CHAPTER XX.
THE HUNT OF WILD HORSES.
Don Miguel Zarate and his two friends did not reach the hacienda tilllate. They were received in the porch by Don Pablo and Dona Clara, whomanifested great joy at the sight of the French missionary, for whomthey felt a sincere esteem and great friendship. Spite of all his care,Fray Ambrosio had always seen his advances repelled by the young people,in whom he instinctively inspired that fear mingled with disgust that isexperienced at the sight of a reptile.
Dona Clara, who was very pious, carried this repulsion to such a pitchthat she only confessed her faults and approached the holy table whenFather Seraphin came to spend a few days at the hacienda.
Fray Ambrosio was too adroit to appear to notice the effect his presenceproduced on the hacendero's children: he feigned to attribute totimidity and indifference on religious matters what was in reality astrongly expressed loathing for himself personally. But in his heart adull hatred fermented against the two young folk, and especially againstthe missionary, whom he had several times already attempted to destroyby well-laid snares.
Father Seraphin had always escaped them by a providential chance; but inspite of the chaplain's obsequious advances, and the offers of servicehe did not fail to overwhelm him with each time they met, the missionaryhad thoroughly read the Mexican monk. He had guessed what fearfulcorruption was hidden beneath his apparent simplicity and feigned piety:and while keeping to himself the certainty he had acquired, he remainedon his guard, and carefully watched this man, whom he suspected ofincessantly planning some dark treachery against him. Don Miguel lefthis children with the missionary, who immediately took possession of himand dragged him away, lavishing on him every possible attention. Thehacendero retired to his study with General Ibanez, when the two mendrew up a list of the persons they intended to invite; that is to say,the persons Valentine proposed to get out of the way, though they wereinnocent of his scheme. The general then mounted his horse, and rode offto deliver the invitations personally. For his part Don Miguel sent offa dozen peons and vaqueros in search of the wild horses, and to drivethem gradually toward the spot chosen for the hunt.
Gen. Ibanez succeeded perfectly: the invitations were gladly accepted,and the next evening the guests began arriving at the hacienda, DonMiguel receiving them with marks of the most profound respect and lavishhospitality.
The governor, General Isturitz, Don Luciano Perez, and seven or eightpersons of inferior rank were soon assembled at the hacienda. At sunrisea numerous party, composed of forty persons, left the hacienda, andproceeded, accompanied by a crowd of well-mounted peons, towards themeet. This was a vast plain on the banks of the Rio del Norte, where thewild horses were accustomed to graze at this season. The caravanproduced the most singular and picturesque effect with the brilliantcostumes of the persons who composed it, and their horses glitteringwith gold and silver. Starting at about four a.m. from the hacienda,they reached four hours later a clump of trees, beneath whose shadetents had been raised and tables laid by Don Miguel's orders, so thatthey might breakfast before the hunt.
The riders, who had been journeying for four hours, already exposed tothe rays of the sun and the dust, uttered a shout of joy at the sight ofthe tents. Each dismounted: the ladies were invited to do the same,among them being the wives of the governor and General Isturitz, andDona Clara, and they gaily sat down round the tables.
Toward the end of the breakfast Don Pablo arrived, who had started theevening previously to join the vaqueros. He announced that the horseshad been started, that a large manada was now crossing the Plain of theCoyotes, watched by the vaqueros, and that they must make haste if theywished to have good sport. This news augmented the ardor of the hunters.The ladies were left in camp under the guard of a dozen well-armedpeons, and the whole party rushed at a gallop in the direction indicatedby Don Pablo.
The Plain of the Coyotes extended for an enormous distance along thebanks of the river. Here and there rose wooded hills, which varied thelandscape that was rendered monotonous by the tall grass, in which theriders disappeared up to their waists. When the hunting party reachedthe skirt of the plain Don Miguel ordered a halt, that they might hold acouncil, and hear the report of the leader of the vaqueros.
The races of wild horses that nowadays people the deserts of NorthAmerica, and especially of Mexico, is descended from Cortez' cavalry.Hence it is a pure breed, for at the period of the Spanish conquest onlyArab horses were employed. These horses have multiplied in really anextraordinary manner. It is not rare to meet with manadas of twenty andeven thirty thousand head. They are small, but gifted with an energy andvigour of which it is impossible to form a fair idea without having seenthem. They accomplish without fatigue journeys of prodigious length.Their coat is the same as that of other horses, save that during winterit grows very long, and frizzy like the wool of sheep. In spring thisspecies of fur falls off. The American horses may be easily trained.Generally, so soon as they find themselves caught they easily submit tothe saddle.
The Mexicans treat their steeds very harshly, make them journey thewhole day without food or drink, and only give them their ration ofmaize and water on reaching the bivouac, where they let them wanderabout the whole night under guard of the _nena_, a mare whose bell thehorses follow, and will never leave. It is not from any cruel motive,however, that the Mexicans treat their horses thus, for the riders arevery fond of their animals, which at a given moment may save theirlives. But it seems that this mode of treatment, which would beimpracticable in Europe, is perfectly successful in Mexico, where thehorses are much better off than if treated in a more gentle way.
The leader of the vaqueros made his report. A manada of about tenthousand head was two leagues off on the plain, quietly grazing in thecompany of a few elks and buffaloes. The hunters scaled a hill, from thetop of which they easily saw on the horizon a countless mob of animals,grouped in a most picturesque way, and apparently not at all suspectingthe danger that threatened them.
To hunt the wild horses men must be like the Mexicans, perfect centaurs.I have seen the _jinetes_ of that country accomplish feats ofhorsemanship before which our Europeans would turn pale.
After the vaquero's report Don Miguel and his friends held a council,and this is the resolution they came to. They formed what is called inMexico the grand circle of the wild horses; that is to say, the mostskilful riders were echeloned in every direction at a certain distancefrom each other, so as to form an immense circle. The wild horses areextremely suspicious: their instinct is so great, their scent is sosubtle, that the slightest breath of wind is sufficient to carry to themthe smell of their enemies, and make them set off at headlong speed.Hence it is necessary to act with the greatest prudence, and use manyprecautions, if a surprise is desired.
When all the preparations were made the hunters dismounted, and draggingtheir horses after them, glided through the tall grass so as to contractthe circle. This manoeuvre had gone on for some time, and they hadsensibly drawn nearer, when the manada began to display some signs ofrestlessness. The horses, which had hitherto grazed calmly, raised theirheads, pricked their ears, and neighed as they inhaled the air. Suddenlythey collected, formed a compact band, and started at a trot in thedirection of some cottonwood trees which stood on the banks of theriver. The hunt was about to commence.
At a signal from Don Miguel six well-mounted vaqueros rushed at fullspeed ahead of the manada, making their lassoes whistle round theirheads. The horses, startled by the apparition of the riders, turned backhastily, uttering snorts of terror, and fled in another direction. Buteach time they tried to force the circle, horsemen rode into the midstof them, and compelled them to turn back.
It is necessary to have been present at such a chase, to have seen thishunt on the prairies, to form an idea of the magnificent sight offeredby all these noble brutes, their eyes afire, their mouths foaming, theirheads haughtily thrown up, and their manes fluttering in the wind, asthey bounded and galloped in the fatal circle the hunters h
ad formedround them. There is in such a sight something intoxicating, whichcarries away the most phlegmatic, and renders them mad with enthusiasmand pleasure.
When this manoeuvre had lasted long enough, and the horses began to growblinded with terror, at a signal given by Don Miguel the circle wasbroken at a certain spot. The horses rushed, with a sound like thunder,toward this issue which opened before them, overturning with theirchests everything that barred their progress. But it was this thehunters expected. The horses, in their mad race, galloped on withoutdreaming that the road they followed grew gradually narrower in front ofthem, and terminated in inevitable captivity.
Let us explain the termination of the hunt. The manada had been cleverlyguided by the hunters toward the entrance of a canyon, or ravine, whichran between two rather lofty hills. At the end of this ravine thevaqueros had formed, with stakes fifteen feet long, planted in theground, and firmly fastened together with cords of twisted bark, animmense corral or inclosure, into which the horses rushed without seeingit. In less than no time the corral was full; then the hunters went tomeet the manada, which they cut off at the risk of their lives, whilethe others closed the entrance of the corral. More than fifteen hundredmagnificent wild horses were thus captured at one stroke.
The noble animals rushed with snorts of fury at the walls of theinclosure, trying to tear up the stakes with their teeth, and dashingmadly against them. At length they recognised the futility of theirefforts, lay down, and remained motionless. In the meanwhile atremendous struggle was going on in the ravine between the hunters andthe rest of the manada. The horses confined in this narrow space madeextraordinary efforts to open a passage and fly anew. They neighed,stamped, and flew at everything that came within their reach. At lengththey succeeded in regaining their first direction, and rushed into theplain with the velocity of an avalanche. Several vaqueros had beendismounted and trampled on by the horses, and two of them had receivedsuch injuries that they were carried off the ground in a state ofinsensibility.
With all the impetuosity of youth Don Pablo had rushed into the veryheart of the manada. Suddenly his horse received a kick which broke itsoff foreleg, and it fell to the ground, dragging its rider with it. Thehunters uttered a cry of terror and agony. In the midst of this band ofmaddened horses the young man was lost, for he must be trampled to deathunder their hoofs. But he rose with the rapidity of lightning, and quickas thought seizing the mane of the nearest horse, he leaped on its back,and held on by his knees. The horses were so pressed against one anotherthat any other position was impossible. Then a strange thingoccurred--an extraordinary struggle between the horse and its rider. Thenoble beast, furious at feeling its back dishonoured by the weight itbore, bounded, reared, rushed forward; but all was useless, for DonPablo adhered firmly.
So long as it was in the ravine, the horse, impeded by its comrades,could not do all it might have wished to get rid of the burden it bore;but so soon as it found itself on the plain it threw up its head, madeseveral leaps on one side, and then started forward at a speed whichtook away the young man's breath.
Don Pablo held on firmly by digging his knees into the panting sides ofhis steed; he unfastened his cravat, and prepared to play the last scenein this drama, which threatened to terminate in a tragic way for him.The horse had changed its tactics; it was racing in a straight line tothe river, resolved to drown itself with its rider sooner than submit.The hunters followed with an interest mingled with terror the movinginterludes of this mad race, when suddenly the horse changed its plansagain, reared, and tried to fall back with its rider. The huntersuttered a shout of agony. Don Pablo clung convulsively to his animal'sneck, and, at the moment it was falling back, he threw his cravat overits eyes with extraordinary skill.
The horse, suddenly blinded, fell back again on its feet, and stoodtrembling with terror. Then the young man dismounted, put his face tothe horse's head, and breathed into its nostrils, while gentlyscratching its forehead. This operation lasted ten minutes at the most,the horse panting and snorting, but not daring to leave the spot. TheMexican again leaped on the horse's back, and removed the bandage; itremained stunned--Don Pablo had tamed it[1]. Everybody rushed toward theyoung man, who smiled proudly, in order to compliment him on hissplendid victory. Don Pablo dismounted, gave his horse to a vaquero, whoimmediately passed a bridle round its neck, and then walked toward hisfather, who embraced him tenderly. For more than an hour Don Miguel haddespaired of his son's life.
[1] This mode of taming horses is well known to the Indians, and wesubmit the fact to our readers without comment.
The Trail-Hunter: A Tale of the Far West Page 20
