Episodes in Van Bibber's LifeDavis, Richard Harding
General
Episodes in Van Bibber's Life
Davis, Richard Harding
Fiction; Short stories, American
The men said it did, and went off to put on their riding things, and
four horses were saddled and brought around from the stable. Each of
the four explorers was furnished with a long rope to tie to Duncan's
collar, and with which he was to be led back if they found him. They
were cheered ironically by the maidens they had deserted on compulsion,
and were smiled upon severally by Miss Arnett. Then they separated and
took different roads. It was snowing gently, and was very cold. Van
Bibber drove aimlessly ahead, looking to the right and left and
scanning each back yard and side street. Every now and then he hailed
some passing farm wagon and asked the driver if he had seen a stray
collie dog, but the answer was invariably in the negative. He soon
left the village in the rear, and plunged out over the downs. The wind
was bitter cold, and swept from the water with a chill that cut through
his clothes.
"Oh, this is great," said Van Bibber to the patient horse in front of
him; "this IS sport, this is. The next time I come to this part of the
world I'll be dragged here with a rope. Nice, hospitable people those
Arnetts, aren't they? Ask you to make yourself at home chasing dogs
over an ice fjord. Don't know when I've enjoyed myself so much." Every
now and then he stood up and looked all over the hills and valleys to
see if he could not distinguish a black object running over the white
surface of the snow, but he saw nothing like a dog, not even the track
of one.
Twice he came across one of the other men, shivering and swearing from
his saddle, and with teeth chattering. "Well," said one of them,
shuddering, "you haven't found that dog yet, I see."
"No," said Van Bibber. "Oh, no. I've given up looking for the dog.
I'm just driving around enjoying myself. The air's so invigorating,
and I like to feel the snow settling between my collar and the back of
my neck."
At four o'clock Van Bibber was about as nearly frozen as a man could be
after he had swallowed half a bottle of brandy. It was so cold that
the ice formed on his cigar when he took it from his lips, and his feet
and the dashboard seemed to have become stuck together.
"I think I'll give it up," he said, finally, as he turned the horse's
head towards Southampton. "I hate to lose three hundred and fifty
dollars as much as any man; but I love my fair young life, and I'm not
going to turn into an equestrian statue in ice for anybody's collie
dog."
He drove the cart to the stable and unharnessed the horse himself, as
all the grooms were out scouring the country, and then went upstairs
unobserved and locked himself in his room, for he did not care to have
the others know that he had given out so early in the chase. There was
a big open fire in his room, and he put on his warm things and
stretched out before it in a great easy-chair, and smoked and sipped
the brandy and chuckled with delight as he thought of the four other
men racing around in the snow.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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