The Hunt of the Wild Horse.
“There must be buffalo in this neighbourhood,” said Basil, looking to the ground as they rode on. “These ‘chips’ are very fresh. They cannot have lain for many days. See! there is a buffalo-road covered with tracks!”
As Basil said this, he pointed to a trough-like hollow in the prairie, running as far as the eye could reach. It looked like the dry bed of a stream; but the hoof-tracks in the bottom showed that it was what he had called it,—a buffalo-road, leading, no doubt, to some river or watering-place. It was so deep that, in riding along it, the heads of our travellers were on a level with the prairie. It had been thus hollowed out by the water during heavy rains, as the soil, previously loosened by the hoofs of the buffaloes, was then carried off to the rivers. Such roads the buffaloes follow at times, thousands of them keeping in the same trail. They travel thus when they are migrating in search of better pastures, or water—to which they know by experience the roads will conduct them.
Our hunters did not follow this road far, as there was no certainty that it would bring them to where the animals then were. They crossed over, and kept on for the butte.
“Voilà!” cried François, “what are these?” François pointed to several circular hollows that appeared in the prairie before them.
“Buffalo-wallows, I declare!” said Basil: “some of them are quite fresh too!”
“Buffalo-wallows!” echoed François; “what are they?”
“Why, have you never heard of them, Frank?” asked Basil. “Places where the buffalo wallow and tumble like horses and farm-cattle.”
“Oh, that’s it,” said François; “but what do they do it for?”
“Well, that I don’t know. Perhaps Luce can tell.”
“Some say,” said Lucien, thus appealed to, “they do it to scratch themselves, and get rid of the flies and other insects that annoy them. Others believe that they practise this curious exercise only by way of diversion.”
“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed François, “what funny fellows they must be!”
“There is yet another more curious explanation,” continued Lucien, “which is this:—that the buffaloes make these hollows to catch water when it rains, so that they may come back to them and drink!”
“Ha! ha! ha!” again laughed François; “I can’t believe that, brother.”
“I would not have you neither,” said Lucien; “of course, the supposition is not true—as the buffalo is not an animal possessing sufficient intelligence for that. It is only offered as a curious suggestion. It is certain, however, that the water collects in these holes during rain-time, and often remains there for days; and the buffaloes, wandering about, drink out of them. Therefore, it may, in one sense, be truly said that the buffaloes dig their own wells! These often prove of service to other animals, as well as those who have made them. Lost trappers and Indians have been saved by finding water in them, when otherwise they would have perished from thirst.”
“How very round they are!” said François; “why, they are perfect circles! How do the buffaloes make them so?”
“By laying themselves out at full length and spinning round and round like a wagon wheel upon its nave. They revolve with great rapidity, using their humped shoulders as a pivot, and their legs as levers. They sometimes continue this motion for half-an-hour at a time. No doubt they do this, as has been said, to scratch themselves; for, notwithstanding their thick hides and hair, they are much annoyed by insect-parasites. They do it, too, for amusement, or to give themselves pleasure, which is the same thing. You have often witnessed horses at a similar exercise; and was it not evident that they took a pleasure in it? Have you not fancied so?”
“Oh, yes,” cried François, “I am sure horses enjoy a good tumble.”
“Well, then, it is to be supposed the buffaloes do the same. Getting rid of their tormentors, and pressing their hot sides into the fresh cool earth, is, no doubt, a source of enjoyment to them. They are not very cleanly; as they are often seen wandering about, so covered with dirt, that one cannot tell what colour their hide is.”
“Well!” added François, “I hope we shall soon come across one with a white hide!”
Talking after this fashion, our young hunters continued their journey. They had ridden about ten miles, when Basil—whose eye was all the time wandering around the prairie horizon—uttered an exclamation, and suddenly reined up his horse. The others, seeing him do so, stopped also.
“What do you see?” asked Lucien.
“I do not know,” replied Basil; “but there is something yonder upon the edge of the prairie—to the southward—do you see it?”
“Yes; it looks like a clump of low trees.”
“No,” said Basil; “they are not trees. This moment I saw one apart from the rest, and I do not see it now. It appeared to move in toward the mass. I fancy they are animals of some kind or other.”
“Buffaloes, I hope!” cried François, raising himself to his full height in the stirrups, and endeavouring to get a sight of them. But François’ pony did not give him a sufficient elevation to enable him to see the objects; and he was, therefore, compelled to withhold an opinion as to what they might be.
“Should we ride towards them?” asked Lucien, addressing Basil.
“I think they are moving this way,” replied the latter. “They extend more along the horizon, and that may be because they are getting nearer. Buffaloes! no—as I live,” continued he, elevating his voice, “they are horsemen—perhaps mounted Indians!”
“Why do you think so?” inquired Lucien, hurriedly.
“I saw one between me and the sky. I can tell the shape of a horse as far as I can see him. I am sure it was one. Look! yonder goes another!”
“It is,” added Lucien; “it is a horse. But see! there is no rider—no one on his back; and yonder’s another, also without a rider. Ha! I know now—they are mustangs!”
“Mustangs!” echoed François; “good!—that will be something worth seeing.”
It soon proved that Lucien was right. It was a drove of mustangs, or wild horses. Basil was also right in saying that they were coming towards them; for in a few moments they appeared to be within less than a mile, and approaching at a rapid gallop.
They galloped closely together like a trained troop; and one could be perceived some lengths in the advance apparently acting as leader. Now and then one would shy out of the ranks, and rear a moment apart from the rest, but would return again, and fall in with his companions. It was a rare sight to see them as they came on; and the ground thundered under their hoofs as though a squadron of cavalry was charging over it.
When within less than half a mile of the party, they seemed to notice the latter for the first time. All at once the foremost halted, threw up his head with a snort, and stood still. The others stopped, imitating the example of their leader. The latter was still some paces in the advance; while the breasts of his followers seemed to form a compact front, like cavalry in line of battle! After standing still for a few seconds, the leader uttered a shrill neigh, shied to the right, and dashed off at full speed. The others answered the call; and, instantly wheeling into the same direction, followed after. The movement was executed with the precision of a troop!
Our hunters supposed the horses were about to pass them, and part company without coming closer. They all regretted this, as they were desirous of having a nearer view of these noble creatures. In order not to alarm them as they were coming up, all three had taken the precaution to dismount; and now stood partially screened by their own horses, yet holding the latter firmly—as these were terrified by the thundering tramp of the wild steeds.
In a moment the mustangs appeared opposite—that is, with their sides turned to the hunters; and the latter now saw with joy that they were not passing away, but galloping in a circle—of which they, the spectators, were the centre!
The circle in which the horses ran was scarcely half a mile in diameter, and they appeared to be approaching nearer to the centre. In fact, they were not following the circumference of a circle, but a spiral curve that contracted gradually inward.
The boys had now a fair view of them, and a beautiful sight it was. There were about two hundred in all, but they were of different colours—scarcely two of them being marked alike. There were black and white ones, and bay and roan. Some were brown, some sorrel, and some of an iron-grey; and there were others—many of them—mottled and spotted like hounds! All had flowing manes and long waving tails; and these streamed behind them as they galloped, adding to the gracefulness of their appearance. It was, in truth, a beautiful sight, and the hearts of the boys bounded within them, while their eyes followed the moving troop as it circled round and round.
But the eyes of all three soon centred upon one—the leader, and a fairer object none of them had ever beheld. Basil, who loved a fine horse more than any living thing, was in an ecstasy as he gazed upon this beautiful creature. It was no wonder, for a more perfect-looking animal could hardly have been conceived. He was larger than any of the herd, though still under the size of an English horse. His full chest and prominent eye-balls—his well-bound flanks and quarters—his light cylindrical limbs and small finely-shaped hoofs, showed of what race he was—an Arab of the Andalusian breed—a descendant of the noble steeds that carried the first conquerors of Mexico. His proportions were what a judge would have pronounced perfect; and ............