The Boy Hunters

by Mayne Reid

They had got within less than two hundred yards of where the hunters stood, but it was evident they intended coming no nearer. On the contrary, they showed symptoms of bearing off. At each fresh movement from a halt, they turned their heads for the prairie, and then came circling back again—as though they had not yet quite satisfied their curiosity.

During their last halt—or what Basil believed might be the last—he again cautioned his brothers to keep on to the butte, and quietly placing his foot in the stirrup, vaulted into the saddle. The movement caused the mustangs to start; but, before they could turn themselves, the young hunter had plied the spur, and made several springs towards them across the prairie. He looked not at the drove—he cared not which way they might go—his eye rested only on the white leader, and towards him he rode in full charge.

The latter, when he saw this sudden movement, stood for a moment, as if in surprise. Then giving a wild neigh—far different from any of the calls he had hitherto uttered—wheeled to the right, and led off in a gallop, the rest following at the top of their speed. As the rearmost came round upon the prairie, Basil was not a dozen yards from them; and in a few springs had got so close that he could easily have thrown his lasso over some of them. In turning, however, he was left far behind; but he soon recovered his distance, and spurred on, bearing slightly to one side of the drove. He did not wish to get in amongst them—as he believed that might be dangerous, and would only impede him. His object was to head the drove, or in some way to separate the leader from the others. This was what he wanted first; and to this task he bent himself with all his energy.

On flew the wild steeds straining themselves to their utmost speed. On followed the hunter,—apparently in reckless pursuit, but carefully guiding his horse as he rode. His lasso hung at his saddle-peak. He had not yet touched it—time enough for that.

On flew the wild horses, and closer followed the daring hunter, until miles of the prairie lay between him and the starting-point. In a few minutes he was no longer visible to those he had left behind.

But the small Andalusian steeds were no match for the Godolphin Arab. The herd had changed its shape. The horses no longer ran in a body, but in a long string—each taking place according to his speed—and far in advance of all, like a meteor, glanced the snow-white leader.

The hindmost were soon passed—each swerving off from the track, as soon as he saw himself headed by the great dark horse that carried the strange and dreaded object upon his back. One by one they were passed, until Black Hawk had forged ahead of the whole drove; and his rider now saw nothing before him but the white steed, the green prairie, and the blue sky. He looked not back. Had he done so, he would have seen the mustangs scattering in every direction over the plain. But he looked not back. All that he now cared for was before him; and he plied the spur freshly and galloped on.

He had no need to use the spur. Black Hawk seemed to think that his credit rested upon the result, and the faithful brute was doing his best. On the other hand, the wild horse felt that his life, or at least his freedom, depended upon it, and this was enough to urge him to his utmost. Both flew like the wind—pursuer and pursued.

As they parted from the herd, there was not more than three hundred yards between them; and they must have passed over some miles afterwards, before this distance was greatly lessened. Their line of flight was as straight as an arrow; and from this it was evident that the mustang usually trusted to his hoofs to save him from his enemies.

In a race like this, however, the pursuer has the advantage of the pursued. The latter, always anxious, is constrained to look back; and is, therefore, less sure of the ground that lies before. He loses his proper attitude for speed, and is besides in danger of stumbling. So it was with the wild horse. He did not stumble—he was too sure of foot for that—but his head was occasionally thrown to one side, until his large dark eye commanded a view of his enemy behind him. This, of course, to some extent, retarded him. It was only at these moments that Basil could gain upon him; and the proofs he thus gave of his superior powers, only rendered the latter the more eager to capture and possess him.