“Wal, now, that ar’ will be a hard thing to do, youngsters,” replied the trapper, coiling up his lasso, and hanging it on the horn of his saddle; “a mighty hard thing to do. Them ar’ kings ar’ allers the swiftest hosses in the drove; an’ it aint every ole buffaler hunter that can keep up with ’em.”
Archie was astonished to hear the trapper speak so lightly of Sleepy Sam, a horse that had several times proved himself to be possessed of great speed; but Dick hastened to explain.
“I aint sayin’ nothin’ ag’in your hoss, little one, no more’n I am ag’in Bob’s. But if you had chased wild hosses as often as I have, you would know that a hoss can beat any thing in a wagon train, an’ yet have no bisness with the king of a drove. I won’t say that we’ll ketch that gray fur you, Frank, but we’ll try hard, an’ if he is too fast fur us, we’ll lasso one of the others, sartin. We’ll bring back somethin’ fur you to ride.”
By this time the trappers were ready for the start. Mr. Winters and the boys accompanied them to the edge of the prairie, and there Bob and Dick left them, after repeatedly assuring Frank that it was not their intention to return empty-handed.
When they had disappeared, Mr. Winters and the boys seated themselves on the ground, and for nearly an hour, waited and listened for the sound of the pursuit. Suddenly a single horse appeared upon the summit of a distant swell, and facing about, stood as if regarding some object that had excited his curiosity. Then came another, and another, and in a moment more the entire drove appeared, running at the top of their speed. One minute elapsed—two—three—and then two more horses suddenly arose over the swell, and followed swiftly after the drove. The chase had begun in earnest. The boys were surprised, and not a little discouraged, to see the trappers so far behind. But still they had great confidence in them, and Frank was already reconciled to the loss of his horse, and confident that he would own another before he went to sleep that night. The chase was tending directly toward the mountains, and it presented a sight the boys would have been loth to miss. Nearer and nearer came the wild steeds, prancing and snorting, and looking back at the strange objects that were pursuing them. Presently, among the foremost ones, the boys discovered the gray king. He moved over the ground as lightly as if he had been furnished with wings, and as Frank watched his movements, he reluctantly came to the conclusion that if his endurance was as great as his speed, he must content himself with one of the common horses of the drove. They continued to advance until they came within a quarter of a mile of the willows, when they seemed, for the first time, to discover that their retreat in that direction was cut off by the mountains. This appeared to confuse and frighten them. The foremost ones slackened their speed, but seeing their pursuers close behind them, the drove suddenly divided, part of the horses turning one way, and the rest going the other. The trappers had kept their eyes on the king, and, when he turned, they singled him out from the others, and followed him with increased speed. The gray mustang made an exhibition of his powers that was truly surprising; but the trappers took a “short cut” on him, and gained so rapidly that Frank’s hopes rose again. Sleepy Sam was running splendidly; but, to the surprise of all, old Bob’s ungainly, raw-boned horse, in answer to a yell from his rider, bounded past him. All this happened in much less time than we have taken to describe it. The horses moved with wonderful rapidity, and, in a very few moments after the drove divided, the gray king and the trappers were out of sight behind the swells, and all sounds of the chase had died away in the distance.
Mr. Winters then returned to the camp, while the excited boys again seated themselves on the ground, and waited long and impatiently for the trapper’s return. The hours slowly wore away, and, finally, the sun went down, but still no signs of the horsemen. It soon began to grow dark, and the boys were obliged to return to the wagon. Frank prepared supper that evening, but their appetites must have gone off with the gray mustang, for they ate but little. They sat beside the fire until midnight, straining their ears to catch the first sounds of the trapper’s return; but nothing but the occasional howl of a wolf broke the stillness; and, finally, growing tired of watching, they spread their blankets and went to sleep. At the first peep of day they were again stirring, and, after a hasty breakfast, they stationed themselves in the edge of the willows, to await the return of the horsemen. In about two hours their patience was rewarded by the discovery of several objects moving along the summit of a distant swell. As they approached, the boys recognized the trappers, and in half an hour they were within speaking distance. Could Frank believe his eyes? Was Dick really riding the gray king? It was a horse that bore a strong resemblance to him, and Frank felt confident that the animal he had so much admired, was really his own. Nor was he deceived; for, as they came up, Dick exclaimed:
“Here we ar’, youngsters. We’ve got him, sure as shootin’. Easy thar,” he continued, as the delighted boys walked slowly around him, admiring his fine points. “If you know any thing you’ll keep cl’ar of his heels. He aint very good natur’d.”
This was very evident; for the trapper had scarcely spoken before the mustang began to show his temper. He danced about in the most lively manner; first rearing up almost straight in the air, and then kicking with both hind feet. His plunges were furious and desperate, and the boys fully expected to see the trapper unseated. But the latter, although he had no saddle—that being a contrivance he despised—and only had his lasso twisted around the gray’s lower jaw, for a bridle, kept the animal completely under his control, and rode him into the camp in triumph.
“The critter led us ’bout as long an’ as lively a race as we ever run,” said Dick, after the gray had been securely fastened to a tree. “An’ it war only by accident that we ketched him. I don’t reckon I am sayin’ too much when I say that I never seed a hoss run faster nor hold out better nor he did—not even the black mustang. We went ’round on the other side of the drove afore we started ’em, on purpose to make ’em run t’wards the mountains. That give you a good sight of somethin’ you never seed afore, an’ by it we gained on the gray when he turned. Wal, he kept ahead of us for ten or twelve miles, gainin’ on us all the while, fur when he seed that we war arter him in ’arnest, the way he did climb over the prairy war a purty thing to look at—when, all to onct, we found ourselves in a prairy-dog’s nest. The prairy, as far as a feller could see, war like a honey-comb. I ’spected every minit that my hoss would break through, an’ at last he did. But the gray broke in fust—went down clean to the top of his legs, an’ couldn’t git out. I war sartin we had him, an’ war jest goin’ to throw my lasso, when my hoss went in, an’ kerchunk I went on the ground. But ole Bob war on hand, an’ he ketched him. We told you, Frank, that we’d put you on horseback ag’in, an’ now that we’ve done it, I don’t reckon you’ll lose this animal by campin’ with Black Bill.”