“Thanks, but I don’t intend to catch one.”
“The dickens you don’t! And why not?”
“Because I don’t need a horse.”
“But a real frontiersman never asks whether he needs a horse or not.”
“Now look here, Sam; only yesterday you were speaking of the brutal way the white men, though they do not need meat, kill the buffaloes in masses, depriving the Indians of their food. We agreed that was a crime against beasts and men.”
“Assuredly.”
“This is a similar case. I should do wrong to rob one of these glorious fellows of his freedom unless I needed a horse.”
“That’s well said, young man; bravely said. Any man, any Christian worth calling so, would feel thus; but who said anything about robbing him of his freedom? Just put your education in lasso-throwing to the proof, that’s all.”
“That’s a different thing; I’ll do that.”
“All right; and I’ll use one in earnest, for I do need a horse. I’ve often told you, and now I’ll say again: Sit strong in your saddle, control your horse well when you feel the lasso tighten, and pull; for if you don’t you’ll be unseated, and the mustang will gallop off, taking your horse and lasso with him. Then you’ll lose your mount and be, like me, only a common foot-soldier.”