But there were two members of that hunt whose proceedings were not in exact accord with the habits and laws of the chase, as usually conducted on the Red River plains. These were the seaman Jenkins and Archie Sinclair.
A mutual attachment having sprung up between these two, they had arranged to keep together during the chase; and when the signal for attack was given by Dechamp, as before related, they had “set sail,” according to Jenkins, fairly well with the rest. But they had not gone more than a few hundred yards when the boy observed that his nautical friend was hauling at both reins furiously, as if desirous of stopping his horse. Having a gun in one hand he found the operation difficult.
Archie therefore reined in a little.
“Bad luck to it!” growled Jenkins, as his young friend drew near, “the jaws o’ this craft seem to be made o’ cast-iron, but I’ll bring him to if I should haul my arms out o’ the sockets. Heave-to, my lad! Maybe he’ll be willin’ to follow a good example.”
Archie pulled up, and, as the seaman had hoped, the hard-mouthed steed stopped, while the maddened buffalo and the almost as much maddened hunters went thundering on, and were soon far ahead of them.
“What’s wrong, Jenkins?” asked Archie, on seeing the sailor dismount.
“Not much, lad; only I want to take a haul at the main brace. Here, hold my gun a bit, like a good chap; the saddle, you see, ain’t all right, an’ if it was to slew round, you know, I’d be overboard in a jiffy. There, that’s all right. Now, we’ll up anchor, an’ off again. I know now that the right way to git on board is by the port side. When I started from Red River I was goin’ to climb up on the starboard side, but Dan Davidson kep’ me right—though he had a good laugh at me. All right now. Hand me the gun.”
“Do you mean to say, Jenkins, that you never got on a horse till you came to Red River?” asked Archie, with a laugh, as they galloped off in pursuit of the hunters, who were almost out of sight by that time.
“Well, you’ve no occasion to laugh, lad,” returned the seaman. “I’ve bin at sea ever since I was a small shaver, scarce half as long as a handspike, so I ain’t had many opportunities, d’ee see, for we don’t have cavalry at sea, as a rule—always exceptin’ the horse marines.
“Then I’m afraid you’ll find runnin’ the buffalo somewhat difficult,” returned the boy. “Not that I know anything about it myself, for this is the first time I’ve been out; an’ even now Dan won’t let me use a gun; but I’ve often heard the men talkin’ about it! an’ some o’ them have complained that they have found it uncommon difficult to load when at full gallop—specially when the horse is hard in the mouth.”