This was the first race that Lieutenant Parker and Carl, the Trailer, had ever engaged in, and if there had not been so much at stake they would have thoroughly enjoyed it. For miles they kept going at the top of their speed, and then, to Parker’s amazement, his horse fell behind and required constant spurring to make him keep up. After they had gone half the distance to the fort, Parker reluctantly drew rein and gave up the contest.
“That is one thing at which you can beat me,” said he. “I had no idea that that nag of yours could show so much lightness of foot.”
“It is always so when a fellow brings out Eastern horses to beat them,” said the guide. “You take a race of five miles, and the Eastern horse will beat; but you take a race of twenty miles, and it is safe to back the endurance of the pony.”
“Then I wouldn’t stand much of a show with the Sioux in a fair trial of speed,” said Parker.
“Not if you had any distance to go. More than one fellow has been hauled off his Eastern horse and killed within sight of his friends. I remember hearing some trappers talk about it at the time of the Custer massacre. One fellow, who had a nice horse, happened to get away from the hostiles, and took out across the plains at the top of his speed, followed by six or seven of the savages. The Indians were going to give up after a while, but all of a sudden they saw the officer pull out a pistol and put it to his own head. You see, he knew what his fate would be if captured. That is the only time I ever heard of an Eastern horse beating a pony.”
Lieutenant Parker was not very well pleased with such talk as this. It reminded him too much of what might be his own case if he ever got into a race with the Indians. Lieutenant Kidder and band, who had been overtaken and annihilated by some of the same Indians among whom he was going, had tried on American horses to escape the death they saw threatening them, but after a race of fifteen miles the ponies came up, and it was all over with them. He did not ask any more questions after that until his guide pointed out something on the top of a distant swell. He looked, and there were the walls of the fort in plain sight; and scarcely had this thought passed through his mind when he heard a voice directly in front of him saying:
“Halt! Who comes there?”
“An officer without the countersign,” replied Parker.
“Halt, officer. Dismount. Corporal of the guard!—Number 6.”
Lieutenant Parker and his guide dismounted, and in a few minutes the corporal came up, bringing a lantern to assist him in making out who the visitors were.