The Young Fur Traders. Robert Michael Ballantyne

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СКАЧАТЬ just because if you do Mr Grant will be down upon you, and your father won’t be very well pleased.”

      “Nonsense,” cried Charley. “Father didn’t say I wasn’t to take him. I don’t think he’d care much. He’s not afraid of my breaking my neck. And then, Mr Grant seemed to be only afraid of my being run off with—not of his horse being hurt. Here goes for it!” In another moment Charley had him saddled and bridled, and led him out into the yard.

      “Why, I declare he’s quite quiet; just like a lamb,” said Harry, in surprise.

      “So he is,” replied Charley. “He’s a capital charger; and even if he does bolt, he can’t run five hundred miles at a stretch. If I turn his head to the prairies, the Rocky Mountains are the first things that will bring him up. So let him run if he likes, I don’t care a fig.” And springing lightly into the saddle, he cantered out of the yard, followed by his friend.

      The young horse was a well-formed, showy animal, with a good deal of bone—perhaps too much for elegance. He was of a beautiful dark brown, and carried a high head and tail, with a high-stepping gait, that gave him a noble appearance. As Charley cantered along at a steady pace, he could discover no symptoms of the refractory spirit which had been ascribed to him.

      “Let us strike out straight for the horizon now,” said Harry, after they had galloped half a mile or so along the beaten track. “See, here are the tracks of our friends.” Turning sharp round as he spoke, he leaped his pony over the heap that lined the road, and galloped away through the soft snow.

      At this point the young horse began to show his evil spirit. Instead of following the other, he suddenly halted and began to back.

      “Hollo, Harry!” exclaimed Charley; “hold on a bit. Here’s this monster begun his tricks.”

      “Hit him a crack with the whip,” shouted Harry.

      Charley acted upon the advice, which had the effect of making the horse shake his head with a sharp snort, and back more vigorously than ever.

      “There, my fine fellow, quiet now,” said Charley in a soothing tone, patting the horse’s neck. “It’s a comfort to know you can’t go far in that direction, anyhow!” he added, as he glanced over his shoulder, and saw an immense drift behind.

      He was right. In a few minutes the horse backed into the snow-drift. Finding his hind-quarters imprisoned by a power that was too much even for his obstinacy to overcome, he gave another snort and a heavy plunge, which almost unseated his young rider.

      “Hold on fast,” cried Harry, who had now come up.

      “No fear,” cried Charley, as he clinched his teeth and gathered the reins more firmly.—“Now for it, you young villain!” and raising his whip, he brought it down with a heavy slash on the horse’s flank.

      Had the snow-drift been a cannon, and the horse a bombshell, he could scarcely have sprung from it with greater velocity. One bound landed him on the road; another cleared it; and in a second more he stretched out at full speed—his ears flat on his neck, mane and tail flying in the wind, and the bit tight between his teeth.

      “Well done,” cried Harry, as he passed. “You’re off now, old fellow; good-bye.”

      “Hurrah!” shouted Charley, in reply, leaving his cap in the snow as a parting souvenir; while, seeing that it was useless to endeavour to check his steed, he became quite wild with excitement; gave him the rein; flourished his whip; and flew over the white plains, casting up the snow in clouds behind him like a hurricane.

      While this little escapade was being enacted by the boys, the hunters were riding leisurely out upon the snowy sea in search of a wolf.

      Words cannot convey to you, dear reader, an adequate conception of the peculiar fascination, the exhilarating splendour of the scene by which our hunters were surrounded. Its beauty lay not in variety of feature in the landscape, for there was none. One vast sheet of white alone met the view, bounded all round by the blue circle of the sky, and broken in one or two places by a patch or two of willows, which, rising on the plain, appeared like little islands in a frozen sea. It was the glittering sparkle of the snow in the bright sunshine; the dreamy haziness of the atmosphere, mingling earth and sky as in a halo of gold; the first taste, the first smell of spring after a long winter, bursting suddenly upon the senses, like the unexpected visit of a long-absent, much-loved, and almost forgotten friend; the soft, warm feeling of the south wind, bearing on its wings the balmy influences of sunny climes, and recalling vividly the scenes, the pleasures, the bustling occupations of summer. It was this that caused the hunters’ hearts to leap within them as they rode along—that induced old Mr Kennedy to forget his years, and shout as he had been wont to do in days gone by, when he used to follow the track of the elk or hunt the wild buffalo; and it was this that made the otherwise monotonous prairies on this particular day so charming.

      The party had wandered about, without discovering anything that bore the smallest resemblance to a wolf, for upwards of an hour; Fort Garry had fallen astern (to use a nautical phrase) until it had become a mere speck on the horizon, and vanished altogether; Peter Mactavish had twice given a false alarm in the eagerness of his spirit, and had three times plunged his horse up to the girths in a snow-drift; the senior clerk was waxing impatient, and the horses restive, when a sudden “Hollo!” from Mr Grant brought the whole cavalcade to a stand.

      The object which drew his attention, and to which he directed the anxious eyes of his friends, was a small speck, rather triangular in form, which overtopped a little willow bush not more than five or six hundred yards distant.

      “There he is!” exclaimed Mr Grant. “That’s a fact,” cried Mr Kennedy; and both gentlemen, instantaneously giving a shout, bounded towards the object; not, however, before the senior clerk, who was mounted on a fleet and strong horse, had taken the lead by six yards. A moment afterwards the speck rose up and discovered itself to be a veritable wolf. Moreover, he condescended to show his teeth, and then, conceiving it probable that his enemies were too numerous for him, he suddenly turned round and fled away. For ten minutes or so the chase was kept up at full speed, and as the snow happened to be shallow at the starting-point, the wolf kept well ahead of its pursuers—indeed, distanced them a little. But soon the snow became deeper, and the wolf plunged heavily, and the horses gained considerably. Although to the eye the prairie seemed to be a uniform level, there were numerous slight undulations, in which drifts of some depth had collected. Into one of these the wolf now plunged and laboured slowly through it. But so deep was the snow that the horses almost stuck fast. A few minutes, however, brought them out, and Mr Grant and Mr Kennedy, who had kept close to each other during the run, pulled up for a moment on the summit of a ridge to breathe their panting steeds.

      “What can that be?” exclaimed the former, pointing with his whip to a distant object which was moving rapidly over the plain.

      “Eh! what—where?” said Mr Kennedy, shading his eyes with his hand, and peering in the direction indicated. “Why, that’s another wolf, isn’t it? No; it runs too fast for that.”

      “Strange,” said his friend; “what can it be?”

      “If I hadn’t seen every beast in the country,” remarked Mr Kennedy, “and didn’t know that there are no such animals north of the equator, I should say it was a mad dromedary mounted by a ring-tailed roarer.”

      “It can’t be, surely—not possible!” exclaimed Mr Grant. “It’s not Charley on the new horse!”

      Mr Grant said this with an air of vexation, that annoyed his friend a little. He would not have much minded Charley’s taking a horse СКАЧАТЬ