In the evening he would return as usual, driving his ill-looking pack before him, and these, after being enclosed for a short time, would be again turned out. On my suggesting that his animals seemed to cause him more trouble than they were worth, he at once elucidated the mystery.
It appeared that he had received these scarecrows from time to time in payment of bad debts, contracted for surveys of the surrounding farms; they cost nothing to keep, as they lived on the wild oats, and the reason he turned them out and brought them home each day, was for the pleasure of hunting and catching them with the lasso when he could. I soon joined him in this diversion, and the sport was most exciting. His band, as soon as they saw us coming, would have an appearance similar to this:—
They would stand in a crowd together, looking at us out of the corners of their eyes; then as we approached they would go over the hills and gulches, whilst we rode after them, shouting and heading them back whenever we could.
After two or three hours of this exercise, they would allow themselves to be driven without much trouble into Rowe’s corral. I believe they liked the sport; whether or no, they got it every day, and as it was all they had to do, they were better off than most of their race. In fact, the Old Soldier did the same work with me on his back, and liked it so much that I could not hold him at last when once he got sight of these scarecrows. He tried to catch them one day when in the gig, because they suddenly appeared in sight, and if it had not been for a deep gulch that brought us all up with a smash, I believe he would have “corralled� them on his own account.
Rowe had an Indian pony of great power and endurance; it was named “Chocktaw,� after the American Indian tribe, to which of right it belonged. He had a head like a wedge of wood, and although tolerably quiet under a severe Spanish bit, he had the habit of never taking his eyes off you. He was always suspicious, if you walked round him, and would follow you with his wild colt’s eye.
Chocktaw combined the sure-footedness of the mule, with the speed of the horse, and the capability of the donkey of living and doing well upon comparatively nothing, which was so far fortunate for him as he was occasionally locked up and forgotten for a day or two, during which periods of trial he generally munched shavings, and upon being remembered and released became more suspicious than ever.
Chocktaw and the Old Soldier became fast friends, so much so, that the latter kicked other horses on Chocktaw’s account, and took him under his protection generally, even to the length of eating Chocktaw’s oats (which he got on Sundays), for fear, no doubt, they should disagree with his Indian stomach; whether this made him more suspicious or not, I don’t know, but Chocktaw never took his eyes off his friend for all their affection.
The unhappy Chocktaw is typical of a class of men who live continually in the torment of half-confirmed suspicions—innocents, who, stopping half-way in their study of the world, are ever doubting and fearing, yet never learning, force the lesson on them as you will;—“Chocktawsâ€� to whom “Old Soldiersâ€� are necessary—these latter cheating them, yet preventing others from doing so; finding brains for them; kicking other horses for them, but eating their oats as recompense. Unhappy then the Chocktaw who wriggles, as it were, in the half-consciousness of being outwitted, and torments himself with vain suspicions. Far more to be envied he who can clap his persecuting protector on the back, and own him to be “necessary but expensive;â€� his mind is at ease from that time forth; he can pay his bully as he does his income-tax, and get more for his money.
News was brought in one day that a band of elk had been seen near the place, and upon this the whole population turned out. Independently of the fact that I feared being shot by some of the party, among whom were several boys, armed with rifles, I knew that the Elk does were heavy at this season, and I had no mind to assist in a butchery. The drove was headed about nightfall in marshy ground, and about eighteen does were killed.