Castlemon Harry
Frank on the Prairie

CHAPTER XVI
The King of the Drove

THE travelers had been intensely interested in the old trapper’s story, and not even the thought that the danger was passed, and that Frank was safe in camp again, could altogether quiet their feelings. Frank was more astonished than ever, and he secretly determined that he would never again lose sight of the wagon, if he could avoid it. But, if he should again be compelled to take an involuntary ride, and should happen to fall in with strangers on the prairie, he would give them a wide berth.

Mr. Winters said nothing. He did not think that the occasion demanded that he should caution his nephew, for it was by no means probable that the latter would soon forget his night in the outlaw’s camp.

His adventures, which were the subject of a lengthy conversation, did not, however, entirely quench his love of excitement, and when, after a hearty dinner on buffalo hump, Archie proposed a short ride on the prairie, he agreed to accompany him, and, as soon as he had caught and saddled his uncle’s horse, was ready for the start. As they rode along out of the woods, Archie informed his cousin that another herd of buffaloes had been seen that morning by old Bob, feeding near the base of the mountains, and announced his determination of endeavoring to shoot one, if they should happen to come across them. As there was now no danger of being stampeded – both of their horses being old buffalo hunters – Frank agreed to the proposal, and followed his cousin, who led the way toward the place where the buffaloes had last been seen. Swell after swell they mounted, straining their eyes in every direction, without discovering the wished-for game.

But they saw something else that excited them quite as much as the sight of a herd of buffaloes would have done; for, as Archie, who had ridden some distance in advance of his cousin, reached the top of one of the hills, Frank saw him suddenly draw rein, and back his horse down the swell, out of sight of something which he had discovered on the other side. He then rode back to meet Frank, and, as soon as he came within speaking distance, whispered, excitedly:

“There’s a big drove of wild horses out there.”

Frank waited to hear no more, but, throwing his bridle to his cousin, dismounted from his horse, and, going cautiously to the top of the swell, looked over. Sure enough, there they were, about half a mile distant, probably five hundred of them, scattered about over the prairie, some feeding, and others prancing about, as if wholly unconscious of danger. Among them was one horse – an iron-gray – rendered conspicuous by his great size and extraordinary beauty, which galloped about as if he were “monarch of all he surveyed.” Frank remembered what Dick had told him about every drove of wild horses having a “master,” and, as he watched his movements, and noticed how the other horses shied at his approach, he came to the conclusion that the gray horse was the king. He gazed at them for some time, admiring their rapid, graceful movements, and thinking how fully the gray would supply the place of the horse he had lost, when he noticed that the animals were feeding directly toward him. Fearful of being discovered, he crawled back down the swell, and rejoined his cousin.

“What shall we do?” asked the latter, excitedly.

“Don’t you suppose Dick could catch one of those fellows?” inquired Frank.

“Of course he could,” answered Archie, quickly. “Didn’t he catch that black mustang he told us about – a horse that every body had tried to catch, and couldn’t? Let’s go back, and ask him to try.”

The boys hastily remounted, and started for the camp as fast as their horses could carry them. Archie, of course, led the way, and, as he dashed up to the wagon, he threw himself from the saddle, exclaiming:

“Dick, there’s a drove of wild horses out there on the prairie. Jump on Sam, and go and catch one for Frank.”

“That’s the same drove I seed day afore yesterday,” said old Bob, “an’ that’s what I meant when I told Frank we’d put him on hossback ag’in afore he war two days older. Ketch my hoss, Dick.”

Dick did as he was desired, and, by this time, Frank had come up, Archie, in his eagerness, having left him far behind.

“Did you skeer ’em, youngsters?” asked old Bob, as he went to the wagon and drew out two rawhide lassos, one of which he handed to Dick.

“No,” replied Frank. “They didn’t see us. Dick, catch the king – he’s a large iron-gray – the prettiest horse in the drove. If I could have him, I would be glad I lost Pete.”

“Wal, now, that ar’ will be a hard thing to do, youngsters,” replied the trapper, coiling up his lasso, and hanging it on the horn of his saddle; “a mighty hard thing to do. Them ar’ kings ar’ allers the swiftest hosses in the drove; an’ it aint every ole buffaler hunter that can keep up with ’em.”

Archie was astonished to hear the trapper speak so lightly of Sleepy Sam, a horse that had several times proved himself to be possessed of great speed; but Dick hastened to explain.

“I aint sayin’ nothin’ ag’in your hoss, little one, no more’n I am ag’in Bob’s. But if you had chased wild hosses as often as I have, you would know that a hoss can beat any thing in a wagon train, an’ yet have no bisness with the king of a drove. I won’t say that we’ll ketch that gray fur you, Frank, but we’ll try hard, an’ if he is too fast fur us, we’ll lasso one of the others, sartin. We’ll bring back somethin’ fur you to ride.”

By this time the trappers were ready for the start. Mr. Winters and the boys accompanied them to the edge of the prairie, and there Bob and Dick left them, after repeatedly assuring Frank that it was not their intention to return empty-handed.

When they had disappeared, Mr. Winters and the boys seated themselves on the ground, and for nearly an hour, waited and listened for the sound of the pursuit. Suddenly a single horse appeared upon the summit of a distant swell, and facing about, stood as if regarding some object that had excited his curiosity. Then came another, and another, and in a moment more the entire drove appeared, running at the top of their speed. One minute elapsed – two – three – and then two more horses suddenly arose over the swell, and followed swiftly after the drove. The chase had begun in earnest. The boys were surprised, and not a little discouraged, to see the trappers so far behind. But still they had great confidence in them, and Frank was already reconciled to the loss of his horse, and confident that he would own another before he went to sleep that night. The chase was tending directly toward the mountains, and it presented a sight the boys would have been loth to miss. Nearer and nearer came the wild steeds, prancing and snorting, and looking back at the strange objects that were pursuing them. Presently, among the foremost ones, the boys discovered the gray king. He moved over the ground as lightly as if he had been furnished with wings, and as Frank watched his movements, he reluctantly came to the conclusion that if his endurance was as great as his speed, he must content himself with one of the common horses of the drove. They continued to advance until they came within a quarter of a mile of the willows, when they seemed, for the first time, to discover that their retreat in that direction was cut off by the mountains. This appeared to confuse and frighten them. The foremost ones slackened their speed, but seeing their pursuers close behind them, the drove suddenly divided, part of the horses turning one way, and the rest going the other. The trappers had kept their eyes on the king, and, when he turned, they singled him out from the others, and followed him with increased speed. The gray mustang made an exhibition of his powers that was truly surprising; but the trappers took a “short cut” on him, and gained so rapidly that Frank’s hopes rose again. Sleepy Sam was running splendidly; but, to the surprise of all, old Bob’s ungainly, raw-boned horse, in answer to a yell from his rider, bounded past him. All this happened in much less time than we have taken to describe it. The horses moved with wonderful rapidity, and, in a very few moments after the drove divided, the gray king and the trappers were out of sight behind the swells, and all sounds of the chase had died away in the distance.

Mr. Winters then returned to the camp, while the excited boys again seated themselves on the ground, and waited long and impatiently for the trapper’s return. The hours slowly wore away, and, finally, the sun went down, but still no signs of the horsemen. It soon began to grow dark, and the boys were obliged to return to the wagon. Frank prepared supper that evening, but their appetites must have gone off with the gray mustang, for they ate but little. They sat beside the fire until midnight, straining their ears to catch the first sounds of the trapper’s return; but nothing but the occasional howl of a wolf broke the stillness; and, finally, growing tired of watching, they spread their blankets and went to sleep. At the first peep of day they were again stirring, and, after a hasty breakfast, they stationed themselves in the edge of the willows, to await the return of the horsemen. In about two hours their patience was rewarded by the discovery of several objects moving along the summit of a distant swell. As they approached, the boys recognized the trappers, and in half an hour they were within speaking distance. Could Frank believe his eyes? Was Dick really riding the gray king? It was a horse that bore a strong resemblance to him, and Frank felt confident that the animal he had so much admired, was really his own. Nor was he deceived; for, as they came up, Dick exclaimed:

“Here we ar’, youngsters. We’ve got him, sure as shootin’. Easy thar,” he continued, as the delighted boys walked slowly around him, admiring his fine points. “If you know any thing you’ll keep cl’ar of his heels. He aint very good natur’d.”

This was very evident; for the trapper had scarcely spoken before the mustang began to show his temper. He danced about in the most lively manner; first rearing up almost straight in the air, and then kicking with both hind feet. His plunges were furious and desperate, and the boys fully expected to see the trapper unseated. But the latter, although he had no saddle – that being a contrivance he despised – and only had his lasso twisted around the gray’s lower jaw, for a bridle, kept the animal completely under his control, and rode him into the camp in triumph.

“The critter led us ’bout as long an’ as lively a race as we ever run,” said Dick, after the gray had been securely fastened to a tree. “An’ it war only by accident that we ketched him. I don’t reckon I am sayin’ too much when I say that I never seed a hoss run faster nor hold out better nor he did – not even the black mustang. We went ’round on the other side of the drove afore we started ’em, on purpose to make ’em run t’wards the mountains. That give you a good sight of somethin’ you never seed afore, an’ by it we gained on the gray when he turned. Wal, he kept ahead of us for ten or twelve miles, gainin’ on us all the while, fur when he seed that we war arter him in ’arnest, the way he did climb over the prairy war a purty thing to look at – when, all to onct, we found ourselves in a prairy-dog’s nest. The prairy, as far as a feller could see, war like a honey-comb. I ’spected every minit that my hoss would break through, an’ at last he did. But the gray broke in fust – went down clean to the top of his legs, an’ couldn’t git out. I war sartin we had him, an’ war jest goin’ to throw my lasso, when my hoss went in, an’ kerchunk I went on the ground. But ole Bob war on hand, an’ he ketched him. We told you, Frank, that we’d put you on horseback ag’in, an’ now that we’ve done it, I don’t reckon you’ll lose this animal by campin’ with Black Bill.”

CHAPTER XVII
How the Trapper got his Horse

AFTER supper, the travelers seated themselves around the fire, and the trappers lighted their pipes. After smoking awhile in silence, old Bob said:

“As I have told you afore, youngsters, it aint always a easy job to lasso the king of a drove of wild hosses. The runnin’ we done to-day arter the gray warn’t nothin’ to what we kalkerlated to do when we left here; an’ if he hadn’t got into that prairy-dogs’ nest, thar’s no knowin’ how many miles he would a been from here by this time. When I war a youngster, I went to the Saskatchewan fur the fust time, with a party of six trappers – Dick’s ole man war one of ’em – an’, being keerless, like all young fellers, I soon made away with one of the best hosses I ever owned. I run him clean blind arter a herd of buffaler. I soon got another, howsomever, but it warn’t as good a one as I wanted; an’ I begun to look around to find a critter that suited me. One day I come acrost a drove of wild hosses, an’, arter foolin’ round them fur awhile, I diskivered that they war led by a chestnut-colored critter – a purty feller – an’ I made up my mind that he war just the one I wanted. I had never ketched a wild hoss then, an’ I had heered enough about them to know that them kings ar’ allers the best animals in the drove, an’ that it takes a hoss as is a hoss to keep up with one of ’em. But I could throw the lasso tolible sharp, an’ war jest ’bout that age when youngsters think they know more’n any body else on ’arth; so I thought I could ketch him easy. Wal, I dodged round them till I got within ’bout half a mile of ’em, and then put out arter the king; but, human natur, how he did run! I follered him ’bout four mile, and then turned t’ward the camp, thinkin’ that mebbe thar war a few things I didn’t know nothin’ at all ’bout. Some days arterward, I seed him ag’in; but he run away from me easy, an’ I went back to the camp to be laughed at fur my trouble. But I knowed that I should have plenty of chances to ketch him afore we started fur hum – we war to stay thar till spring – so I said nothin’, but kept lookin’ round, an’ every time I seed the chestnut king, me an’ him had a race.

“I got him at last – not in the way I expected, howsomever – an’, to make the story plain, I must tell you what happened ’bout three year afore that.

“I war born on the banks of the Missouri River, ’bout twenty mile from whar St. Joseph now stands. It war thar my ole man fust larnt me how to handle a rifle an’ ride a wild mustang. Thar war a fort ’bout a mile from our cabin, whar the ole man allers went to sell his furs. It warn’t no ways safe thar, in them days, fur all that country b’longed to the Injuns, who warn’t very friendly t’ward white settlers. But, whenever thar war any trouble, we had a safe place to go to, an’ onct, when I war only twelve year ole, I stood ’side my ole man, in the fort, an’ helped drive off atween four an’ five hundred red-skins. I done so well that ole hunters an’ trappers slapped me on the back, sayin’ that I war a ‘chip o’ the ole block,’ and that I’d be a better Injun-hunter nor my father some day. This pleased my ole man, an’ when the Injuns had gone, he took me on a trappin’ expedition with him. Thar war four of us, an’ we war gone all winter. I ketched my share of the furs, an’ killed two grizzly bars, which war something for a chap of my years to brag on. Wal, we reached hum in the spring, an’, arter I had stayed at our cabin two or three days, tellin’ my mother big stories of what I had seed, an’ what I had done, the ole man sent me down to the fort to trade off our spelter. I ought to say that on our way hum we had dodged a large party of Injuns that war on a scalpin’ expedition. They had been off a fightin’ with another tribe, an’, havin’ got thrashed, they warn’t in very good humor. I war afraid they might take it into their heads to visit the country ’round the fort, an’ massacree the settlers; but the ole man laughed at me, an’ told me to go ’long ’bout my bisness, an’ sell them furs. So, as I war sayin’, I sot out fur the fort, an’, while I war makin’ a bargain with the trader, a trapper came in on a hoss that war a’most ready to drop, an’ said that the Injuns war strikin’ fur the fort. I don’t reckon that they intended to come afore night; but this trapper had got away from ’em, an’, knowin’ that he would alarm the settlers, the Injuns jest thought they would make a rush, an’ massacree men, women, an’ children, afore they could reach the fort.

“Wal, I didn’t wait to hear no more; but, grabbin’ up my we’pons, started fur hum arter the old folks. Purty quick I heered a firm’ an’ yellin’, an’ made up my mind that them as didn’t reach the fort in less nor ten minits would be goners, sartin, fur the Injuns war comin’, sure enough. A little further on I met my mother, who told me that the ole man an’ a few more of the settlers war fightin’ back the Injuns to give the women an’ young ones time to git safe under kiver. My mother war a’most too ole to walk so fur, so I took her on my hoss, and carried her t’wards the fort, intendin’ that as soon as I had seed her safe I would come back arter the ole man. But jest as I reached the fort, I heered a loud yellin’ an’ whoopin’, an’, lookin’ back, I seed the settlers comin’ out of the woods, with the Injuns clost behind ’em. Thar war, as nigh as I could guess, ’bout two hundred red-skins, an’ not more’n twenty white fellers; so, in course, thar warn’t no ’arthly use to think of fightin’ in cl’ar open ground. The settlers war comin’ as fast as their hosses could fetch ’em, an’ the Injuns war clost arter ’em, intendin’ to kill or captur’ ’em all afore they could reach the fort. I seed the ole man among the settlers, an’ made up my mind that he war safe, fur he rid a good hoss, when, all to onct, he dropped his rifle, throwed up his hands, an’ fell from his saddle. The settlers kept on; fur, in course, they couldn’t help him, an’ the ole man tried to follor ’em; but I seed him pulled down an’ tomahawked, ’bout two hundred yards from the fort, by a young Injun, whom, from his bar’s claws, an’ other fixins, I tuk to be a chief. My ole shootin’ iron war good fur that distance, so I drawed up and blazed away. But my hand trembled, an’ I seed that Injun make off with the ole man’s scalp. That war a long time ago, youngsters; but I can see that varlet yet, an’ hear the yell he give as he shook the scalp at us in the fort, an’ ran back into the woods. Of them twenty men that war in the fight, ’bout a dozen rode safe into the fort. The others war massacreed afore our very eyes, an’ we couldn’t help ’em.

“Wal, the Injuns stayed round in the edge of the tim’er fur ’bout two hours, yellin’ an’ firm’ at us; but, knowin’ that they could not take the fort – fur they tried that twice – they all set up a yelp an’ put off, burnin’ every thing as they went. It war a sad day fur that settlement. Nigh every family war mournin’ fur somebody; but I war wusser off nor any of ’em. My mother carried a heap of years on her shoulders, an’ when she seed the ole man pulled down an’ scalped, it gave her a shock she never got over. We buried them both nigh the fort, an’ arter stayin’ round fur a week or two, I sot out with a party of trappers fur our ole huntin’ grounds on the Saskatchewan. I never forgot that young Injun, an’ all I keered fur or thought ’bout, war to meet him. I jest knowed that I should find him ag’in some day, an’ if I had met him among his tribe, with hundreds of his friends standin’ round, I would have knowed him.

“Wal, as I war sayin’, I sot out with this party of trappers, an’ it war on the Saskatchewan that I fust diskivered this chestnut king that I had made up my mind to have. I follered him a’most all winter, an’ the more I seed him run, the more I wanted to ketch him. I ’tended to my shar’ of the trappin’, but every chance I got I war arter them hosses. At last they put off somewhar, an’ I never seed ’em ag’in. I couldn’t think what had ’come on ’em, but I knowed that they had gone clean out of the country, an’ that I should have to look fur another hoss, an’ give up all hopes of ketchin’ the chestnut.

“When spring opened, an’ it come good travelin’ we held a council, an’ settled it that we should start fur the fort to onct. We war in a hurry to get away, too, fur some of our fellers had seen Injun sign ’bout two miles from the camp; so, one mornin’ we sot out to gather up our traps. I had ’bout five mile to go to reach my trappin’ ground, so I rode off on a gallop. I went along mighty keerless, fur I didn’t b’lieve what them fellers had said ’bout seein’ Injun sign, but I soon larnt that ole trappers never get fooled ’bout sich things. I hadn’t gone more’n a mile from the camp, when, whizz! something whistled by my head, an’ went chuck into a tree on the other side of me. It war an arrer, an’ afore I could look round to see whar it come from, I heered a yell, an’ the next minit a hoss popped out of the bushes, an’ came t’wards me. An Injun war on his back, an’ in one hand he carried a long spear, an’ with the other he held his bow an’ guided his hoss. As soon as he got cl’ar of the bushes, he p’inted that spear straight at my breast, an’ came at me, full jump. I war a youngster then. I hadn’t been in as many rough-an’-tumble fights with wild Injuns as I have been since, an’ I would have give all the spelter I had trapped that winter if I had been safe in camp. These war the fust thoughts that went through my mind. But arter I had tuk jest one good look at the Injun an’ his hoss, I wouldn’t have been away from thar fur nothin’. The Injun war the young chief that had rubbed out my ole man, an’ the hoss war the chestnut king – the very one I had been tryin’ to ketch fur a’most a year. So, you see, I had two things to work fur. Fust, I had swore to have that Injun’s scalp; next, I wanted that hoss; an’ I made up my mind that I wouldn’t leave that ’ar place till I had ’em both. The young chief war so clost to me that I didn’t have time to shoot, so I sot still in my saddle, an’ when I seed the p’int of the spear ’bout two foot from my breast, I stuck out my rifle an’ turned the we’pon aside. Then, jest as the Injun war goin’ by me, I ketched him by the scalp-lock, quicker nor lightnin’, an’ pulled him from his hoss. My own hoss warn’t trained wuth a plug o’ tobacker, an’, skeered by the fuss, an’ the Injuns yellin’, he give a jump, an’ the fust thing I knowed, me an’ the young chief war rollin’ on the ground together. I’ve had one or two wild savages by the top-knot since then, but I never got hold of a chap of his size that war so strong an’ wiry. When I fust ketched him, I allowed to rub him out easy, fur I war purty good on a rough-an’-tumble, an’ it warn’t every body that could take my measure on the ground; but when I ketched that Injun, I found that I had come acrost a varmint. We fell side by side, I all the while hangin’ on to his har; but afore I could think whar I war, or what a doin’, I found the young chief on top of me; an’, both his hands bein’ free, he commenced feelin’ fur his knife. In course I couldn’t allow that, so I ketched one of his arms, which he twisted out of my grasp, as easy as though I had no strength at all. I tried this two or three times, but findin’ that I couldn’t hold him, I fastened on his belt which held the knife, an’, with one jerk, tore it loose, an’ flung it over my head. The Injun, findin’ that his we’pon war gone, whooped an’ yelled wusser nor ever. We war on even terms now, fur my knife war under me, an’ neither of us could git at it. Then I began tryin’ to git him off me; but it war no use, an’ the Injun findin’ that I breathed hard, held still an’ quiet, hopin’ that I would soon tire myself out, an’ then he would have no trouble in gittin’ away from me. But I war layin’ my plans all this while, an’, watchin’ the Injun clost, I ketched him off his guard, an’ went to work in ’arnest. By the way that chap kicked an’ yelled, I guess he thought I had only been foolin’ with him afore, an’ the way he did fight warn’t a funny thing fur me to think of jest then. But it war no use. I thrashed around till I got hold of my knife, an’, in a minit arter that, the young chief had give his last yell. Arter bein’ sartin that he was done fur, I jumped up an’ run t’wards the mustang, which had stood a little way off watchin’ the fight, as though he war wonderin’ who would come out at the top of the heap. I ketched him easy, an’ arter takin’ the young Injun’s top-knot, I picked up his we’pons – here’s one of ’em, youngsters.”

As the trapper spoke, he drew his hatchet from his belt and handed it to Archie, who sat nearest him. The boys remembered that the first time they met old Bob, they had noticed that his hatchet was different from any they had ever seen. The blade was long and narrow, and as keen as a razor. The back part of the hatchet was hollow, as was also the handle, and thus the weapon could be made to answer the purpose of a pipe. The handle was also ingeniously carved, but was so worn by long and constant usage, that the figures upon it could not be distinguished. The travelers had often noticed that the old trapper was very particular about his “tomahawk,” as he invariably called it; but now that they knew its history, they did not wonder that he considered it worth preserving. When the boys had examined the weapon to their satisfaction, they returned it to old Bob, who continued:

“Wal, arter I had tuk the young chiefs scalp an’ we’pons, (I had his knife, too, but I lost that in the Missouri River by bein’ upset in a canoe,) I jumped on my new hoss, and rode t’wards the camp, leavin’ my ole mustang to go where he pleased. When I reached our fellers, I found ’em all busy packin’ up. They had diskivered signs of a large party of Injuns, an’ they said that the sooner we got away from thar the better it would be fur us. We traveled all that night an’ all the next day, an’ got safe off. I had the laugh on my side then, fur ’em fellers all said I couldn’t never put a bridle on the chestnut king; an’ when I told ’em my story ’bout the young chief, you ought to seed them open their eyes. I hadn’t been fooled ’bout the good pints of that ar’ hoss, fur he war a critter that suited me exactly. He carried me safe through many a fight with grizzly bars an’ Injuns; but, finally, I lost him but a few miles from whar I fust seed him – on the Saskatchewan. I never trapped on that river yet without losin’ somethin’. I have lost two chums thar; throwed away four or five winter’s work – or jest the same as throwed it away, fur all my furs war captur’d by the Injuns, an’ thar I lost this hoss.”