In the brush

by Hamilton W. Pierson

When I dismounted, she understood that her long day's journey was ended, and knew where she was going as well as the servant did. When mounted, she would start with a fleet pace that was almost as gentle in its movements as the rocking of a cradle; which would make the rider roll the white of his eyes with the supremest African delight. Very often I have seen them turn their faces, beaming with satisfaction, and cast back furtive glances upon groups of young Africans that were gazing after them with an admiration that was only equaled by their envy of the rider's happy lot. Before reaching the stable a friendship, if not affection, was established that insured the most liberal allowance of "fodder" and corn, and the most thorough currying, brushing, and care. I have no doubt that on many such occasions they promised themselves a pleasant stolen night-ride, to visit friends on some near or remote plantation, and that they did not forget or fail to make good their promises. When I sometimes had occasion to protract my stay for several days, it was amusing to listen to the frequent applications from young Africa to ride her to the brook and water her. They were intensely solicitous that she should not fail to get water—or themselves rides! At all places, whether on cultivated plantations or deep in the Brush, whether she was cared for by black or white, she received the same kind attention. Hence she was always in the best order and condition—always able and ready to take me the longest journeys, through any amount of mud and mire, and over the roughest roads, wherever it was necessary for me to go. I am sure that the people were the more glad to see me on her account. My honored instructor, the venerable President Nott, of Union College, in his lectures on the "Beautiful," used to say:

"Young gentlemen, undoubtedly the two most beautiful objects in nature are a beautiful horse and a beautiful lady. I hope you will not think me ungallant in putting the horse before the lady." I gratified the love of the beautiful in a fine horse, and so won their esteem and love. But I was often as much surprised and gratified at her behavior in her travels with me upon Western steamboats as upon land. On one occasion I took her on board a large New Orleans steamer with a deck-load of mules, horses, sheep, etc., and rode some two hundred miles. I reached the place of my destination about midnight, and was obliged to land at that hour. She was standing immediately back of the wheel-house, and on the side of the boat toward the shore. But the boat was so loaded that I was obliged to lead her a long distance around by the stern, past the heels of braying mules and bellowing cattle, to the point opposite the place from which I had started; then forward, crossing the boat immediately in front of the roaring wood-fires, which were on the same deck, and on to the bow, where I led her down the plank on to a large wharf-boat. I then led her the entire length of this boat, and down a long plank-way to the shore. And all this through the indescribable din and confusion made by mates and deck-hands in landing freight, passengers, and baggage, and the deafening screech of the whistle in blowing off steam. When I took her by the bits and said, "Come, Jenny," she placed her head against my shoulder and followed me all this long, crooked, noisy route, with the confidence of a child. I had led her on and off a great many noisy steamers, but that was the most notable instance of all.

But my Jenny had some other qualities which I should never have discovered had they not been made known to me by others. Elsewhere in this volume I have spoken at length of my visit to a celebrated watering-place, and of the numerous gamblers and other strange characters that I met there. It was in the midst of a very wild region. When I had arrived within a few hours' ride of the springs, I stopped to dine at a house of private entertainment. A large four-horse stage, loaded with passengers bound for the springs, soon drove up and stopped at the same house, which was the regular place of dining for the passengers. After dinner I rode on to the springs, keeping along the most of the way in company with the stage. My Jenny attracted very marked attention from the driver and passengers. The driver especially was profuse in his expressions of admiration. As I rode up to the hotel, the listless, lounging visitors, who were so deep in the Brush that they had very little to attract or interest them, regarded her gait and movements with general attention and delight. When I dismounted, a black boy was soon in my saddle, and my Jenny moved off to the stable with her usual fleetness and grace. I entered the hotel and registered my name, without any prefix or suffix to indicate my employment or profession. The weather was very hot, the roads very dusty, and after the fashion of the country I was at once furnished with water to wash. As I stood wiping myself, the stage-driver rushed into the room and up to me in great excitement and said:

"Mr. Pierson, will you allow your horse to run? The money is up and we'll have a race if you'll only allow her to run"—at the same time holding up and shaking in my face a mass of bills that were drawn through his fingers, after the fashion of gamblers in those parts. I was startled to hear my name pronounced in a strange place, and by a stranger, but in a moment bethought me that he had learned it by looking on the hotel-register. I was more startled by the strangeness of the proposition. As the servant stood with my saddle-bags on his arm, waiting to show me to my room, I answered perhaps a little too abruptly, "No, sir," and followed him to my room, to prepare for supper. When the supper-bell rang, and I stepped out of my room upon the piazza, a portly man of gentlemanly bearing, who had evidently taken his position there to wait for me, approached me pleasantly and said:

"I hope, sir, you will reconsider your decision and allow your mare to run. As soon as you rode up I offered to bet two hundred and fifty dollars that she would outrun anything here, and the money is up. Allow me to say that I am an old Virginian, and a judge of horses, and if you will let her run I am sure to win."

By this time I had entirely recovered my self-possession, and, bowing politely, I looked directly into his eyes and said:

"Do you think, sir, it will do for a Presbyterian clergyman to commence horse-racing so soon after reaching the Springs?"

He was as much startled as I had been—in fact, so startled that he could not say a word, and I left him without any reply, and went in to supper. When I returned from the dining-room I found him at the door, and he approached me in the most subdued and respectful manner and said:

"Allow me to speak to you again, sir. I wish to apologize, sir; I beg your pardon, sir; I assure you, sir, that nothing would induce me knowingly to insult a clergyman."

I responded, very pleasantly: