Track's End: Being the Narrative of Judson Pitcher's Strange Winter Spent There as Told by Himself and Edited by Hayden Carruth Including an Accurate Account of His Numerous Adventures, and the Facts Concerning His Several Surprising Escapes from Death Now First Printed in FullCarruth, Hayden
General
Track's End: Being the Narrative of Judson Pitcher's Strange Winter Spent There as Told by Himself and Edited by Hayden Carruth Including an Accurate Account of His Numerous Adventures, and the Facts Concerning His Several Surprising Escapes from Death Now First Printed in Full
Carruth, Hayden
Adventure stories; Dakota Territory -- Fiction; Winter -- Fiction; Young men -- Fiction
I had on under my coat a jacket of coarse, strong cloth. This I took
off and cut and tore up into strips, knotted them together, and made
two stout ropes five or six feet long. I fastened one end of each of
these to the front of the skees. Then I let out Kaiser's collar two or
three holes, tied the other ends of my ropes to each side of it,
making them precisely like harness traces, and pushed out of the door
and sat down on my new sled. I had like to have forgotten the letter
on the door, but drew myself up and got it and put it in my pocket.
There was a monstrous red skull and cross-bones on the outside of it.
If you think I did not have a time teaching that dog to draw me, then
you are mistaken. The poor animal had not the least notion what I
wanted of him, and kept mixing up his legs in the traces, coming back
and bounding around me, and doing everything else that he shouldn't. I
coaxed, and tried to explain, and worked with him, and at last boxed
his ears. At this he sat down in the snow and looked at me as much as
to say, "Go ahead, if you will, and abuse the only friend you have
got!" At last I got him square in front, and, clapping my hands
suddenly, he jumped forward, jerked the sled out from under me, and
went off on the run with the thing flying behind.
I lay in the snow with my five wits half scared out of me, expecting
no less than that he would be so terrified that he would run to
Track's End without once stopping. But I made out to do what I could,
and called "Kaiser! Kaiser!" with all the voice I had. Luckily he
heard me, got his senses again, and stopped. He stood looking at me a
long time; then he slipped the collar over his head and came trotting
back, innocent as a lamb, without the sled.
There seemed to be nothing to do but to crawl to the sled, so I
started, with Kaiser tagging behind and not saying a word. I think he
felt he had done wrong, but did not know exactly how. The crawling
pained my ankle somewhat, but not so much as before, and I got to the
sled at last. I saw that it was near the trail which the men on
horseback had made, and this gave me an idea: perhaps Kaiser would
follow that. I pushed on over, and as soon as he saw the trail he
pricked up his ears, began to sniff at the snow and look toward the
town. I hitched him up again, headed him the right way, took a good
hold, and shouted, "Sic 'em, Kaiser!" He started off like a shot and
ran till he was quite out of breath.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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