“Wal, strengers, the critter I rode wur a young mustang colt, about half-broke. I had bought him from a Mexikin at Bent’s only the week afore, and it wur his fust journey, leastwise with me. Of coorse I had him on the lariat; but up to this time I had kept the eend o’ the rope in my hand, because I had that same day lost my picket pin; an’ thinkin’ as I wan’t agoin’ to sleep, I mout as well hold on to it.
“By ’m by, however, I begun to feel drowsy. The fire ’atween my legs promised to keep me from freezin’, an’ I thort I mout as well take a nap. So I tied the lariat round my ankles, sunk my head atween my knees, an’ in the twinklin’ o’ a goat’s tail I wur sound. I jest noticed as I wur goin’ off, that the mustang wur out some yards, nibbling away at the dry grass o’ the parairy.
“I guess I must a slep about an hour, or tharabouts—I won’t be sartint how long. I only know that I didn’t wake o’ my own accord. I wur awoke; an’ when I did awoke, I still thort I wur a-dreamin’. It would a been a rough dream; but unfort’nately for me, it wan’t a dream, but a jenwine reality.
“At fust, I cudn’t make out what wur the matter wi’ me, no how; an’ then I thort I wur in the hands o’ the Injuns, who were draggin’ me over the parairy; an’ sure enough I wur a draggin’ that a way, though not by Injuns. Once or twice I lay still for jest a second or two, an’ then away I went agin, trailin’ and bumpin’ over the ground, as if I had been tied to the tail o’ a gallopin’ hoss. All the while there wur a yellin’ in my ears as if all the cats an’ dogs of creation were arter me.
“Wal, it wur some time afore I compre’nded what all this rough usage meant. I did at last. The pull upon my ankles gave me the idea. It wur the lariat that wur round them. My mustang had stampedoed, and wur draggin’ me at full gallop acrosst the parairy!
“The barkin’, an’ howlin’, an’ yelpin’ I heerd, wur a pack o’ parairy-wolves. Half-famished, they had attacked the mustang, and started him.
“All this kim into my mind at once. You’ll say it wur easy to lay hold on the rope, an’ stop the hoss. So it mout appear; but I kin tell you that it ain’t so easy a thing. It wan’t so to me. My ankles wur in a noose, an’ wur drawed clost together. Of coorse, while I wur movin’ along, I couldn’t get to my feet; an’ whenever the mustang kim to a halt, an’ I had half gathered myself, afore I laid reach the rope, away went the critter agin, flingin’ me to the ground at full length. Another thing hindered me. Afore goin’ to sleep, I had put my blanket on Mexikin-fashion—that is, wi’ my head through a slit in the centre—an’ as the drag begun, the blanket flopped about my face, an’ half-smothered me. Prehaps, however, an’ I thort so arterwurd, that blanket saved me many a scratch, although it bamfoozled me a good bit.
“I got the blanket off at last, arter I had made about a mile, I reckon, and then for the fust time I could see about me. Such a sight! The moon wur up, an’ I kud see that the ground wur white with snow. It had snowed while I wur asleep; but that wan’t the sight—the sight war, that clost up an’ around me the hul parairy wur kivered with wolves—cussed parairy-wolves! I kud see their long tongues lollin’ out, an’ the smoke steamin’ from their open mouths.
“Bein’ now no longer hampered by the blanket, I made the best use I could o’ my arms. Twice I got hold o’ the lariat, but afore I kud set myself to pull up the runnin’ hoss, it wur jerked out o’ my hand agin.
“Somehow or other, I had got clutch o’ my bowie, and at the next opportunity I made a cut at the rope, and heerd the clean ‘snig’ o’ the knife. Arter that I lay quiet on the parairy, an’ I b’lieve I kinder sort o’ fainted.