Frank in the Woods

“‘Whar do you hail from, stranger?’ inquired ole Bob Kelly, who allers took them matters into his own hands, an’ we little fellers had to set round an’ listen.

“‘I b’long anywhere night ketches me,’ answered the stranger. ‘I’m an ole trapper in these yere parts.’

“‘Whar’s your hoss?’ asked ole Bob.

“‘I left him dead on the prairy – dead as a herrin’. I rid him a leetle too hard, I reckon. I war chasin’ up the black mustang.’

“If I should live to be a hundred year older ’n I’m now, an’ should live among the Blackfoot Injuns the hull time, I shouldn’t expect to hear another sich a yell as ’em trappers give when the stranger mentioned the black mustang. They crowded round him like a flock o’ sheep, all askin’ him questions; an’ he tried to answer ’em all to onct; an’ sich a row as there war round that camp-fire for a few minits! It war wusser nor any Injun war-dance I ever seed. Now, me an’ Bill hadn’t never seed the black mustang, nor heerd o’ him afore, ’cause we hadn’t trapped in that part o’ the country for a’most three year, but we knowed in a minit that it must be the leader o’ some drove. But Bill had lived among the Injuns so much that he had got kinder used to their ways, an’ he didn’t like to see them trappers carryin’ on so, an’ actin’ like a parcel o’ young’uns jest turned loose from school; so, as soon as he could make himself heered, he yelled:

“‘What in tarnation’s the matter with you fellers? As soon as you git through hollerin’, me an’ Dick would like to know what all this yere fuss is about.’

“‘Why, the black mustang has been within ten mile of this yere camp to-night,’ said one of the trappers.

“‘Wal, an’ what o’ that?’ said Bill. ’Ar the black mustang any better hoss than the gray king?’

“They all set up another yell at this, an’ one of ’em said:

“‘Why, the gray ain’t nothin’ ’long side o’ the black mustang. He could run away from him in less’n two minits. I guess you hain’t hearn tell of him, have you?’

“‘In course I hain’t,’ said Bill.

“‘Then you ain’t no great shakes of a trapper,’ said another.

“Now, the rascal knowed that war a lie, for there warn’t no trapper in the country that could lay over Bill, ’cept ole Bob Kelly, an’ every one said as how he war the best trapper agoin’; an’ the way Bill eyed the feller, made him kinder keerful of his we’pons for a day or two arterward.

“Arter talking a little while, we found out the black mustang war the leader o’ the largest drove on the prairy. He had been round for ’bout a year, an’ every trapper in that part of the country had had a chase arter him; but it war like chasin’ the wind; an’ besides this, he could run all day, an’ be jest as fresh at night as when he started in the mornin’.

“‘Wal,’ thinks I, ‘Dick, here’s a good chance for you to try your hoss’s travelin’ qualities;’ an’ I made up my mind that I would start off an’ foller the black mustang till I ketched him, if it tuk me my lifetime.

“The next mornin’, arter breakfast, one o’ the trappers proposed that we should spend three or four days in huntin’ up the mustang, an’, in course, we all agreed to it. The stranger wanted to go, too, but we had no hoss to give him; so, arter biddin’ us all good-by, he shouldered his rifle an’ started out alone acrost the prairy. Wal, we spent a week tryin’ to find that hoss, but didn’t even get a sight at him; so one mornin’ old Bob Kelly concluded that we had better make another strike for the Saskatchewan. We packed up an’ got all ready to start, when I tuk them a good deal by surprise by tellin’ ’em that I war goin’ to stay an’ hunt up the black mustang. How they all laughed at me!

“‘Laugh away, boys,’ says I, as I got on to my hoss. ‘I’ll see you on the Saskatchewan in a month or so, an’ I’ll either bring the mustang with me, or he’ll be a dead hoss. If I can’t ketch him, I can shoot him, you know; an’ I won’t see you agin till I do one or the other. Good-by, fellers.’ An’ I turned my hoss an’ rode away from the camp.

“Wal, I rode all over them prairies for a’most six weeks, without seein’ the sign of a hoss; an’ one arternoon I stopped on the top of a high swell to take my reckonin’. I found myself on the east side o’ the Black Hills, an’ I knowed that my first job was to get on the other side; the mustang had prob’bly struck off toward the mountains. So I began to look around for a good place to get over. The hills rose from the prairy reg’lar bluff-like – sometimes a hundred feet high, an’ so steep that a sheep couldn’t climb up ’em. Jest as it begun to grow dark, I come to a deep ravine, that seemed to run up into the hills a good way; an’ the bottom of this yere ravine was as hard an’ smooth as a floor, an’ looked as if it had been traveled over a good deal. But I war kinder tired with my day’s tramp, an’ didn’t notice it much, for I thought it war nothin’ more’n a buffaler road; so I picked out a good place an’ camped for the night.

“’Arly the next mornin’ I set out agin; but as soon as I got on the road I knowed that no buffaler had made them tracks; they war mustangs, an’ there war the prints of their hoofs in the dust, plain as a bar’s ears. When I come to examine the signs, I found, as nigh as I could kalkerlate, that there war about three hundred hosses in the drove, an’ I knowed, from the looks of the tracks, that they had been along lately; so I pushed ahead as fast as my hoss could carry me, an’ that wasn’t slow, I tell you. I rid him all day at a tearin’ rate, an’ at dark he seemed as willin’ to go as when I started out. This put me in high spirits, an’ I made up my mind that if me and my hoss ever got arter that black mustang, he would have to pick up his feet mighty lively to get away from us. The next day, about noon, I war riding along at a thumpin’ rate, when all to onct I come to a place where the ravine opened into a small prairy, and scattered all over it war the wild hosses, feedin’ away as peaceably as if no one had ever thought of disturbin’ them there. I pulled up so quick that it a’most brought my hoss on his haunches; but the mustangs had seed me, an’ the way they snorted an’ galloped about war a purty thing to look at. I drawed off into the bushes as quick as I could, an’ gathered up my lasso, which I allers carried at my saddle-bow, an’ then looked toward the drove agin. The first hoss I seed was the black mustang. He war runnin’ about, tossin’ his head an’ snortin’ as though he didn’t hardly understand the matter. He war the purtiest hoss I ever sot eyes on; but I couldn’t stop to examine his pints then. Then I tuk a look round the prairy, an’ saw that the hills rose on all sides of it; there was but one way the hosses could get out, an’ that war through the ravine. I war in luck for onct in my life. Now, you boys, if you had been there, would, most like, run out into the prairy to onct, an’ tried to ketch him, but that would have been a reg’lar boy trick, and would have spiled it all. I knowed that I had the black hoss surrounded, but if I begun to race him round that prairy, he would dodge me, an’ be off down the ravine like a shot; so I kept still in the bushes; an’ my hoss knowed his own bisness, and stood as though he war made of rock.

“Purty soon the hosses begun to get over their skeer an’ commenced comin’ toward me – the black hoss leadin’ the way. He would come a few steps, an’ then stop an’ paw the ground, an’ then come a little nearer, an’ so on, till he come within ’bout half a lasso-throw, when, all of a sudden, I give my hoss the word, an’ he jumped out o’ them bushes like a streak o’ lightnin’. It would have made you laugh to see the way them hosses put off; the black hoss, seemed to me, war on wings; but he hadn’t made three jumps afore my lasso war around his neck. The black mustang war mine!

“In about three weeks I reached the Saskatchewan, an’ if you could have heard the yell them trappers give when I rode up to the camp on the mustang, it would have done your heart good. I had kept my promise.”

CHAPTER XIV

A Brush with the Greasers

DICK replenished his pipe and prepared to rest, after his tale was completed, when Frank suddenly inquired:

“Dick, how came that scar on your face?”

The “scar” Frank had reference to, was an ugly-looking wen, extending entirely across the trapper’s face, and completely “spilin’ his good looks,” as he sometimes used to remark.

“That war done in a fight with some tarnal Greasers,” answered Dick. “I come mighty nigh havin’ my neck stretched that night, an’ the way it happened war this:”

After a few whiffs at his pipe, he continued:

“When our government war settlin’ our little dispute with the Mexikin Greasers, I, like a good many other trappers, thought that I should like to take a hand in the muss. I hate a Greaser wusser nor I do an Injun. So, arter a little talk, me an’ Bill jined a company o’ Rangers that war raised by an ole trapper we used to call Cap’n Steele. A’most every man in the company war a trapper or hunter, for the cap’n wouldn’t take only them as could show the claws o’ three or four grizzlies they had rubbed out, an’ as many Injun scalps.

“Wal, when we got together, I reckon we war about the roughest lookin’ set o’ men you ever see. Each one dressed as suited him best, an’ all armed with rifles, tomahawks, an’ huntin’-knives. But our looks didn’t seem to set ole Gen’ral Taylor agin us, for when we rode up to his camp, an’ our cap’n had told him what we war, an’ what we could do, he seemed mighty glad to see us; and we war sent to onct to the quarter-master, an’ detailed to take care o’ his cattle an’ hosses, fight guerrillas, an’ carry letters from one place to another. We knowed the country purty well, for there were few of us that hadn’t traveled over it more’n onct in our lives; but whenever we war sent off anywhere we used to have a Mexikin guide, who showed us the short cuts through the mountains.

“Wal, just arter the battle o’ Monterey, our company war cut up into little squads, an’ scattered all over the country; some went with the gen’ral, an’ some war put in Cap’n Morgan’s company, an’ sent scoutin’ around, an’ four of us war left at Monterey with the quarter-master.

“One day ole Bill come to me an’ said:

“‘Dick, the kurnel wants to see you. I guess he’s got some business for you to ’tend to.’

“I went up to the head-quarters, an’ the kurnel told me that he had some very important letters which he wanted to send to Major Davis, who was then stationed at a little town called Alamo, an’ as I had the finest hoss in the town, he thought it best to send me. Alamo war on the other side o’ the mountains, an’ about a hundred an’ fifty miles off. As the kurnel had said, I had the best hoss in the hull camp, an’, in course, it wouldn’t have been no trouble to have gone there if the country had been clear – the ride wasn’t nothin’; but the Mexikins war comin’ down toward Monterey, an’ the kurnel thought that they war goin’ to try to take the city from us agin. I knowed there war danger in it, but I didn’t mind that. I war used to it, an’ if I got into a scrape, it wouldn’t be the first one I war in; so I started off arter my hoss, an’ in a few minits I war ready an’ waitin’ at the kurnel’s door for the letters. Purty soon he come out an’ give ’em to me, sayin’:

“‘Now, Dick, be mighty keerful of ’em, ’cause there’s some news in ’em that I shouldn’t like to have the Mexikins get hold of. This man,’ pintin’ to a Greaser that stood a little behind me, holdin’ his hoss, ‘will be your guide. He knows all about the mountains.’ Then, movin’ up a little closer to me, he whispered: ‘He’ll bear watchin’, I think; I don’t know much about him, but he is the only man I have got to send with you, an’ them letters must be in Major Davis’s hands by to-morrow night.’

“‘All right, kurnel,’ I answered; ‘I’ll look out for him. I never see a Greaser yet that could pull the wool over my eyes. I’ll give the letters to Major Davis afore this time to-morrow. Good by.’ An’ me an’ the guide rid off.

“As soon as I had got out of the city, I turned to have a look at my guide, an’ I thought, as the kurnel had said, that he would bear watchin’. He war the most villainous lookin’ Mexikin I ever sot eyes on. He war a young feller, not more’n twenty-two or twenty-three year old; but he had an eye that looked like an eagle’s, an’ it wasn’t still a minit. He war dressed in a reg’lar Greaser’s rig, with a slouch hat, short jacket, all covered with gold lace, an’ pantaloons, wide at the bottom, an’ open on the side as far as his knees. He had a splendid hoss, an’ war armed with a carbine, short saber, an’ a lasso; an’ I knowed that if me an’ him got into a muss, that lasso would bother me more’n his sword or shootin’-iron. The Greasers, as a gen’ral thing, ain’t no great shakes at shootin’, an’ in a rough-an’-tumble fight they ain’t nowhere; but them ar raw-hide lassoes ar the meanest things in the world to fight; they’ll have one of ’em around your neck afore you know it. I had a little experience in that line afore I got back. Arter we had got outside o’ the pickets a little way, he turned in his saddle, an’ tried to commence a talk with me in Spanish; but I made him believe that I couldn’t understand a word he said. I thought that if I should tell him that I couldn’t talk his lingo, it would make him a little keerless; an’ so it did.

“We rid all day as fast as our hosses could travel, an’ afore dark we got acrost the mountains, an’ stopped afore a little house, where the guide said would be a good place to pass the night. I didn’t much like the idee; had rather camp right down in the woods; but, in course, that would only put him on the look-out, an’ I knowed that the best way to do war to act as though I thought every thing war all right. A man come to the gate as we rid up, an’, as soon as he see my guide, he touched his hat to him in reg’lar soldier style. The guide answered the salute, an’ asked the man, in Spanish:

“‘Are you alone, José?’

“‘Yes, gen’ral,’ answered the man. Then making a slight motion toward me, which, I made believe I didn’t notice, he asked:

“‘But the American?’

“’O, he can’t understand Spanish,’ said my rascally guide. ‘No fear of him; he thinks it’s all right. Did you receive my letter?’

“‘Yes, gen’ral,’ answered the man, touching his hat agin.

“‘Don’t make so many motions, you fool,’ said my guide; ‘the American is not blind. You got my letter all right, you say? Then Bastian, with five hundred men, will be here at midnight?’

“‘Yes, gen’ral.’

“The guide seemed satisfied, for he got off his hoss, an’ motioned me, with a good many smiles an’ grimaces, to do the same. I could see that I war in a purty tight place, an’ I had a good notion to draw one o’ my six-shooters an’ kill both o’ the rascals where they stood. But, thinks I, there may be more of these yere yaller-bellies around here somewhere, an’ besides, if I wait, I may get a chance to capture the gen’ral, for my guide war none other than Gen’ral Cortinas, an’ one o’ the best officers the Mexikins had. He had bothered us more’n their hull army, an’ the kurnel had offered to give a thousand dollars for him alive, or five hundred for his scalp. I didn’t care a snap for the money, ’cause it warn’t no use to me on the prairy; all I wanted war a good Kentucky rifle, plenty o’ powder an’ lead, an’ a good hoss, an’ I war satisfied. But I wanted to capture that gen’ral, an’ take him into camp, for he war a nuisance. In battle he never showed no quarter, an’ if he tuk any prisoners, it war only that he might let his men try their hands at shootin’. He seemed to understand fightin’ better nor the rest o’ the Mexikins, an’ it showed that he war a brave feller when he would come right into camp, with sich a price sot on his head.

“I warn’t long in makin’ up my mind what I ought to do, an’ I got down off my hoss, as though there warn’t a Greaser within a hundred miles o’ me; but, instead o’ givin the hoss into charge o’ the man, I hit him a cut with my whip that sent him flyin’ up the road. I knowed that he wouldn’t be far off when I wanted him, an’ I knowed, too, that my saddle an’ pistols war safe, ’cause nobody couldn’t ketch him besides me. Arter goin’ a little way up the road, he turned an’ looked back, an’ then jumped over a hedge into a field, an’ begun to eat. I could see that the Mexikins didn’t like it a bit, for they looked at each other an’ scowled, an’ José said:

“‘Carrajo! do you s’pose the American suspects any thing, gen’ral?’

“‘It don’t make no difference whether he does or not, said my guide, turnin’ on his heel, an’ motionin’ me to follow him to the house; ‘he’s in our power, an’ don’t leave this place alive.’

“Now, you wouldn’t have called that very pleasant news, I take it. Wal, it did make me feel rather onpleasant; but I didn’t exactly believe what the ole rascal had said about my not goin’ away alive. Thinks I, shootin’ is a game two can play at, an’ as long as you don’t bring them tarnal lassoes round, I’m all right. I had never seed a six-shooter afore I went into the army, but I had l’arnt to use ’em a’most as well as I could my rifle. I found that they war mighty handy things in a fight. I had four of ’em, two in my huntin’-shirt, and two had gone off with my hoss; an’ I knowed that when the time come I could get up a nice little fight for the Greasers.

“There war only two women in the house, an’ they seemed mighty glad to see him, an’ sot out a cheer for him; but they scowled at me, an’ left me to stand up. But that didn’t trouble me none, for I helped myself to a seat, an’ listened to what my guide war sayin’ to ’em. He war mighty perlite, an’ talked an’ laughed, an’ told the women as how he war goin’ to rub me out as soon as his men come; an’ then he war goin’ to pitch into Cap’n Morgan, who war out scoutin’ with his company, an’ had camped a little piece back in the mountains.

“It war the kurnel’s order that I should see him as we passed through the mountains, an’ send him to Monterey to onct, afore the Mexikins could ketch him. But my rascally guide had heered the order, an’ had led me out o’ my way, so that I shouldn’t see him. I listened with both my ears, an’ arter I had heered all the rascal’s plans, which were purty nicely laid out for a boy, I made up my mind that he would be a leetle disappointed when he tried to ketch Cap’n Morgan.

“In a little while the man that had tuk charge o’ the gen’ral’s hoss come in, an’ I soon found out that he war the man that war expected to do the business of cuttin’ my throat. But the gen’ral told him not to try it till midnight, when he would have plenty of men to back him up. This showed me that, brave as the young Greaser war when leadin’ his men, he didn’t like the idee o’ pitchin’ into an American single-handed. I guess he knowed by my looks that I could do some purty good fightin’.

“Arter eatin’ a hearty supper, an’ smokin’ a cigar with the gen’ral, I wrapped myself up in my blanket, which I had tuk from my saddle afore lettin’ my hoss go, an’ laid myself away in one corner of the room. The Mexikins didn’t like this, an’ one o’ the women made me understand by signs that there war a bed for me up stairs. But I thought that my chances for escape would be much better where I war; so I motioned her to go away, an’ pretended to go to sleep. The gen’ral an’ his man had a long talk about it, an’ I expected every minit to hear him tell the feller to shoot me. If he had, it would have been the signal for his own death, for I had both my revolvers under my blanket. But no sich order war given, an’ finally the gen’ral, arter tellin’ the man to keep a good watch on me, went into another room an’ went to bed, an’ his man stretched himself out on his cloak, right afore the door.

“Wal, I waited about two hours for him to go to sleep, an’ then made up my mind that I might as well be travelin’. So I throwed off my blanket an’ war risin’ to my feet, when ‘bang’ went the feller’s pistol, an’ the bullet whizzed by my head an’ went into the wall. I warn’t more’n ten feet from him, an’ I’ll be blamed if he didn’t miss me. The next minit I had him by the throat, an’ a blow from the butt of one o’ my six-shooters done the work for him. I dragged him away from the door, jumped down the steps, an’ made tracks through the garden.

“The night war purty dark, but I knowed which way to go to get out o’ the yard, which war surrounded by a palin’ eight foot high. You’d better believe I run some; but I hadn’t gone twenty yards from the house afore I run slap agin somebody. I thought at first that it war the gen’ral, an’ I muzzled him. ‘Carrajo! what does this mean?’ said the Mexikin, in Spanish. As soon as I heered his voice, I knowed that he warn’t the feller I wanted; most likely he war one o’ the men the gen’ral had been expectin’; so I give him a settler with my knife, an’ tuk to my heels agin.

“The pistol that the Mexikin had fired in the house had set the women a goin’; an’, when I reached the fence, I heered ’em yellin’ an’ wailin’ over the feller I had knocked down. I didn’t stop to listen to ’em, but jumped over into the field where my hoss war, an’ commenced whistlin’ for him. I thought he war a long while a coming an’ I ran along whistlin’, an’ wonderin’ where he had gone to. Purty soon I heered his whinny, an’ see him comin’ toward me like mad; an’ right behind him war three or four Mexikins, with their lassoes all ready to ketch him. But my hoss war leavin’ ’em behind fast; for the way he could climb over the ground when he onct made up his mind to run, war a caution to them Greasers. He come right up to me, an’ in a minit I war on his back.

“I now felt safe. The first thing I did war to pull out my huntin’-knife an’ fasten it to my wrist with a piece o’ buckskin; then, drawin’ one o’ my revolvers, I turned in my saddle, an’ thought I would stir up the Greasers a little, when all to onct somethin’ struck me in the face like a club, an’ I war lifted from my saddle clean as a whistle, and the next minit I war bumpin’ an’ draggin’ over the ground in a mighty onpleasant kind of a way. One o’ the Greasers had slipped his lasso over me, an’ war pullin’ me along as fast as his hoss could travel. I fell right flat on my face, an’ every step the Greaser’s hoss tuk plowed my nose in the ground, an’ my eyes war so full o’ dirt an’ blood that I could scarcely see.

“But I war not quite so fast as the Greaser had thought for. The lasso hadn’t gone down round my neck, but had ketched jest above my chin. I hadn’t never been in sich a mighty onpleasant fix afore, but I warn’t long in gettin’ my wits about me. Reachin’ up with my huntin’-knife, I made a slash at the lasso, an’ the next minit wor standin’ on my feet agin. I had hung onto my revolver, an’, drawin’ a bead on the Greaser that had ketched me, I tumbled him from his saddle in a twinklin’. My hoss hadn’t run an inch arter I war pulled off his back, an’ I war soon in the saddle agin.

“I knowed I war safe now, for, as I galloped over the field, I see the Greasers travelin’ down the road as though Gen’ral Taylor’s army war arter ’em. They war three to my one, but didn’t think themselves a match for a single American.”

CHAPTER XV

Caught at Last

“ BUT that isn’t all the story,” said the trapper, again filling his pipe. “As soon as the Greasers had got out o’ sight, I galloped back toward the road an’ tuk the back track, intendin’ to find Cap’n Morgan, an’ tell him that the Mexikins were kalkerlatin’ on ketchin’ him, an’ then go on with my dispatches.

“I had paid purty good attention to what the gen’ral had told the women, an’ I knowed exactly what road to take to find the cap’n’s camp; an’ you’d better believe I rid some. Purty soon some one yelled out:

“‘Who goes there?’

“‘Friend!’ I shouted, ’an’ I want to see Cap’n Morgan to onct. I’ve got some news for him.’

“You’d better believe the ole cap’n opened his eyes when I told him my story; an’ arter furnishin’ me with a fresh hoss – the best one in the camp – he set to work gettin’ ready for the Greasers. I didn’t much like the idee o’ startin’ out agin, for I didn’t know the short cuts through the country as well as I ought to, an’ the cap’n had no guide to send with me. But I knowed that them letters must be in Alamo by night, an’ I shouldn’t ever be able to look ole Bill Lawson in the face agin if I didn’t obey my orders; so, arter biddin’ the boys good-by, an’ wishin’ ’em good luck in fightin’ the Mexikins, I set out.

“I did plenty of doublin’ an’ twistin’ to get clear o’ the Greasers, for I met ’em about half way atween the mountains an’ the house where we had stopped, goin’ up to ketch the cap’n. They war in high spirits, but when they come down agin, about two hours arterward, they were runnin’ like white-heads, an’ the Texas boys were close at their heels.