred Did His
Best To Persuade Me From Going Further. He Confessed That He
Was Utterly Sick Of The Expedition; That His Injured Knee
Prevented Him From Hunting, Or From Being Of Any Use In
Packing And Camp Work; That The Men Were A Set Of Ruffians
Who Did Just As They Chose - They Grumbled At The Hardships,
Yet Helped Themselves To The Stores Without Restraint; That
We Had The Rocky Mountains Yet To Cross; After That, The
Country Was Unknown. Colonel Somner Had Strongly Advised Us
To Turn Back. Forty Of His Men Had Tried Two Months Ago To
Carry Despatches To The Regiment's Headquarters In Oregon.
Only Five Had Got Through; The Rest Had Been Killed And
Scalped. Finally, That We Had Something Like 1,200 Miles To
Go, And Were Already In The Middle Of August. It Would Be
Folly, Obstinacy, Madness, To Attempt It. He Would Stop And
Hunt Where We Were, As Long As I Liked; Or He Would Go Back
With Me. He Would Hire Fresh Good Men, And Buy New Horses;
And, Now That We Knew The Country, We Could Get To St. Louis
Before The End Of September, And' - . There Was No Reasonable
Answer To Be Made. I Simply Told Him I Had Thought It Over,
And Had Decided To Go On. Like The Plucky Fellow And Staunch
Friend That He Was, He Merely Shrugged His Shoulders, And
Quietly Said, 'Very Well. So Be It.'
Before Leaving Fort Laramie A Singular Incident Occurred,
Which Must Seem So Improbable, That Its Narration May Be
Taken For Fiction. It Was, However, A Fact. There Was
Plenty Of Game Near Our Camping Ground; And Though The
Weather Was Very Hot, One Of The Party Usually Took The
Trouble To Bring In Something To Keep The Pot Supplied. The
Sage Hens, The Buffalo Or Elk Meat Were Handed Over To Jacob,
Who Made A Stew With Bacon And Rice, Enough For The Evening
Meal And The Morrow's Breakfast. After Supper, When Everyone
Had Filled His Stomach, The Large Kettle, Covered With Its
Lid, Was Taken Off The Fire, And This Allowed To Burn Itself
Out.
For Four Or Five Mornings Running The Kettle Was Found Nearly
Empty, And All Hands Had To Put Up With A Cup Of Coffee And
Mouldy Biscuit Dust. There Was A Good Deal Of
Unparliamentary Language. Everyone Accused Everyone Else Of
Filthy Greediness. It Was Disgusting That After Eating All
He Could, A Man Hadn't The Decency To Wait Till The Morning.
Chapter 23 Pg 121The Pot Had Been Full For Supper, And, As Every Man Could
See, It Was Never Half Emptied - Enough Was Always Left For
Breakfast. A Resolution Was Accordingly Passed That Each
Should Take His Turn Of An Hour's Watch At Night, Till The
Glutton Was Caught In The Act.
My Hour Happened To Be From 11 To 12 P.M. I Strongly
Suspected The Thief To Be An Indian, And Loaded My Big Pistol
With Slugs On The Chance. It Was A Clear Moonlight Night. I
Propped Myself Comfortably With A Bag Of Hams; And Concealed
Myself As Well As I Could In A Bush Of Artemisia, Which Was
Very Thick All Round. I Had Not Long Been On The Look-Out
When A Large Grey Wolf Prowled Slowly Out Of The Bushes. The
Night Was Bright As Day; But Every One Of The Men Was Sound
Asleep In A Circle Round The Remains Of The Camp Fire. The
Wolf Passed Between Them, Hesitating As It Almost Touched A
Covering Blanket. Step By Step It Crept Up To The Kettle,
Took The Handle Of The Lid Between Its Jaws, Lifted It Off,
Placed It Noiselessly On The Ground, And Devoured The Savoury
Stew.
I Could Not Fire, Because Of The Men. I Dared Not Move, Lest
I Should Disturb The Robber. I Was Even Afraid The Click Of
Cocking The Pistol Would Startle Him And Prevent My Getting A
Quiet Shot. But Patience Was Rewarded. When Satiated, The
Brute Retired As Stealthily As He Had Advanced; And As He
Passed Within Seven Or Eight Yards Of Me I Let Him Have It.
Great Was My Disappointment To See Him Scamper Off. How Was
It Possible I Could Have Missed Him? I Must Have Fired Over
His Back. The Men Jumped To Their Feet And Clutched Their
Rifles; But, Though Astonished At My Story, Were
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