They groped their way to the stable and went in. There were some animals standing at the manger, but evidently not their horses. What could they be? Had the rogues been trying to cheat them, by putting these strange nondescripts into their place?
They led them forth into the gray of the morning, and then, such a trio as met their gaze!
There were the original bodies, it is true, but where were their manes and tails? A scrubby, picketty ridge along the neck, and a bare stump projecting behind were all that remained of the flowing honors with which they had come gallivanting down to “bear away the bell” at Hickory Creek, or, in the emphatic language of the country, “to take the rag off the bush.”
Gholson sat down on a log and cried outright. Medard took the matter more philosophically—the horse was none of his—it was Lieut. Foster’s.
Robert characteristically looked around to see whom he could knock down on the occasion, but there was no one visible on whom to wreak their vengeance.
The bumpkins had stolen away, and in some safe, quiet nook, were snugly enjoying their triumph, and doubtless the deceitful fair ones were, by this time, sharing their mirth and exultation.
The unlucky gallants mounted their steeds, and set their faces homeward. Never was there a more crestfallen and sorry-looking cavalcade. The poor horses seemed to realize that they had met the same treatment as the messengers of King David at the hands of the evil-disposed Hanun. They hung their heads, and evidently wished that they could have “tarried at Jericho” for a season. Unfortunately there was in those days no back way by which they could steal in, unobserved. Across the prairie, in view of the whole community, must their approach be made, and to add to their confusion, in the rarity of stirring events, it was the custom of the whole settlement to turn out and welcome the arrival of any new-comer.
As hasty a retreat as possible was beaten, amid the shouts, the jeers, and the condolences of their acquaintances, and it is on record that these three young gentlemen were in no hurry to accept, at any future time, an invitation to partake of the festivities of Hickory Creek.