Antonio's skill in riding was extraordinary; it was all the same to him whether he had a bridle or not—whether he sat in a saddle or bare-backed; once on the animal's back, no rearing or kicking could throw him. I have often seen him go up to mules grazing on the prairie, and approach them quietly, lounging round them as if seeking something in the grass, till he was near enough to them, when with a spring he was on the back of one of them, and the terrified creature made all sorts of bounds and leaps to get rid of him. But it was all in vain. Antonio responded to the mule's efforts with his monstrous spurs, which he dug into its flanks at every volley, till he grew tired of riding, and sprang off again with the same lightness.
He also threw the lasso with a master hand. I have frequently seen him at full gallop catch a mule by the foot which I indicated. One day he lassoed by the fore leg a wild cow which had joined my milch kine on the prairie, hurled it to the ground, and so bound its four feet together that we dragged it along to the enclosure where my cows passed the night. Then we fastened it up to an old tree, and on the next morning Antonio leaped on its back, cut away the rope round its head, and galloped off into the prairie, where the cow leapt about as if mad. At last, after a lengthened contest, she threw herself on the ground; but Antonio stood by her side, gave her laughingly a cut with his whip, and the awfully terrified creature galloped away to the forest.
Between the fort and the mountain spring there were always a great number of wild horses, especially in the vicinity of a considerable elevation on the prairie, whose highest point was covered with a small very thick wood, where a white stallion resided with his harem. Owing to his beauty and noble blood, the Indians revered this animal with superstitious fear. The hunters had tried for years in vain to capture him, and the bards of America had raised him to immortality in their ballads and narrations. Very numerous are the wondrous tales which spread at that day about the noble animal over the continent of America, and even distant Europe. He was described in them as "the star of the prairie," as "the light of the steppe," or "the white spirit of the desert." While his titles varied so, the statements as to the position of his kingdom varied equally. But all these were merely traditions of the hunters of the Far West, the existence of the horse was still half fabulous, and I believe that I am the only man capable of saying anything on the subject from personal observation.
I have seen and admired this horse a countless number of times, as my hunts so frequently passed in his region, and quite as often I have yearned to possess, and revolved the means to get, him into my power. This was one of the reasons why I took Antonio into my service, as through him alone I had a prospect of attaining my wish. I have frequently crawled up to the animal for miles through the tall grass with the utmost exertions, and lain down on a small mound near him, with the resolution of creasing him, as the hunters call it—that is to say, sending a ball through the skin of a horse's neck, upon which it falls as if struck dead, and you have time to hobble it before it recovers. But when I raised the rifle on the noble creature, and had my finger on the trigger, it seemed to me to be murder, and I could never make up my mind to fire. I have often ridden up to him, and, so soon as he noticed me, he came toward me, proudly raising his graceful head in the air, with his white silky tail erect, and with a coat as white and tender as the finest alabaster or the plumage of the silver heron, with whose flight I have often seen him compete. He frequently came within fifty yards of me, looking round pretty often at his flying harem, then stopped and snorted through his dilated purple nostrils; then he trotted round me, and would fly like an arrow over the grass to his friends, at such a pace that no rider in the world would have made the attempt to catch him up.
In the past winter I went to his domain with the intention of capturing one of his children, and gave one of my men who accompanied me my rifle and revolver, in order to make myself as light as possible. I had got no great distance from the troop, ere the stallion noticed me, and when the others fled, he as usual trotted toward me. I gave Czar his head, and galloped towards him. The wild stallion reared, then turned, and dashed after his troop and past it, in order to assume the leadership. At the end of five miles I caught up the troop again, which consisted of about fifty head, and selected an iron-grey mare with black mane and tail, which appeared to be between a two and three-year old.
Had I possessed any great skill in using the lasso, I was near enough to the mare to noose her; but as it was I could only take advantage of my horse's greater endurance, and remained close behind the troop, up hill and down dale, while the stallion flew from one side to the other, as if encouraging his relatives to persevere, and this race was merely play to him. The animals became covered with foam, their breathing grew gradually shorter, and several left the ranks on either side, in order to seek safety in an altered direction.
At last only four old mares and the iron-grey followed the stallion, who as yet displayed no signs of fatigue; when suddenly the grey turned off into a hollow, fell into a walk, and at last stopped; so that I could ride up and throw the lasso over her head. She was so exhausted that she could hardly breathe, and stood motionless, while the perspiration ran down her in torrents. It was nearly a quarter of an hour ere she so far recovered as to be able to struggle against the fetters laid on her. The noose round her neck tightened; she fell to the ground, trembling all over; and I leapt from my horse to open the noose, before she was quite throttled. My companion now came up, hobbled his own horse and Czar, and helped me to convince the mare by repeated strangulation, that she must yield to her captivity: we made a halter out of a second lasso, while still keeping the noose round her neck, and I dragged her after my horse, while my companion urged her on. We thus reached home in the evening; and in a few weeks the mare was so tame that she could be treated precisely like my other horses: she was handsomely built, displayed all the signs of Arab blood, and became one of my best horses.
As I said, the possibility of capturing this stallion—the pride of the western deserts—was the reason of my engaging Antonio; and we at once set about our preparations to carry out the task. I owned a thorough-bred mare, Fancy, who belonged to the best blood that ever ran on American soil. Her sire was the renowned Waggoner, who was never beaten in speed either north or south, and for fourteen years won all the great stakes at American races. Her dam, Blossom, was an English thoroughbred, and had been imported to the United States from England: she won all the stakes she was entered for in the Southern States, and was purchased by one of the first breeders for a very large sum, that he might become owner of her noble progeny. Fancy, then, as regards breed, was as fine and noble as any horse that ever trod an American course, and defeated all her rivals until I purchased her. I bought her as a four-year old when I bade farewell to civilization, and took her with me into the desert, where I frequently rode her, when I went out into the prairie with greyhounds to hunt deer or kill wolves. On my ordinary hunting trips, however, she could not take the place of Czar or the cream-colour, as she was not so attached to me by constant riding or so trained and familiar with a thousand dangers as they were.
The mare was now treated with very great attention, both as regards food, and cleanliness, and exercise; she had no more grass, and the corn given her was previously sifted. She was ridden every morning by Antonio, and the distance she had to gallop was daily increased. Then she was led about for half an hour, and when brought back to her stall rubbed down till she was quite dry and cool. Toward evening she was taken out again for half an hour's walk, and before she went to rest had a douche or a swim in the river. In a fortnight she hardly turned a hair after galloping several miles; she had grown thinner, but her flesh was firmer, and her golden-brown hair so fine that every vein could be traced under the skin. In the meanwhile, Antonio had been practising with the lasso, and had horribly tormented my mules with this disagreeable instrument.
The preparations lasted three weeks; after which, on a cool morning, we left the fort: Antonio riding a mule and leading Fancy, one of my colonists on the cream-colour, and I on Czar—in order to seek the stallion, and, if possible, deprive him of liberty. It was one of those days—not rare in our country—when the sky is covered with a thin stratum of clouds, which deprive it of its glorious azure, and which, though it does not conceal the sun, breaks the power of its beams. At the same time there was a breeze, so that the day was more like autumn than summer. We rode down the river, and soon saw the height emerge from the prairie, in whose vicinity the stallion usually had his head-quarters. Our horses were very active; Czar coquetted by the side of his lady friend, Fancy, in his most elegant prancing movements; shook his bit, and snorted through his moist nostrils; while turning his dark large eyes toward the lady, Fancy, conscious of her noble breed, walked delicately along, and carefully selected the footpaths.