The Dog Crusoe and His Master: A Story of Adventure in the Western PrairiesBallantyne, R. M. (Robert Michael)
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The Dog Crusoe and His Master: A Story of Adventure in the Western Prairies
Ballantyne, R. M. (Robert Michael)
Adventure stories; Dogs -- Fiction
Dick had often heard of the manner in which the Mexicans "break" their
horses, so he determined to abandon the method which had already
almost worn him out, and adopt the other, as far as the means in his
power rendered it possible. Instead, therefore, of loosening the lasso
and re-commencing the struggle, he tore a branch from a neighbouring
bush, cut the hobbles, strode with his legs across the fallen steed,
seized the end of the short line or bridle, and then, ordering Crusoe
to quit his hold, he loosened the noose which compressed the horse's
neck and had already well-nigh terminated its existence.
One or two deep sobs restored it, and in a moment it leaped to its
feet with Dick firmly on its back. To say that the animal leaped and
kicked in its frantic efforts to throw this intolerable burden
would be a tame manner of expressing what took place. Words cannot
adequately describe the scene. It reared, plunged, shrieked, vaulted
into the air, stood straight up on its hind legs, and then almost as
straight upon its fore ones; but its rider held on like a burr. Then
the mustang raced wildly forwards a few paces, then as wildly back,
and then stood still and trembled violently. But this was only a brief
lull in the storm, so Dick saw that the time was now come to assert
the superiority of his race.
"Stay back, Crusoe, and watch my rifle, pup," he cried, and raising
his heavy switch he brought it down with a sharp cut across the
horse's flank, at the same time loosening the rein which hitherto he
had held tight.
The wild horse uttered a passionate cry, and sprang forward like the
bolt from a cross-bow.
And now commenced a race which, if not so prolonged, was at least as
furious as that of the far-famed Mazeppa. Dick was a splendid rider,
however--at least as far as "sticking on" goes. He might not have come
up to the precise pitch desiderated by a riding-master in regard to
carriage, etc., but he rode that wild horse of the prairie with as
much ease as he had formerly ridden his own good steed, whose bones
had been picked by the wolves not long ago.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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