The Dog Crusoe and his Master

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

  DICK BECOMES A HORSE TAMER--RESUMES HIS JOURNEY--CHARLIE'S DOINGS--MISFORTUNES WHICH LEAD TO, BUT DO NOT TERMINATE IN, THE ROCKYMOUNTAINS--A GRIZZLY BEAR.

  There is a proverb--or a saying--or at least somebody or book has toldus, that some Irishman once said--"Be aisy, or, if ye can't be aisy, beas aisy as ye can."

  Now, we count that good advice, and strongly recommend it to all andsundry. Had we been at the side of Dick Varley on the night after histaming of the wild horse, we would have strongly urged that advice uponhim. Whether he would have listened to it or not is quite anotherquestion--we rather think not. Reader, if you wish to know why, go anddo what he did, and if you feel no curious sensations about the regionof the loins after it, we will tell you why Dick Varley wouldn't havelistened to that advice. Can a man feel as if his joints were wrenchedout 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 andre-dislocate themselves perpetually--and listen to advice? Can he feelas if he were sitting down on red-hot iron, when he's not sitting downat 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 thefollowing day in sleep, to make up for it.

  When he got up to breakfast in the afternoon, he felt much better, butshaky.

  "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 thehorse had been picketted. It was standing there quite quiet, butlooking a little timid.

  Dick went boldly up to it, and patted its head and stroked its nose, fornothing is so likely to alarm either a tame or a wild horse as anyappearance of timidity or hesitation on the part of those who approachthem.

  After treating it thus for a short time, he stroked down its neck, andthen its shoulders--the horse eyeing him all the time nervously.Gradually he stroked its back and limbs gently, and walked quietly roundand round it once or twice, sometimes approaching and sometimes goingaway, but never either hesitating or doing anything abruptly. Thisdone, he went down to the stream and filled his cap with water andcarried 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 hetook up the cap and carried it to his nose; the poor creature was almostchoking with thirst, so that, the moment he understood what was in thecap, he buried his lips in it and sucked it up.

  This was a great point gained, he had accepted a benefit at the hands ofhis new master; he had become a debtor to man, and no doubt he felt theobligation. Dick filled the cap, and the horse emptied it again, andagain, and again, until its burning thirst was slaked. Then Dick wentup to his shoulder, patted him, undid the line that fastened him, andvaulted lightly on his back!

  We say _lightly_, for it was so, but it wasn't _easily_, as Dick couldhave told you! However, he was determined not to forego the training ofhis steed on account of what _he_ would have called a "little bit pain."

  At this unexpected act the horse plunged and reared a good deal, andseemed inclined to go through the performance of the day before overagain, but Dick patted and stroked him into quiescence, and having doneso, urged him into a gallop over the plains, causing the dog to gambolround in order that he might get accustomed to him. This tried hisnerves a good deal, and no wonder, for if he took Crusoe for a wolf,which no doubt he did, he must have thought him a very giant of thepack.

  By degrees they broke into a furious gallop, and after breathing himwell, Dick returned and tied him to the tree. Then he rubbed him downagain, and gave him another drink. This time the horse smelt his newmaster all over, and Dick felt that he had conquered him by kindness.No doubt the tremendous run of the day before could scarcely be calledkindness, but without this subduing run he never could have brought theoffices of kindness to bear on so wild a steed.

  During all these operations Crusoe sat looking on with demure sagacity--drinking in wisdom and taking notes. We know not whether any notes madeby the canine race have ever been given to the world, but certain are wethat, if the notes and observations made by Crusoe on that journey werepublished, they would--to say the least--surprise us!

  Next day Dick gave the wild horse his second lesson, and his name. Hecalled him "Charlie," after a much loved companion in the MustangValley. And long and heartily did Dick Varley laugh as he told thehorse his future designation in the presence of Crusoe, for it struckhim as somewhat ludicrous that a mustang, which, two days ago, pawed theearth in all the pride of independent freedom, should suddenly come downso low as to carry a hunter on his back and be named Charlie!

  The next piece of instruction began by Crusoe being led up underCharlie's nose, and while Dick patted the dog with his right hand hepatted the horse with his left. It backed a good deal at first andsnorted, but Crusoe walked slowly and quietly in front of him severaltimes, each time coming nearer, until he again stood under his nose,then the horse smelt him nervously, and gave a sigh of relief when hefound that Crusoe paid no attention to him whatever. Dick then orderedthe dog to lie down at Charlie's feet, and went to the camp to fetch hisrifle, and buffalo robe, and pack of meat. These and all the otherthings belonging to him were presented for inspection, one by one, tothe horse, who arched his neck, and put forward his ears, and eyed themat first, but smelt them all over, and seemed to feel more easy in hismind.

  Next, the buffalo robe was rubbed over his nose, then over his eyes andhead, then down his neck and shoulder, and lastly was placed on hisback. Then it was taken off and _flung_ on; after that it was strappedon, and the various little items of the camp were attached to it. Thisdone, Dick took up his rifle and let him smell it; then he put his handon Charlie's shoulder, vaulted on to his back, and rode away.

  Charlie's education was completed; and now our hero's journey beganagain in earnest, and with some prospect of its speedy termination.

  In this course of training through which Dick put his wild horse, he hadbeen at much greater pains and had taken far longer time than is usuallythe case among the Indians, who will catch, and "break," and ride a wildhorse into camp in less than _three hours_. But Dick wanted to do thething well, which the Indians are not careful to do; besides, it must beborne in remembrance that this was his first attempt, and that his horsewas one of the best and most high spirited, while those caught by theIndians, as we have said, are generally the poorest of a drove.

  Dick now followed the trail of his lost companions at a rapid pace, yetnot so rapidly as he might have done; being averse to exhausting hisgood dog and his new companion. Each night he encamped under the shadeof a tree or a bush when he could find one, or in the open prairie whenthere were none, and, picketting his horse to a short stake or pin whichhe carried with him for the purpose, lit his fire, had supper, and laydown to rest. In a few days Charlie became so tame and so accustomed tohis master's voice that he seemed quite reconciled to his new life.There can be no doubt whatever that he had a great dislike to solitude,for on one occasion, when Dick and Crusoe went off a mile or so from thecamp where Charlie was tied, and disappeared from his view, he was heardto neigh so loudly that Dick ran back thinking the wolves must haveattacked him. He was all right, however, and exhibited evident tokensof satisfaction when they returned.

  On another occasion his fear of being left alone was more clearlydemonstrated.

  Dick had been unable to find wood or water that day, so he was obligedto encamp upon the open plain. The want of water was not seriouslyfelt, however, for he had prepared a bladder in which he always carriedenough to give him one pannikin of hot syrup, and leave a mouthful forCrusoe and Charlie. Dried buffalo dung formed a substitute for fuel.Spreading his buffalo robe, he lit his fire, put on his pannikin toboil, and stuck up a piece of meat to roast, to the great delight ofCrusoe, who sat looking on with much interest
.

  Suddenly Charlie, who was picketted a few hundred yards off in a grassyspot, broke his halter close by the head-piece, and with a snort ofdelight bounded away, prancing and kicking up his heels!

  Dick heaved a deep sigh, for he felt sure that his horse was gone.However, in a little Charlie stopped, and raised his nose high in theair, as if to look for his old equine companions. But they were gone;no answering neigh replied to his; and he felt, probably for the firsttime, that he was really alone in the world. Having no power of smell,whereby he might have traced them out as the dog would have done, helooked in a bewildered and excited state all round the horizon. Thenhis eye fell on Dick and Crusoe sitting by their little fire. Charlielooked hard at them, and then again at the horizon; and then, coming tothe conclusion, no doubt, that the matter was quite beyond hiscomprehension, he quietly took to feeding.

  Dick availed himself of the chance, and tried to catch him; but he spentan hour with Crusoe in the vain attempt, and at last they gave it up indisgust and returned to the fire, where they finished their supper andwent to bed.

  Next morning they saw Charlie feeding close at hand; so they tookbreakfast, and tried to catch him again. But it was of no use; he wasevidently coquetting with them, and dodged about and defied their utmostefforts, for there was only a few inches of line hanging to his head.At last it occurred to Dick that he would try the experiment offorsaking him. So he packed up his things, rolled up the buffalo robe,threw it and the rifle on his shoulder, and walked deliberately away.

  "Come along, Crusoe!" he cried, after walking a few paces.

  But Crusoe stood by the fire with his head up, and an expression on hisface that said, "Hello, man! what's wrong? You've forgot Charlie! Holdon! Are you mad?"

  "Come here, Crusoe!" cried his master in a decided tone.

  Crusoe obeyed at once. Whatever mistake there might be, there wasevidently none in that command; so he lowered his head and tail humbly,and trotted on with his master; but he perpetually turned his head as hewent, first on this side and then on that, to look and wonder atCharlie.

  When they were far away on the plain, Charlie suddenly became aware thatsomething was wrong. He trotted to the brow of a slope with his headand tail very high up indeed, and looked after them; then he looked atthe fire and neighed; then he trotted quickly up to it, and, seeing thateverything was gone, he began to neigh violently, and at last startedoff at full speed, and overtook his friends, passing within a few feetof them, and wheeling round a few yards off, stood trembling like anaspen leaf.

  Dick called him by his name and advanced, while Charlie met himhalf-way, and allowed himself to be saddled, bridled, and mountedforthwith.

  After this Dick had no further trouble with his wild horse.

  At his next camping-place, which was in the midst of a cluster of bushesclose beside a creek, Dick came unexpectedly upon a little wooden cross,which marked the head of a grave. There was no inscription on it, butthe Christian symbol told that it was the grave of a white man. It isimpossible to describe the rush of mingled feelings that filled the soulof the young hunter as he leaned on the muzzle of his rifle and lookedat this solitary resting-place of one who, doubtless like himself, hadbeen a roving hunter. Had he been young or old when he fell?--had he amother in the distant settlement, who watched, and longed, and waitedfor the son that was never more to gladden her eyes?--had he beenmurdered, or had he died there and been buried by his sorrowingcomrades? These and a thousand questions passed rapidly through hismind as he gazed at the little cross.

  Suddenly he started. "Could it be the grave of Joe or Henri?" For aninstant the idea sent a chill to his heart; but it passed quickly, for asecond glance showed that the grave was old, and that the wooden crosshad stood over it for years.

  Dick turned away with a saddened heart; and that night, as he pored overthe pages of his Bible, his mind was filled with many thoughts abouteternity and the world to come. He, too, must come to the grave oneday, and quit the beautiful prairies and his loved rifle. It was a sadthought; but while he meditated he thought upon his mother. "Afterall," he murmured, "there must be happiness _without_ the rifle, andyouth, and health, and the prairie! My mother's happy, yet she don'tshoot, or ride like wildfire over the plains." Then that word which hadbeen sent so sweetly to him through her hand came again to his mind, "Myson, give me thine heart;" and as he read God's book, he met with theword, "Delight thyself in the Lord, and he shall give thee the desire ofthine heart."

  "The _desire of thine heart_." Dick repeated this, and pondered it tillhe fell asleep.

  A misfortune soon after this befell Dick Varley, which well-nigh causedhim to give way to despair. For some time past he had been approachingthe eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains--those ragged, jagged, mightyhills, which run through the whole continent from north to south in acontinuous chain, and form, as it were, the backbone of America. Onemorning, as he threw the buffalo robe off his shoulders and sat up, hewas horrified to find the whole earth covered with a mantle of snow. Wesay he was horrified, for this rendered it absolutely impossible anyfurther to trace his companions either by scent or sight.

  For some time he sat musing bitterly on his sad fate, while his dog cameand laid his head sympathisingly on his arm.

  "Ah! pup," he said, "I know ye'd help me if ye could! But it's all upnow; there's no chance of findin' them--none."

  To this Crusoe replied by a low whine. He knew full well that somethingdistressed his master, but he hadn't yet ascertained what it was. Assomething had to be done, Dick put the buffalo robe on his steed, and,mounting, said, as he was in the habit of doing each morning, "Lead on,pup."

  Crusoe put his nose to the ground and ran forward a few paces, then hereturned and ran about snuffing and scraping up the snow. At last helooked up, and uttered a long melancholy howl.

  "Ah! I knowed it," said Dick, pushing forward. "Come on, pup, you'llhave to _follow_ now. Any way we must go on."

  The snow that had fallen was not deep enough to offer the slightestobstruction to their advance. It was, indeed, only one of thoseoccasional showers common to that part of the country in the lateautumn, which season had now crept upon Dick almost before he was awareof it, and he fully expected that it would melt away in a few days. Inthis hope he kept steadily advancing, until he found himself in themidst of those rocky fastnesses which divide the waters that flow intothe Atlantic from those that flow into the Pacific Ocean. Still theslight crust of snow lay on the ground, and he had no means of knowingwhether he was going in the right direction or not.

  Game was abundant, and there was no lack of wood now, so that his nightbivouac was not so cold or dreary as might have been expected.

  Travelling, however, had become difficult, and even dangerous, owing tothe rugged nature of the ground over which he proceeded. The sceneryhad completely changed in its character. Dick no longer coursed overthe free, open plains, but he passed through beautiful valleys filledwith luxuriant trees, and hemmed in by stupendous mountains, whoserugged sides rose upward until the snow-clad peaks pierced the clouds.

  There was something awful in these dark solitudes, quite overwhelming toa youth of Dick's temperament; his heart began to sink lower and lowerevery day, and the utter impossibility of making up his mind what to dobecame at length agonising. To have turned and gone back the hundredsof miles over which he had travelled would have caused him some anxietyunder any circumstances, but to do so while Joe and Henri were eitherwandering about there or in the power of the savages, was, he felt, outof the question. Yet, in which way should he go? Whatever course hetook might lead him further and further away from them.

  In this dilemma he came to the determination of remaining where he was,at least until the snow should leave the ground.

  He felt great relief even when this hopeless course was decided upon,and set about making himself an encampment with some degree ofcheerfulness. When he had completed this task, he took his rifle, andleaving Charlie
picketted in the centre of a dell, where the long, richgrass rose high above the snow, went off to hunt.

  On turning a rocky point his heart suddenly bounded into his throat, forthere, not thirty yards distant, stood a huge grizzly bear!

  Yes, there he was at last, the monster to meet which the young hunterhad so often longed,--the terrible size and fierceness of which he hadheard so often spoken about by the old hunters. There it stood at last;but little did Dick Varley think that the first time he should meet withhis foe should be when alone in the dark recesses of the RockyMountains, and with none to succour him in the event of the battle goingagainst him. Yes! there was one. The faithful Crusoe stood by hisside, with his hair bristling, all his formidable teeth exposed, and hiseyes glaring in their sockets. Alas! for poor Crusoe, had he gone intothat combat alone. One stroke of that monster's paw would have hurledhim dead upon the ground.