The Captain,
Whose Ideas Of Hard Riding Were All Derived From Transatlantic
Sources, Expressed The Utmost Amazement At The Feats Of Sorel, Who
Went Leaping Ravines, And Dashing At Full Speed Up And Down The Sides
Of Precipitous Hills, Lashing His Horse With The Recklessness Of A
Rocky Mountain Rider.
Unfortunately for the poor animal he was the
property of R., against whom Sorel entertained an unbounded aversion.
The captain himself, it seemed, had also attempted to "run" a
buffalo, but though a good and practiced horseman, he had soon given
over the attempt, being astonished and utterly disgusted at the
nature of the ground he was required to ride over.
Nothing unusual occurred on that day; but on the following morning
Henry Chatillon, looking over the oceanlike expanse, saw near the
foot of the distant hills something that looked like a band of
buffalo. He was not sure, he said, but at all events, if they were
buffalo, there was a fine chance for a race. Shaw and I at once
determined to try the speed of our horses.
"Come, captain; we'll see which can ride hardest, a Yankee or an
Irishman."
But the captain maintained a grave and austere countenance. He
mounted his led horse, however, though very slowly; and we set out at
a trot. The game appeared about three miles distant. As we
proceeded the captain made various remarks of doubt and indecision;
and at length declared he would have nothing to do with such a
breakneck business; protesting that he had ridden plenty of steeple-
chases in his day, but he never knew what riding was till he found
himself behind a band of buffalo day before yesterday.
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