Jack the Young Trapper: An Eastern Boy's Fur Hunting in the Rocky Mountains

by George Bird Grinnell

When Jack arose the next morning and looked out of the window on the little valley below the house, and upon the side of the mountain, he saw the ground covered with snow, which glistened in the brilliant sunshine. It did not take him long to get into his clothes, and he rushed through the house and out the kitchen door and down toward the corral. Over the hills beyond the barn a number of horses were galloping, with streaming manes and tails, and behind them was Joe, zig-zagging back and forth, occasionally snapping forward the end of his trailing rope to hurry up the laggards. It was a good sight—one that Jack had not seen for a couple of years—and he ran on down toward the corral, but suddenly a thought struck him, and he stopped, turned, and started back to the house.

When he burst into the kitchen again, he said, "Oh, Mrs. Carter, please give me a couple of lumps of sugar for Pawnee; I want to see if the old horse will know me, and whether he does or not, I want to be friends with him." He ran back into the sitting room and got the old whistle which he had taught his horse to obey, and put it in his pocket. Seizing the sugar which Mrs. Carter had put on the table, he hurried down to the corral. When he got there, the horses for the day's riding were being caught up, and he entered. He had long ago lost the old fear that he had had as a little fellow, that the frightened horses would run over and trample him. Stepping out into the middle of the corral, he looked at the bunch of twenty or thirty horses which stood there sleepily, as long as they were undisturbed, but were quick enough to move about and try to dodge the rope when it was thrown at them. By this time the men had caught all their horses, and Joe walked over to the gate, ready to open it as soon as Jack had caught his. Jack called to him, "Say! wait a minute, Joe; I want to try an experiment;" and he put the whistle to his lips and blew the old call that he had been accustomed to use for Pawnee. The horse was standing partly hidden by two or three others, but the moment the whistle blew he raised his head, and turned and looked at Jack. Jack stood perfectly still for a moment or two, and then blew the whistle once more, and the horse stepped forward over toward Jack, with his head up, his ears thrust forward, and an expression of great interest on his countenance. Again Jack blew the whistle, and this time he reached out his hand toward the horse, which again took three or four steps and stopped only a few feet from Jack, reaching out his nose to Jack's hand, as if trying to smell it. Jack put his hand into his pocket and laid a lump of sugar in his palm, and whistled once more, and the horse stepped forward and took the sugar, and as he crunched it in his teeth, stepped forward again, so that his head was close to Jack's shoulder.

Jack patted him very gently, and then slipped the rope over his neck and knotted it and began to rub the horse's head and ears. Gradually—as it seemed to Jack—the horse's memory awakened, and after a few moments Jack felt quite confident that Pawnee recognized him and was glad to see him. The horse rubbed his head vigorously against Jack's shoulder, and seemed to enjoy being petted.

As their old friendship seemed to be resumed, Jack called to Joe to open the gate, and after he had done so the horses walked out. Some of them had already shed their winter coats, but on others the long hair hung down three or four inches below their necks and bellies. The dust and dirt of the corral was full of shed hair, and great wads of it were lying about everywhere.

Just as Jack started out with Pawnee, to take him to the barn, Hugh passed by and said, "Does he know you, son?"

"I really think he does, Hugh," said Jack. "At first he didn't, though he remembered the whistle, and recognized the sugar when I held it out to him, but now I believe he knows who I am. It's pretty hard on him to have to remember me, for I expect I have changed more or less in appearance every year, and you know it's two years now since I have seen the old horse."

"Yes," said Hugh; "I don't wonder that he was a little slow to know you, but after all, a horse has a long memory, and inside of twenty-four hours it will all come back to him. I reckon that to-morrow he will likely come right up to you in the corral or on the prairie."

"He's fat and in fine condition, isn't he, Hugh? He looks to me to be in the bulliest kind of order for a trip."

"Lord, yes," said Hugh, "he's fat enough, for I don't think he has done anything for two years. Your uncle would not let him be ridden last year, he was so much afraid that something might happen to him. I shouldn't be a little bit surprised if he would kick and crowhop quite a little when you first get on him. I don't believe he would really pitch, but he's likely to pretend to. He looks fatter than he really is, though of course he's fat enough," the old man went on, "but that long winter coat of his makes him look as round as a ball."

"Yes," assented Jack, "it does, of course; and what tremendous coats these horses get in this country, don't they?"