The Dog Crusoe and His Master: A Story of Adventure in the Western Prairies, - [books for new readers .TXT] 📗
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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.
CHAPTER XVI.
Dick becomes a horse tamer--Resumes his journey--Charlie's
doings--Misfortunes which lead to, but do not terminate in, the Rocky
Mountains--A grizzly bear.
There is a proverb--or a saying--or at least
somebody or book has told us, 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 and sundry. Had we been at the
side of Dick Varley on the night after his taming of
the wild horse, we would have strongly urged that
advice upon him. Whether he would have listened
to it or not is quite another question; we rather think
not. Reader, if you wish to know why, go and do
what he did, and if you feel no curious sensations
about the region of the loins after it, we will tell you
why Dick Varley wouldn't have listened to that advice.
Can a man feel as if his joints were wrenched
out of their sockets, and listen to advice--be that
advice good or bad? Can he feel as though these
joints were trying to re-set and re-dislocate themselves
perpetually, and listen to advice? Can he feel as if
he were sitting down on red-hot iron, when he's not
sitting down at 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 the following
day in sleep, to make up for it.
When he got up to breakfast in the afternoon he felt
much better, but shaky.
"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 where the horse had been picketed. It
was standing there quite quiet, but looking 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 any appearance of timidity or
hesitation on the part of those who approach them.
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 quietly round
and round it once or twice, sometimes approaching
and sometimes going away, but never either hesitating
or doing anything abruptly. This done, he went down
to the stream and filled his cap with water and carried
it to the horse, which snuffed suspiciously and backed
a little; 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 poor creature was almost
choking with thirst, so that, the moment he understood
what was in the cap, he buried his lips in it and sucked
it up.
This was a great point gained: he had accepted a
benefit at the hands of his new master; he had become
a debtor to man, and no
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.
CHAPTER XVI.
Dick becomes a horse tamer--Resumes his journey--Charlie's
doings--Misfortunes which lead to, but do not terminate in, the Rocky
Mountains--A grizzly bear.
There is a proverb--or a saying--or at least
somebody or book has told us, 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 and sundry. Had we been at the
side of Dick Varley on the night after his taming of
the wild horse, we would have strongly urged that
advice upon him. Whether he would have listened
to it or not is quite another question; we rather think
not. Reader, if you wish to know why, go and do
what he did, and if you feel no curious sensations
about the region of the loins after it, we will tell you
why Dick Varley wouldn't have listened to that advice.
Can a man feel as if his joints were wrenched
out of their sockets, and listen to advice--be that
advice good or bad? Can he feel as though these
joints were trying to re-set and re-dislocate themselves
perpetually, and listen to advice? Can he feel as if
he were sitting down on red-hot iron, when he's not
sitting down at 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 the following
day in sleep, to make up for it.
When he got up to breakfast in the afternoon he felt
much better, but shaky.
"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 where the horse had been picketed. It
was standing there quite quiet, but looking 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 any appearance of timidity or
hesitation on the part of those who approach them.
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 quietly round
and round it once or twice, sometimes approaching
and sometimes going away, but never either hesitating
or doing anything abruptly. This done, he went down
to the stream and filled his cap with water and carried
it to the horse, which snuffed suspiciously and backed
a little; 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 poor creature was almost
choking with thirst, so that, the moment he understood
what was in the cap, he buried his lips in it and sucked
it up.
This was a great point gained: he had accepted a
benefit at the hands of his new master; he had become
a debtor to man, and no
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