Standing in front of the door of the colonel’s head-quarters was a sleepy-looking sorrel pony, saddled and bridled. He looked very diminutive when contrasted with the heavy cavalry horse from which an orderly had just dismounted, and so light was his body and so slender his legs that it seemed as if an ordinary twelve-year-old boy would prove as heavy a load as he was able to carry. But to Oscar’s great surprise Big Thompson walked straight up to the pony and vaulted into the saddle, whereupon the little fellow’s head came up, his sleepy eyes opened, and, breaking at once into a gallop, he carried his heavy rider through the gate and down the hill out of sight.
Oscar watched him as long as he remained 28in view, and then broke out into a cheery laugh, in which the colonel heartily joined.
“That beats me!” exclaimed the boy as soon as he could speak. “I think it would look better if Thompson would get off and carry the horse instead of making the horse carry him. His great weight will break the beast down before he has gone a mile.”
“You don’t know anything about an Indian pony,” replied the colonel. “I once had occasion to send Thompson to Fort Laramie with despatches, and he rode that same horse eighty-five miles in twenty-four hours without the least trouble.”
“I shouldn’t have believed that little animal had so much strength and endurance,” said Oscar, still more astonished. “Thompson doesn’t seem to think much of my skill as a hunter, does he?”
“You can’t wonder at it after the experience he has had with people from the States. He once shot four buffaloes for a gentleman living in New York, who cut off the tails of the game, took them home, and hung them up in his library as trophies of his own prowess.”
29“I don’t see how he could do that,” said Oscar almost indignantly. “I will gladly pay Thompson for any specimens I cannot procure myself, but I couldn’t have the face to pass them off as my own. He hasn’t a very high opinion of my courage, either. He thinks I shall be willing to come back to the fort before spring.”
“That’s another thing you can’t wonder at. He knows what is before you, and you don’t. Now you have two days to spend in any manner most agreeable to yourself—this is Thursday, and you are not to start until Monday, you know—and, if you are not too weary with travel, I think I can put it in your power to obtain two or three fine specimens before you start for the hills. Do you ride?”
“Yes, sir. I have broken more than one colt to the saddle.”
“Then that is something you will not have to learn over again. Could you stand a fifteen-mile canter to-night?”
“I should enjoy it,” replied Oscar with great eagerness.
“All right. We’ll make up a little party 30among the officers, and spend the greatest part of to-morrow in coursing antelope. That is a sport you know nothing about, of course, and I tell you beforehand that your horsemanship, and skill with the revolver and lasso, will be pretty thoroughly tested.”
“Lasso?” repeated Oscar. “I didn’t know that antelope were ever hunted with the lasso.”
“Certainly they are; and it is the most exciting way of capturing them. You can’t imagine what hard riding it takes to enable one to slip a lariat over the head of a youngster about six months old. The little fellows run like the wind, and have a way of dodging and ducking their heads, just as the noose is about to settle down over their necks, that is perfectly exasperating. On Saturday we will pay our respects to the wolves. They are not worth a charge of powder, but we manage to get a little sport out of them by shooting them with the bow and arrow.”
“Then I shall not get any,” said Oscar. “I don’t know how to use a bow.”
“You can’t learn younger. The first thing, however, is to go down to the corral and pick 31out a pony. The quartermaster knows all about them, and we will ask him to go with us and make the selection. Orderly, tell Major Baker I want to see him.”
The major, who was the acting quartermaster, made his appearance in a few minutes, and the three walked leisurely toward the gate, discussing the merits of the captured ponies as they went.
At a sign from the colonel, accompanied by a pantomime that Oscar could not understand, a man who was sitting on the opposite side of the parade ground, with a blanket over his shoulders, arose to his feet and disappeared through an open doorway.
When he came out again Oscar saw that he was an Indian, and that he had exchanged his blanket for a coil of rope, which he carried in his hand.
He fell in behind the colonel and his two companions, and followed them down the hill toward the corral in which the ponies were confined.
There were twenty-five or thirty of them in the enclosure, and they looked so very small, 32when compared with the cavalry horses that were picketed on the outside, that Oscar could hardly bring himself to believe that they were full-grown animals.
They looked more like colts, and it did not seem possible that they could carry a rider for weeks at a time, with nothing but grass to eat, or beat a Kentucky thoroughbred in a race of twenty miles.
The officers stopped when they had passed through the gate of the corral, and while the major was running his eyes over the herd in search of the particular pony he wanted to find, Oscar had opportunity to take a good survey of the Indian.
He was one of the Osage scouts attached to the colonel’s command, and though not so large a man as Big Thompson, he was taller than either of the officers, and the battered stovepipe hat he wore on his head made him look taller than he really was.
He wore leggings and moccasins, a gray flannel shirt, a tattered officer’s dress coat, with a captain’s epaulet on one shoulder and a sergeant’s chevron on the other, and 33the band on his hat was stuck full of feathers.
He did not look like a very formidable person, and yet, as Oscar afterward learned, he had the reputation of being the bravest man in his nation. He stood quietly by, with his lasso on his arm, awaiting the colonel’s further orders.
“There he is! there he is!” exclaimed the major, laying his hand on his commander’s shoulder, and pointing toward the pony of which he was in search. “Come here, Preston, and tell me what you think of him.”
“I don’t see him,” replied Oscar, stepping behind the major, and raising himself on tiptoe, so that he could look along the officer’s outstretched arm. “I can’t tell one from the other. They are all sorrels, and look exactly alike to me.”
“But there is a big difference in them, all the same,” answered the major. “That fellow is a trained hunter, and worth fifty dollars of any man’s money. He will follow a buffalo, antelope, or elk over the roughest ground or 34through a prairie-dogs’ village without making a single misstep, and without the least guidance from the reins. I know that to be a fact, for I have seen him do it. If you want something a little handsomer and more fancy,” added the major, pointing to a pony that was trotting about on the outskirts of the herd, as if to show off the ribbons and feathers that were braided in his mane and tail, “there he is, and he is worth thirty dollars more.”
“I don’t care for anything fancy,” replied Oscar. “I came out here to work, not to put on style. Those thirty dollars are worth more to me than they are to Uncle Sam.”
“I think the buffalo hunter is the one you want,” remarked the colonel. “You will have two days in which to try him, and if he doesn’t suit you can bring him back and exchange him for another.”
So saying he turned to the Osage, and pointing out the horse in question, told him to secure it.
The Indian at once went in among the ponies, which had retreated to the furthest corner of the corral, and when he came out 35again, leading the buffalo hunter by his lasso, which he had twisted about the animal’s lower jaw, the rest of the herd turned and followed at his heels.
The presence of the Indian seemed to quiet them at once. They stood in no fear of him; but the moment they caught sight of the white men, who were waiting in front of the gate, they wheeled in their tracks and ran back to the other end of the corral again.
When Oscar came to take a good look at the animal he told himself that he was the homeliest thing in the shape of a pony he had ever seen.
There were a dozen others in the corral, which, if left to himself, he would have selected in preference to this one.
He was not at all pleased with the animal’s actions, either; for when he advanced to lay his hand upon him the pony snorted loudly, threw his ears close to his head, and retreated away from him as far as the length of the lariat would allow. He was vicious as well as homely.