In Defiance Of The Rain He Was Stalking Among The
Horses, Wrapped In An Old Scotch Plaid.
An extreme solicitude
tormented him, lest some of his favorites should escape, or some
accident should befall them; and he cast an anxious eye toward three
wolves who were sneaking along over the dreary surface of the plain,
as if he dreaded some hostile demonstration on their part.
On the next morning we had gone but a mile or two, when we came to an
extensive belt of woods, through the midst of which ran a stream,
wide, deep, and of an appearance particularly muddy and treacherous.
Delorier was in advance with his cart; he jerked his pipe from his
mouth, lashed his mules, and poured forth a volley of Canadian
ejaculations. In plunged the cart, but midway it stuck fast.
Delorier leaped out knee-deep in water, and by dint of sacres and a
vigorous application of the whip, he urged the mules out of the
slough. Then approached the long team and heavy wagon of our
friends; but it paused on the brink.
"Now my advice is - " began the captain, who had been anxiously
contemplating the muddy gulf.
"Drive on!" cried R.
But Wright, the muleteer, apparently had not as yet decided the point
in his own mind; and he sat still in his seat on one of the shaft-
mules, whistling in a low contemplative strain to himself.
"My advice is," resumed the captain, "that we unload; for I'll bet
any man five pounds that if we try to go through, we shall stick
fast."
"By the powers, we shall stick fast!" echoed Jack, the captain's
brother, shaking his large head with an air of firm conviction.
"Drive on! drive on!" cried R. petulantly.
"Well," observed the captain, turning to us as we sat looking on,
much edified by this by-play among our confederates, "I can only give
my advice and if people won't be reasonable, why, they won't; that's
all!"
Meanwhile Wright had apparently made up his mind; for he suddenly
began to shout forth a volley of oaths and curses, that, compared
with the French imprecations of Delorier, sounded like the roaring of
heavy cannon after the popping and sputtering of a bunch of Chinese
crackers. At the same time he discharged a shower of blows upon his
mules, who hastily dived into the mud and drew the wagon lumbering
after them. For a moment the issue was dubious. Wright writhed
about in his saddle, and swore and lashed like a madman; but who can
count on a team of half-broken mules? At the most critical point,
when all should have been harmony and combined effort, the perverse
brutes fell into lamentable disorder, and huddled together in
confusion on the farther bank. There was the wagon up to the hub in
mud, and visibly settling every instant. There was nothing for it
but to unload; then to dig away the mud from before the wheels with a
spade, and lay a causeway of bushes and branches. This agreeable
labor accomplished, the wagon at last emerged; but if I mention that
some interruption of this sort occurred at least four or five times a
day for a fortnight, the reader will understand that our progress
toward the Platte was not without its obstacles.
We traveled six or seven miles farther, and "nooned" near a brook.
On the point of resuming our journey, when the horses were all driven
down to water, my homesick charger, Pontiac, made a sudden leap
across, and set off at a round trot for the settlements. I mounted
my remaining horse, and started in pursuit. Making a circuit, I
headed the runaway, hoping to drive him back to camp; but he
instantly broke into a gallop, made a wide tour on the prairie, and
got past me again. I tried this plan repeatedly, with the same
result; Pontiac was evidently disgusted with the prairie; so I
abandoned it, and tried another, trotting along gently behind him, in
hopes that I might quietly get near enough to seize the trail-rope
which was fastened to his neck, and dragged about a dozen feet behind
him. The chase grew interesting. For mile after mile I followed the
rascal, with the utmost care not to alarm him, and gradually got
nearer, until at length old Hendrick's nose was fairly brushed by the
whisking tail of the unsuspecting Pontiac. Without drawing rein, I
slid softly to the ground; but my long heavy rifle encumbered me, and
the low sound it made in striking the horn of the saddle startled
him; he pricked up his ears, and sprang off at a run. "My friend,"
thought I, remounting, "do that again, and I will shoot you!"
Fort Leavenworth was about forty miles distant, and thither I
determined to follow him. I made up my mind to spend a solitary and
supperless night, and then set out again in the morning. One hope,
however, remained. The creek where the wagon had stuck was just
before us; Pontiac might be thirsty with his run, and stop there to
drink. I kept as near to him as possible, taking every precaution
not to alarm him again; and the result proved as I had hoped: for he
walked deliberately among the trees, and stooped down to the water.
I alighted, dragged old Hendrick through the mud, and with a feeling
of infinite satisfaction picked up the slimy trail-rope and twisted
it three times round my hand. "Now let me see you get away again!" I
thought, as I remounted. But Pontiac was exceedingly reluctant to
turn back; Hendrick, too, who had evidently flattered himself with
vain hopes, showed the utmost repugnance, and grumbled in a manner
peculiar to himself at being compelled to face about. A smart cut of
the whip restored his cheerfulness; and dragging the recovered truant
behind, I set out in search of the camp. An hour or two elapsed,
when, near sunset, I saw the tents, standing on a rich swell of the
prairie, beyond a line of woods, while the bands of horses were
feeding in a low meadow close at hand.
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