The manner of betting at an Indian race differs somewhat from affairs of the kind among white men. One man is selected as a stake-holder for all moneys. Horses that are wagered are tied together and put under care of Indian boys. Coats, blankets, saddles, pistols, knives, and all kind of personal effects, are thrown into a common heap and tied together.
As the starting-hour approaches, two judges are elected,—one white man and one Indian. But two are required, since the horses run out, turn the stake, and come back to the starting-point. The first horse to get home is winner. No account is made of the start, each party depending on his shrewdness to get the better in this part of the race.
Indians are enthusiastic gamblers, and have a certain kind of pride, and to do them justice, honor,
as well, in conducting their races. No disputes ever arise among themselves, and seldom with white men, growing out of misunderstandings, either about starting or the outcome. They take sides with their own people always, and bet, when the chances are against them, from pride.
The prevailing idea that they are always cool and stoical is not correct. They become very much excited at horse-races, but not generally until the race begins. While the preliminaries are being arranged, they are serious, even solemn-looking fellows, and with great dignity come up with the money to bet. “Capable of dissembling,” I should think they were, from the cool face of How-lish-wam-po, when the money is being counted out by the hundreds, in twenty-dollar gold-pieces,—not a few, but handfuls of twenties. One could not have detected the slightest twinkle in his eye, or other sign that he knew that Joe Crabb had stolen his horse, and run him secretly. Cool, calm, earnest as if he were saying mass, this chieftain came up and handed over his money to the stake-holder, while numerous bets were being arranged between the other Indians and white men. Horses were wagered, and tied together, and led away. Many a fellow had brought extras with him, for the express purpose of gambling, expecting of course to take home twice the number in the evening.
Crabb had confided his secret about his stolen run to a few friends, and advised them to go in, and win all the horses they wanted. There was no danger; he knew what he was talking about. He had the Indian’s horse’s speed by time, and also by trial.
This thing leaked out, and was communicated from one to another. Some pretty good men, who were not accustomed to betting, became anxious to win a pony or two, and laid wagers with the Indians.
The trick that Crabb had played was finally made known to How-lish-wam-po. He and his people were cooled down, and seemed anxious to have the race come off before more betting was done.
This made the white men more anxious, and they urged, boasted, and ridiculed, until, in manifest desperation, the Indians began to bet again, and the noble white man generously took advantage of the Indian’s hot blood, and forced him to make many bets that he appeared to shun.
The horses were brought out to start, and while the imported horse of Crabb’s looked every inch a racer, the other stood with head down, a rough-haired, uncouth brute, that appeared then to be a cross between ox and horse.