BUCK 
 HORSE 4 
 
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* 
 
The Black Horse 
 
 By Carl Louis Kingsbury 
 
 Published by 
 
 David C. Cook Publishing Company 
 
 Elgin Chicago New York Boston 
 
 Publishing House and Mailing Rooms, Elgin, Illinois 
 
Copyright, 1908, 
 
 By David C. Cook Publishing Co., 
 
 Elgin, Illinois. 
 
THE BLACK HORSE 
 
 By CARL LOUIS KINGSBURY 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ON THE hot August morning when we started from 
 Bald City, Oregon, en route to Tillamook county on 
 the Pacific coast, it seemed to me that every man, 
 woman and child in the city were on hand to see us off. 
 An occurrence that was by no means impossible, as the 
 city, sprawling untidily over its adobe flat, was small, 
 and our outfit, unhappily, large, and the eyes of all turned 
 disapprovingly from Lewis and Clark, our two small sorrel 
 horses, to the heavily laden, white topped wagon behind 
 them. Uncle Sumner Logan and Cousin Lizzie and I 
 knew, quite as well as the best of them, that the horses 
 were too small for the load, but there seemed just then 
 no help for it. 
 
 Uncle Sumner was a surveyor and even, on occasion, 
 a civil engineer, but he had been out of work for many 
 painful months, on that hot August morning when the 
 population of Bald City collected to stare at us with 
 accusing eyes, and the prospect of getting a good position, 
 could he present himself at a given place before a certain 
 date, admitted of no delay. 
 
 There were only the three of us in the family, or at 
 least I suppose that is the way it would be reckoned by 
 most people; but Cousin Lizzie and I always counted 
 Otho, the collie that I had brought from my Eastern home 
 with me, as a fourth and very important member. 
 
4 THE BLACK HORSE. 
 
 Excepting Uncle Sumner and Lizzie, I had no relatives, 
 and I had never seen either of them until, soon after 
 mother's death, I had come out to live with them. Moth- 
 er's only sister, Aunt Annie, was Uncle Sumner's wife. 
 
 It was but a few weeks after mother's death that she, 
 too, passed away quite suddenly. So that, as I said, we 
 three comprised the entire family, and it should not have 
 proved such a serious matter to transport us to the desired 
 point. But it began to look, 1 as we pulled slowly out 
 of Bald City that morning, as though the undertaking 
 might prove rather a serious one. For one thing, in his 
 haste to be gone, uncle had packed our belongings with- 
 out much regard to affinities. The kerosene can he had 
 placed beside the sack of flour that was to have been our 
 mainstay in the way of provisions, and when on going 
 down a steep hill the can turned over, pouring its contents 
 impartially over the flour and the adjacent grub box, it 
 was little short of a disaster. Our combined capital 
 amounted to just two dollars and seventy cents, and it 
 was out of the question to think of throwing away the 
 kerosened flour and buying another sack. This was only 
 one of many little incidents that, on the first day, gave 
 hint of what we might expect in the future. The hints 
 did not fail of fulfillment; only as the slow days dragged 
 along there was a good deal of variation, amusing or 
 vexatious as the case might be, in these incidents of the 
 journey. One of these variations — one that was not amus- 
 ing — was that after some two weeks of travel the horses 
 showed a tendency to balk. Yet it could not in justice 
 really be classified as balking, either, because it was 
 usually in the morning, at noon, or after a rest, that if 
 the notion took them they would refuse to stir a step. 
 
 It seemed as though they were discou r ' ged with, as it 
 must have appeared to them, the long and objectless travel 
 up hill and down, over roads that were seldom smooth 
 and never level. Uncle Sumner had a lively imagination 
 and a buoyant spirit, but an uncontrollable temper. Some- 
 
TEE BLACK HORSE. 5 
 
 times when the horses stopped he whipped them savagely 
 until they pressed on again, as they always did sooner or 
 later — and that shows, too, that they were not really balky. 
 
 It seemed to me that if they could understand that we 
 had any purpose whatever in thus crawling along all day 
 and dropping down by the wayside anywhere at night 
 they would have worked with better heart. 
 
 I think this because Lewis had a way of hanging back 
 in his harness until the ragged collar stood up around his 
 ears, and so turning his head back to look, round-eyed 
 and astonished, but flintily obdurate, at the person who 
 was beating a tattoo upon his wasted flanks. Lizzie had 
 taken to walking along with me a good deal, and on 
 those occasions she would get behind the wagon, out of 
 her father's sight, and shed tears of pity and helpless- 
 ness. For it couldn't be helped. We were like people 
 who had embarked in a leaky boat to cross a stream; we 
 must keep on going or sink. There was no help for it. 
 
 The horses had grown fond of me, and sometimes I 
 could coax them to move by walking backward before 
 them, enticing them with a bit of bread. 
 
 But if they had quite resolved to stay where they were, 
 this device was useless. One day they had reached this 
 pass. I had tried coaxing in vain, and uncle had been 
 whipping them both impartially, when suddenly he threw 
 down whip and lines. 
 
 " Look at him !" he cried, pointing to Lewis, who had 
 his collar well up around his ears and was regarding his 
 persecutor with a kind of scandalized but impersonal 
 interest. " Doesn't he look exactly like some poor old 
 woman with her cheap cap all awry?" And indeed he did. 
 
 Uncle threw himself on the ground. " I won't whip 
 him another stroke to-day, not if we have to stay here 
 until to-morrow morning !" he declared. 
 
 But half an hour afterward when he gathered up the 
 lines, making a tentative essay toward locomotion, both 
 horses started readily. 
 
6 TEE BLACK E0R8E. 
 
 " I would rather be whipped myself than have to do 
 this !" uncle would say at times, and I am sure he was 
 sincere in the feeling until he became angry; then he did 
 not care. 
 
 He tried to get another team, but we had only the guitar 
 and the much battered sewing-machine to offer in ex- 
 change for them, and so it was not until we were weeks 
 out on our journey, and had at last come into the 
 country of the great horse ranches, that our opportunity 
 came. 
 
 It was with John Steele, who owned a ranch near the 
 little post station of Izee, that we at last struck the bar- 
 gain which made uncle the owner — I thought so then, 
 and I think so yet — of the most beautiful horse that I 
 ever set eyes on. 
 
 The little daughter of the house was half sick and 
 wholly querulous on the Monday evening when we drew 
 up beside the ranch house. Uncle had a habit, with an 
 eye to business, I think, of getting out his guitar and sing- 
 ing to its accompaniment every pleasant evening after 
 supper. 
 
 Especially would he do this if there were people near, 
 and it invariably resulted in their gathering around our 
 campfire. The little daughter of the house, seated in a big 
 chair beside an open window, heard the music and begged 
 her father to invite the player inside, which he did. 
 
 After playing, uncle made his usual proposition for a 
 trade. Mr. Steele was one of those slow-speaking men, 
 and before he could get a word out the little girl broke 
 in, excitedly: 
 
 " Papa, please buy me that guitar ! I want it awfully, 
 papa, and mamma wants a sewing-machine, don't you, 
 mamma?" She appealed to the woman who was standing 
 in the doorway. The woman laughed. 
 
 " I reckon so," she said, indulgently. And that settled 
 it. It settled it so effectually that uncle, who, now that 
 the game was in hand, showed a thrifty disposition to 
 
THE BLACK HORSE. 7 
 
 haggle, was offered his pick of the entire band of five 
 hundred horses. 
 
 The next day was spent in rounding up the horses for 
 uncle's inspection, and his choice fell upon the magnificent 
 black and a large bay. 
 
 Here, however, Steele proved obdurate. " You've 
 selected the finest horse that there is anywhere in this 
 whole country — ask these vaqueros here — and I'm going 
 to let you take him if you say so, because Edie's ailing 
 and wants that do-funny to play on. But I can't let you 
 have another horse along with him. I'll tell you what 
 I will do, though; I'll let you have any common pair that 
 you will pick out, instead of the black." 
 
 " No," uncle said, " I'll take the black." 
 
 The sewing-machine was lifted out. Oh, how glad we 
 were to be rid of it ! And so I am sure were Lewis and 
 Clark. The guitar was transferred to the lap of its new 
 owner, whose thin fingers immediately began straying 
 over the strings, and uncle, who among his other avoca- 
 tions had once been a famous vaquero on a horse ranch 
 in Southern California, announced his intention of stay- 
 ing over one day for the purpose of " gentling " the great 
 black. 
 
 The horse had not so much as one white hair on him, 
 and uncle promptly named him Midnight. Midnight was 
 seven years old. He was so large and strong that the 
 vaqueros had rather shunned the task of breaking him in, 
 the more especially as great size is not a desirable 
 attribute in a riding horse. 
 
 Midnight, king of the range, had never felt the touch 
 of a rope since the one dark day in his early colthood 
 when he had been thrown and branded. Now he was 
 penned up in an unbreakable enclosure, and a human 
 being, rope in hand, was preparing to initiate him in the 
 useful business of wearing a harness and pulling a wagon. 
 
 It was early on Tuesday morning that the first lesson 
 was to be given, and Midnight, from his station in the 
 
8 THE BLACK HORSE. 
 
 farthest corner of the corral, his perfect head held high 
 aloft, watched with absorbed interest the slow and cau- 
 tious approach of his would-be instructor. 
 
 We were in desperate need of the aid that the black 
 horse could give, yet as the day wore on, my sympathies 
 were irresistibly drawn toward Midnight. He showed 
 himself wild, shy, rebellious, but not in the least degree 
 cowardly, vindictive or resentful. Uncle Sumner proved 
 himself a master hand with a lariat. Standing on the 
 ground, without the advantage of throwing from a saddle, 
 at the first cast he sent the rope with its resistless noose 
 over 'the proud black head, and taking a half hitch around 
 the snubbing post beside him, held on grim and silent 
 while the great horse, trembling and snorting, reared, 
 pawed the air and struggled, pulling frantically backward 
 in the effort to free himself from the strangling noose — 
 the noose that all his frenzied efforts only drew the tighter, 
 until, exhausted and panting for breath, he fell heavily 
 to the ground and his shining black coat was gray with 
 the powdery dust of the corral. 
 
 Then uncle, who according to his own desire was doing 
 the " gentling " unaided, ran in and loosened the noose, 
 allowing the horse to recover his breath. This done, 
 Midnight was instantly on his feet again and the same 
 struggle was repeated. It was repeated, over and over, 
 until nearly noon. Mr. Steele came out then and invited 
 uncle in to dinner, an invitation which uncle declined. 
 
 " It's the very essence of an experiment like this that 
 the horse should be kept at it from the first until he gives 
 in, you know," he said, in excuse; and Mr. Steele agreed 
 with him. " If you do stop before a horse that you're 
 gentling has found out what's required of him, he's bound 
 to make you do the work all over again from the start, 
 and ten to one if he doesn't conclude that it was his hold- 
 ing out that made you stop and so be encouraged to hold 
 out the longer next time," Mr. Steele added, from his own 
 experience. It was but a few minutes after this that Mid- 
 
THE GREAT HORSE REARED AND STRUGGLED. 
 
10 TEE BLACK HORSE. 
 
 night mastered the first, or primary, lesson. Having 
 learned it, it was fixed in his mind for life. 
 
 His struggles to escape the rope, furious as they had 
 been, had not seemed to affect his great strength, or even 
 to tire him much, but when uncle loosened the noose for 
 about the twentieth time, allowing him to regain his 
 breath, Midnight, instead of rearing in air and renewing 
 the fight, stood perfectly still and looked at the rope trail- 
 ing from his neck to the snubbing post, and thence, by a 
 running hitch, to uncle's hand. Then, lowering his head, 
 he sniffed questioningly at the rope. 
 
 At this juncture uncle began slowly drawing it in; 
 slowly the black horse followed until his nose was against 
 the snubbing post and uncle's hand was laid caressingly on 
 his neck. From the rope his great soft eyes turned to 
 uncle. 
 
 " It's all right, old fellow," Uncle Sumner assured him. 
 " Just you do as I say, and we'll not have a bit of trouble." 
 
 Then he ran his hands over the horse's dust-begrimed 
 coat, lifted his feet, one after another, and even opened 
 his mouth and inspected his teeth. Midnight made no 
 protest; in so far as that rope was concerned, he had 
 surrendered. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 I HAD been sitting on the corral fence, from first to 
 last a keenly interested spectator, and now uncle called 
 to me: 
 
 " Come here, Sydney, and get acquainted with our new 
 team." 
 
 I don't know what it was that made me feel so sorry 
 for that horse. 
 
 It might have been because he had been so untamable 
 and fearless; because he carried his head so high; because, 
 imprisoned and alone, he had made such a gallant fight 
 and was now so humbled, and I thought of what Lewis 
 and Clark had been through and what was in store for 
 him, that, ignoring the caution with which I should have 
 approached an unbroken horse, I went, in obedience to 
 uncle's invitation, straight up to Midnight, threw my 
 arms around his neck and buried my face on his shoulder. 
 
 I was bitterly ashamed of the tears that, despite all my 
 efforts at self-control, wet my cheeks and plowed tiny 
 furrows in the dust that adhered to Midnight's coat. I 
 was ashamed, and I had a forlorn hope that uncle would 
 not know that I was crying. But I raised my head again 
 and my tears were instantly dried, while I stood back a 
 pace, as he, after a moment's silent contemplation of the 
 tableau that Midnight and I presented, made the concise 
 statement : 
 
 " Well, you are a fool, Sydney Rockwell ! You had bet- 
 ter go and get Lizzie to make you a rag baby to play 
 with!" 
 
 Uncle had a habit of saying things that were like noth- 
 ing so much as the stinging cut of a whip, but I forgot 
 the anger that came over me in a surging wave, and 
 even he was silent, when the horse— who, turning his head 
 
12 THE BLACK HORSE. 
 
 to watch me, had not taken his eyes off me since I 
 touched him — reached out, and, after sniffing at my 
 clinched hands, began softly licking them. 
 
 " Well," uncle said at length, " we've both made an 
 impression on him, it seems. It remains to be seen which 
 is the stronger." Then he led Midnight into a corner 
 of the corral, tied him, and put before him an armful of 
 hay, which Midnight refused to eat, contenting himself 
 with gazing at it thoughtfully, apparently regarding it 
 as part and parcel of the lesson set for him to master. 
 When uncle led him out to the irrigating ditch beside thQ 
 road to drink, he followed so closely that the rope hung 
 slack between them. He did not show the slightest fear 
 of anything, not even of the music that the little ranch 
 girl was, by this time, evoking from the guitar. 
 
 We took the road, or, as the freighters graphically put 
 it, " hit the trail " the next morning. Uncle, by the way, 
 had spent the greater part of the time after Midnight 
 acquired his first lesson in teaching the little girl, who 
 was clamorously insistent in the matter, some of the rudi- 
 ments of music. 
 
 For this service the little maid's father, who seemed 
 to be a genial, free-hearted sort of man, had paid him ten 
 dollars. 
 
 Ten dollars, and the powerful black horse to help pull 
 the load ! 
 
 Arden now seemed close at hand, although the Cascades 
 were yet to be crossed. 
 
 Uncle did not immediately attempt, however, to utilize 
 this new motive power. It happened that the highway for 
 several miles onward from the Steele ranch was rough 
 and rocky, and he did not want to run the risk of Mid- 
 night's doing himself an injury, as he might if he took 
 it into his head to fight on such a road. 
 
 So we went on as usual, save that I was leading a horse. 
 Otho had at first been disposed to resent my interest in 
 the new horse, and still more the new horse's interest in 
 
THE BLACK HORSE. 13 
 
 me; but, as the day wore on, his attitude toward Midnight 
 gradually underwent a change, and, instead of the gruff, 
 resentful bark with which he had at first greeted Mid- 
 night's tentative essays toward a better acquaintance, he 
 at length permitted the horse to come close up to him 
 without remonstrance. Finally, after a long and silent 
 look into each other's eyes, horse and dog touched noses 
 and a declaration of friendship seemed to have been fully 
 ratified. From that on Otho forgot to be jealous. 
 
 The triumvirate of snow-clad peaks known as the Three 
 Sisters loomed before us, white and beautiful, when, soon 
 after our short noon halt, we came upon the stretch of 
 roadway, level, slightly sandy and free from rocks, where 
 uncle decided to make a trial of the new horse. 
 
 The sorrels were unharnessed, and Clark, the smaller 
 of the two, turned out to follow, while I helped uncle fit 
 his harness on to Midnight. 
 
 Midnight made no objection, not even when Clark's 
 ragged collar was — I can't say fitted, but hung, rather — 
 around his neck. He merely turned his head to look 
 curiously at the odd leathern contrivance that was being 
 fastened upon him, but he evinced no fear of it. Indeed, 
 further acquaintance only intensified the conviction we all 
 had that Midnight was absolutely fearless. He seemed 
 too proud to be afraid of anything, or, as it afterward 
 appeared, vindictive. 
 
 Poor little Clark's harness was such a misfit for his 
 giant shoulders and mighty girth that it would have been 
 laughable to see had it not, in view of the circumstances, 
 been so pathetic. 
 
 By dint of lengthening the harness out with rope and 
 bits of straps, we somehow got it together on Midnight 
 and then put him in beside Lewis. 
 
 I have omitted to mention one peculiarity of the sorrels. 
 They were extremely fond of one another, and this fact, 
 while useful in some ways — notably in that the free one 
 would never stray far from his less fortunate, mate,, thus 
 
14 TEE BLACK E0R8E. 
 
 enabling us to turn them loose, turn and turn about, to 
 graze — had its drawbacks, and was destined, in the end, 
 to get us into serious trouble with Midnight. 
 
 There was no hint of this, however, on that first after- 
 noon when, after one or two plunges, followed by the 
 discovery that the wagon, no matter how he tried to 
 escape from it, remained at just such a distance behind 
 him, Midnight settled down to his work and pulled like 
 a hero. 
 
 Uncle Sumner was jubilant. He had, with a share of 
 the ten dollars, bought some hay and oats at a wayside 
 ranch, and that evening Midnight still further completed 
 his satisfaction by eating his supper with a relish. 
 
 The next morning Midnight was again put in by the 
 side of Lewis. Uncle climbed to his seat, gave the word, 
 and — Lewis settled back in his harness, refusing to stir ! 
 Worse, when Midnight, recalling that, when he had pulled 
 on the previous afternoon, everything followed him, tried, 
 alone, to move the load, Lewis braced his legs stiffly and 
 did what in him lay — and, as he was a remarkably strong 
 and sinewy horse, that amounted to a good deal — to hinder 
 this project. Midnight seemed rather puzzled than other- 
 wise by this action — or inaction — of Lewis', but it tran- 
 spired that he was learning. 
 
 Uncle, not wishing to fret or excite the wild horse, got 
 down and argued the case with Lewis; imploring him, 
 for his own good, to behave like the gentleman that he 
 was. I got some biscuit, and, holding one temptingly 
 under Lewis' nose, invited him to come on and be fed. 
 He would not so much as look at it; he wanted his mate 
 beside him, and, lacking that, would do nothing. The 
 sorrels were in much better shape than they had been the 
 week before. The wayside feed had been good, and they 
 had been, for the past three days, liberally provided with 
 oats and hay. There was, if you leave out the question 
 of Lewis' inconvenient affection for Clark, much better 
 ground than usual for uncle's exasperation. 
 
THE BLACK HORSE. 15 
 
 Blows soon followed the coaxing, and, after every 
 punishment, uncle tried in vain to induce the sorrel to 
 move on. After two or three futile attempts of this sort, 
 Midnight, too, declined to try to move the load. Soon he 
 did more. He had mastered and submitted to the lesson of 
 the rope, but this was something different; apparently 
 there were two sides to this story. 
 
 Suddenly, as uncle was again striving to persuade Lewis 
 with the whip, the black reared, bounded forward, drag- 
 ging the wagon after him and Lewis off his unwilling 
 feet, then stopped with a buck jump that literally shed 
 the flimsy, rotten harness from his back — collar, tugs 
 and all. 
 
 It all happened in an instant; the obstinate Lewis had 
 not regained his feet before the black was free save for 
 the remnants of the bridle that still dangled about his 
 head. Uncle sprang to catch him, but Midnight, with a 
 snort of defiance, cantered off to one side of the road and 
 stopped. 
 
 Clark had been left to follow the wagon at his own 
 sweet will, and uncle called to me : 
 
 " Catch Clark and tie him to that tree. Maybe Mid- 
 night will go up to him and I can catch him." 
 
 I did as directed, but Midnight did not care for Clark. 
 He cared more to watch for the next move in this curious 
 business of civilizing a wild horse. He did not try to run 
 away, but simply kept out of uncle's reach and watched. 
 
 " See if you can get him, Syd ; he seems to rather like 
 you," uncle acknowledged when, hot and weary, he was 
 forced to desist from the fruitless chase. 
 
 " I don't know that he will let me get him, but I'll try," 
 I said, and started toward the horse with Otho at my 
 heels. 
 
 " Here !" uncle called after me, sharply, " leave that 
 dog behind you and take a rope." 
 
 " No ; if you want me to catch him you'll have to let 
 me do it in my own way, uncle." And I walked out 
 
1G THE BLACK HORSE. 
 
 toward the horse with empty hands and the dog barking 
 joyously beside me. Otho was always delighted when 
 I left the beaten roadway, seemingly anticipating a frolic. 
 On our near approach Midnight transferred his attention 
 from uncle to us. Otho ran up to him, making little, 
 playful, upward jumps at his head, and I held out an 
 inviting hand. 
 
 " Come, Midnight, be a good boy and come with me." 
 
 For answer the horse walked up, laid his head affection- 
 ately on my shoulder and returned my greeting in a way 
 that seemed to me irresistibly comical, it was so like a 
 couple of friendly Eskimos rubbing noses. I threw my 
 arm up over his neck — I had to reach high to do it — and 
 led him back to uncle, who received us with an ungracious 
 grunt. It was apparent that he found Midnight's par- 
 tially for me rather mortifying. As uncle fastened a rope 
 around Midnight's neck, he said to me : 
 
 " It looks to me as if the road takes back to the river 
 again after passing that clump of oaks. Go on ahead and 
 see how it is, and come back and report. If this is the 
 place where the road parallels the river, we don't want 
 to take any risks with the horses. If the road takes to 
 the plains again, I'll put this horse in, and he'll pull or 
 I'll break his neck !" 
 
 I am afraid that, in view of this threat. I was not sorry 
 to discover, as I did on investigation, that, for as far as 
 I could see down the winding highway, it clung closely 
 to the overhanging banks of the turbulent stream. We 
 were, in fact, just entering the long and narrow canon 
 of the Crooked river. 
 
 " You'll have to lead the black, then, until we come to 
 a safer road," uncle said when I returned and reported. 
 
 We then mended the broken harness as best we could 
 and put Clark in beside Lewis, to their mutual satis- 
 faction, and started on again, with the difference that, 
 this time, Lizzie confessed to feeling tired and elected 
 to ride. 
 
THE BLACK HORSE. 17 
 
 Crooked river is a clear and beautiful stream, but I did 
 wish, as I trailed along behind, leading Midnight and 
 watching the slow-moving wagon apprehensively, that it 
 did not roar so loudly, or else that the road had been 
 laid out at a safer distance from its turbulent current; 
 which could hardly have been done, as the canon walls 
 of black, basaltic rock rose sheer and grim straight up 
 from beside river banks so narrow that, in many places, 
 it had been found necessary to blast away the rock 
 to make room enough for the single wagon track. 
 
 Uncle Sumner was a careful driver, and, whenever 
 such a bit of roadway was encountered, he would stop the 
 team and whistle a shrill warning of our approach for the 
 benefit of anyone who might be coming from the opposite 
 direction. 
 
 If the whistle was answered, the unwritten code of trav- 
 elers required that we, who were going down — *. e., down 
 the river — should turn out into the first place wide enough 
 for teams to pass — such places were provided at inter- 
 vals by hollowing out the cliff beside the roadway — and 
 there wait until the coming outfit was safely past us. 
 
 We were well into the canon and were just rounding 
 the shoulder of a rocky point from which we could see 
 that the road before us had been, for a long distance, 
 blasted out from the face of the cliff, when uncle's shrill 
 whistle was answered, far down the road. 
 
 "There!" cried Lizzie, in dismay, " we're just hanging 
 over the river already, pa, and there's no place to turn 
 out." 
 
 " Yes, there is, daughter; we passed one just at the foot 
 of this pitch. Catch hold of the hind wheel, Sydney, and 
 guide the wheel while I back the horses down hill." 
 
 The maneuver was successfully accomplished, and, by 
 the time we were all safely bestowed in the rocky alcove, 
 the wagon was close at hand. 
 
 At the foot of the hill, the driver, a rough-looking 
 man, who seemed, nevertheless, particularly well-fed and 
 
THE MANEUVER WAS SUCCESSFULLY ACCOMPLISHED. 
 
 18 
 
THE BLACK HORSE. 19 
 
 whose horses looked equally sleek and prosperous, stopped 
 for a moment's chat. 
 
 "Going over into the valley?" he queried, addressing 
 uncle, and with, I could not but observe, an admiring 
 eye on Midnight. " Into the valley," by the way, always 
 meant, as we found, on approaching them, crossing the 
 Cascades and so on down into the valley of the Willa- 
 mette. 
 
 " Yes," uncle replied. " Have you come from that 
 way ?" 
 
 " Just came across. We made pretty quick time for 
 fear the snow might catch us before we got across." 
 
 "Snow?" 
 
 " Guess you're a stranger in these parts, ain't you ?" 
 
 " Yes, I am." 
 
 " Well, sometimes the snow comes six inches deep as 
 early as the last week of August on that McKinzie road. 
 You're headed for the McKinzie road, I take it?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " It's the best route ; you're all right so far. The snow 
 has hung off uncommon this season. Why don't you hitch 
 on that black and let him help pull? Your horses seem 
 to have 'most too big a load." 
 
 " Oh, I'll have the black in all right after a little," 
 uncle replied, evasively. " But about the road. Do you 
 suppose it's been snowing up there since you've crossed?" 
 
 " No ; been clear ever since. When you get out of the 
 canon you can see for yourself how clear it is. You can 
 see Mount Hood, hundreds of miles north ; but these clear 
 days at this time o' year are apt to be weather-breeders. 
 Say, do you want to trade that black?" 
 
 " No ; he isn't well broken yet, but he'll be ready to 
 work soon." 
 
 " He'd better be gettin' at it if he's to help snake this 
 plunder over the lava." 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 " Why, after you reach the summit, the road winds 
 
20 THE BLACK HORSE. 
 
 along for five miles over a ridge of lava. It's a kind of 
 welt, or furrow, laid up, instead of down, in the crater 
 of an extinct volcano; but I reckon you'll get over all 
 right. My outfit's camped back here a bit — we're resting 
 up a little after our rush — and I've got a span there, well 
 broke, that I'll trade you for that black. They're smaller 
 than what he is; just what you want. I kind of like his 
 looks and I'll trade even." 
 
 "No; I don't care to trade." 
 
 " Want to trade that dog?" 
 
 Uncle looked at me questioningly. The question seemed 
 to me so preposterous that I gave no sign, and uncle said, 
 rather reluctantly, I thought: "No, no; I think not." 
 
 " Well, I'm going on out of the canon to look up some 
 hay. I understand there's a ranch out here where they 
 have baled hay, and I reckon I can get some. Horses 
 have to be fed, you. know." Just why, at this point, he 
 bestowed a wink upon Uncle Sumner, as if he were tell- 
 ing a joke that was far too good to keep, I did not at 
 the moment comprehend, but comprehension came later. 
 However, Uncle Sumner seemed to understand; he smiled, 
 rather dubiously, and the loquacious stranger went on : 
 
 " We were out hunting yesterday and we got an elk. 
 You better stop at the camp and ask my woman to give 
 you a chunk of meat; we can spare it as well as not. Tell 
 her I sent you. We've done had so much elk meat that 
 we're plum' tired of it." 
 
 So much elk meat that they were tired of it, and we, 
 who were good hunters, too, had been glad enough to 
 find plenty of jack rabbits! 
 
 I thought that uncle's " Thank you," in response to this 
 friendly suggestion, sounded rather forced, and Lizzie, 
 who was a provident little camp cook, seemed distinctly 
 offended. As the stranger, after again urging us to stop 
 and get some elk meat, went his way, whistling merrily, 
 she turned to Uncle Sumner in indignant protest: 
 
 "We don't want any of their old meat, do we, pa?" 
 
THR BLACK HORSE. 21 
 
 " No, my dear. When we eat elk meat it will be of 
 another kind. We aren't helping to dispose of anybody's 
 slow elk." 
 
 Lizzie breathed a sigh of relief. 
 
 " We're having trouble enough on this trip without 
 that," she remarked, sagely. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 WHEN it came to a knowledge of Western things 
 and Western ways, Lizzie, being to the manor 
 born, always put me to the blush ; still, I greatly 
 preferred asking her for information on any subject with- 
 in her range to asking uncle. When we were once more 
 in the road and Lizzie was sitting in the end of the wagon, 
 within convenient talking distance, I got up close enough 
 to inquire, in a low voice: 
 
 "What's wrong with a slow elk, anyway, Lizzie?" 
 
 Lizzie looked at me in surprise. " Why, I thought you 
 had some principle — " she was beginning, and then stopped 
 with a little laugh. " Sydney, sometimes I forget that you 
 are nothing but a tenderfoot. You don't know what a 
 slow elk is, do you?" 
 
 "I do not." 
 
 " It's cattle. That man as good as said in so many 
 words that he had been killing cattle. He didn't say slow 
 elk, but he knew that we knew that there are no elk in 
 this part of the country. And they've been making a 
 regular business of killing cattle; they've had so much 
 beef that they are tired of it. Slow elk ! U-ah ! And 
 another thing, Syd: when anyone tells you that he's got 
 hold of a woolly deer and offers you some of the venison, 
 you just let it alone. He would just call it sheep or 
 mutton and be done with it, if he had come by it honest." 
 
 Decidedly Lizzie had good sense ! I was thinking this, 
 admiringly, as I walked along with one hand on the end- 
 gate of the wagon, the other holding Midnight's halter, 
 when the wagon suddenly stopped and uncle called out, 
 sharply : 
 
 "Are you there, Sydney? Block the wheels, quick!" 
 At the same instant he put on the brake. 
 
 22 
 
TEE BLACK EORSE. 23 
 
 There were plenty of loose stones in the road. Seizing 
 one, I chucked it under the wheel, but neither that nor 
 the brake sufficed to stop the wagon. The horses, after 
 pulling the wagon almost to the top of a short, steep hill, 
 had stopped, not only refusing to go forward, but refusing 
 to hold the wagon. They backed down the hill with it. 
 There was a sharp bend in the river at this point, the 
 road following its course, but some thirty feet above and 
 almost literally overhanging it, was very narrow. 
 
 It was, without exception, the most dangerous bit of 
 roadway that we had yet encountered in our journey, 
 and it was here that those horses had elected to stop and 
 refused to budge. Seeing the uselessness of both trig — 
 as teamsters call anything, block or stone, that is used 
 to check the descent of a wagon — or brake, I sprang 
 upon one of the hind wheels in a vain attempt to check 
 the downward progress. All that I accomplished was to 
 give the wheel a slight turn toward the inner wall instead 
 of allowing it to keep on its course, which was already 
 within six inches of the sheer edge of the bank. I stood 
 on the outside of the wheel, and there was no room for 
 me to land on the ground beside it. Below me — beneath 
 my feet, as I gave one horrified, downward glance — was 
 the river, swift and cold. If I retained my hold on the 
 wagon-tire, my hands would be crushed. Even in that 
 crucial moment I thought how helpless, what a burden 
 I should be, with mangled hands, and, loosening my grip, 
 fell. Fell, for nearly six feet, to land unhurt in a mass 
 of wild grapevines that clung, a strong, tenacious net, to 
 the face of the cliff. 
 
 Falling, I heard Lizzie's frightened scream, and, above 
 that, uncle's stern command to her : 
 
 " Jump ! Jump for your life !" 
 
 Lizzie was as nimble as a cat; she jumped promptly, 
 landing, like a cat, too, on her feet in the middle of the 
 road. I lost no time in scrambling up the mass of friendly 
 vines that had saved me. The wagon had slid down so 
 
I LANDED UNHURT IN A MASS OF GRAPEVINES. 
 24 
 
THE BLACK HORSE. 25 
 
 much farther that the horses, when I again appeared 
 in the road, were where the wagon had been when I left 
 it. And there thev stopped, with one hind wheel half 
 over the edge of the cliff. Lewis turned his head, regard- 
 ing me with gentle interest as I scrambled up, almost 
 under his belly. My appearance in this manner did not 
 disturb his equanimity, but he was so interested that he 
 forgot about balking. Without waiting for orders, he 
 gave the word to Clark and they hauled the wagon up the 
 hill again. Uncle, who had sprung to the ground at their 
 first symptoms of balking, jumped after them, caught the 
 lines, and managed to regain his seat without stopping 
 the wagon. 
 
 Half a mile from s the spot where our journey had so 
 nearly ended in disaster, we came upon the camp of the 
 hunter of " slow elk." The wife was a full-blooded Indian, 
 and she and the half dozen half-breed children looked 
 very good-natured as they stood by the roadside, watch- 
 ing us go by — and also, I am bound to add, extremely 
 greasy. 
 
 It was late in the afternoon when we emerged from 
 the black walls of the canon, coming out on the plains 
 again. The plains looked very bright and cheerful after 
 so long and dark a drive, and uncle at once decided that 
 we would camp there for the night, though it was earlier 
 than we were accustomed to stop. 
 
 While I unharnessed and cared for the horses, uncle 
 went down to the river with his shotgun in quest of some 
 of the ducks that we could plainly hear quacking over 
 beyond the shielding willow hedge. He returned soon 
 with no less than six fine mallards. 
 
 " I got a fair shot right into a bunch," he said, exult- 
 ingly; adding, "If I hadn't got them the first time 
 trying, we would have gone without. There's the track 
 of an immense cougar — a perfectly fresh track — all along 
 the river bank. I wouldn't meddle with one of them for 
 all the ducks on the river." 
 
26 THE BLACK HORSE. 
 
 I helped Lizzie dress the ducks, and she broiled a 
 couple of them over the coals for our supper. Soon after 
 eating, uncle and I rolled ourselves up in our blankets 
 on the ground beside the wagon, and Lizzie went to her 
 bed on the inside. According to our usual tacit arrange- 
 ment, uncle lay close to the wagon wheels on one side, 
 I on the other, and Otho on the ground between us. Otho 
 was a good dog and a brave one; that was one reason 
 why we slept with such a sense of security; if anything 
 unusual occurred or if any danger threatened, he could 
 be trusted to give a prompt alarm. 
 
 Uncle Sumner always slept with the loaded rifle within 
 reach of his hand, and, whenever, as sometimes happened, 
 Otho gave an alarm, the first thing one could see would 
 be the muzzle of that rifle cautiously poked out from 
 under the blankets. 
 
 It must have been nearly midnight that night when 
 Otho gave, not his customary challenging bark, but a 
 sudden, startling yelp of terror. 
 
 All in the same fraction of time I caught the glint of 
 light along a raised rifle barrel and heard Lizzie's voice 
 lifted in a wild, piercing shriek. When we had turned 
 in that evening Lizzie was, to all appearances, already 
 asleep in the wagon and in perfect security. Now her 
 terrible cry arose, close at hand, it is true, but from the 
 direction of the river ! 
 
 Just then uncle fired — fired, if I may say it of so in- 
 tangible a thing — at the scream. I got to my feet then, 
 as, kneeling on one knee, he was calmly reloading, and 
 laid a trembling hand on his shoulder. 
 
 "Oh, Uncle Sumner, are you mad? Are you mad? 
 You — you — " 
 
 Uncle Sumner's large eyes glanced briefly aside from 
 the raised rifle barrel to my face; even in the dim light 
 I could see their questioning; then he fired again, and 
 Lizzie's voice — from the wagon, this time — inquired, 
 quaveringly : 
 
THE BLACK HORSE. 27 
 
 " W-wh-at are you — you — firing at, pa?" 
 
 " At our friend the cougar; didn't you hear him scream? 
 He came up so close and so silent that I think — " 
 
 Well might he break off in amazement. From out the 
 dusky wall of night surrounding us, a half dozen horse- 
 men suddenly appeared; they were scattered out in a wide 
 semicircle, and all came to a halt within a few feet of 
 the wagon. The foremost of them carried a gun, and 
 this gun was accurately trained on uncle's head as its 
 owner observed: 
 
 " It's useless for you to resist ; we've trailed you straight 
 from the Sisters here ! Hold up your hands ! You, too, 
 youngster !" 
 
 Uncle Sumner and I promptly complied with this re- 
 quest, enforced as it was in my case by a second gun in 
 the hands of another of the party. 
 
 " You're making a big mistake of some sort, that's 
 sure," uncle remarked, as some of the men dismounted 
 and began a rapid search of our persons, for concealed 
 weapons, probably, as, after the search was concluded, the 
 first horseman gave the curt direction: 
 
 " That will do, boys. Tie their hands behind them." 
 
 I suppose that Lizzie, who was still in the wagon, and 
 who was never at any time backward in desiring- to know 
 the reason for things, had been too dumfounded to speak, 
 up to this point, but now her voice was heard in indignant 
 protest : 
 
 " What on earth do you think you are doing, anyhow?" 
 she demanded, springing to the ground and facing the 
 circle. " What are you trying to tie up pa and Sydney 
 for? Here, I won't have it!" And, suddenly lowering 
 her head, she butted — if I may be pardoned the word, 
 since no other will describe the action — into the expanded 
 and capacious front of the now dismounted leader. 
 
 So unexpected and vigorous was her onslaught that the 
 man actually reeled backward. To save himself from fall- 
 ing, he caught at Lizzie; neither lost a footing, but the 
 
28 THE BLACK HORSE. 
 
 action dragged Lizzie into the circle of light cast by the 
 smouldering campfire, then — " Why, hello !" he exclaimed. 
 "Smith, you said that cattle thief had an Indian wife; 
 this girl is no half-breed — " 
 
 " No, I'm not !" — Lizzie agreed with him with em- 
 phasis — " neither is that boy !" 
 
 " I told you that you were making a mistake," uncle 
 calmly reminded him. 
 
 The men who had been tying us desisted with the 
 work half done, and turned to throw some of the piled-up 
 sagebrush, ready to hand, on the campfire. The brush 
 flamed up in an instant, and uncle, stepping out into the 
 glare of light, inquired: 
 
 " Do I look like a cattle thief?" And I, for one, could 
 not but think that, if cattle thieves looked at all as he 
 did, they must be an exceptionally fine-looking class of 
 men. Apparently the opinion of our visitors somewhat 
 coincided with mine. The leader at once offered sincere 
 and profuse apologies, agreeing, in his embarrassment, 
 to pay any " damages " that uncle might see fit to assess 
 against him on account of the mistake. 
 
 Uncle Sumner laughed, good-naturedly, declaring that 
 it was all right, and the leader explained: 
 
 " You see, we thought for sure that this was the outfit 
 we are after. They've been killing cattle and stealing 
 hay and grain across the country for two or three hundred 
 miles. Word came to us that they were in the Crooked 
 Canon. This ain't the canon, but it's so nigh it that we 
 made sure we'd run our game to earth." 
 
 " You are a brave girl, as I know to the discomfort of 
 my stomach," he said, approaching Lizzie, and his smile 
 revealed a gleam of white teeth. " Please accept this as 
 a memento of our brief but emphatic meeting." And he 
 dropped into Lizzie's half reluctant hand something that 
 shone brightly. Then, wishing us all good speed and good 
 luck, he sprang into the saddle and clattered away after 
 the rest of his party. 
 
THE BLACK HO RISE. 29 
 
 I threw some more brush on the fire and the three 
 of us bent over it to examine the thing that Lizzie held 
 in her hand. 
 
 The thing was a gold nugget with a hole drilled through 
 it for attaching it to a chain. It must have had consider- 
 able commercial value aside from that as a souvenir. But 
 it was as a souvenir that it appealed to Lizzie. 
 
 We were all astir early the next morning, and, as the 
 road was good, uncle decided to make another trial of 
 the black horse. 
 
 The horses had been picketed out in a little ravine, 
 partially out of sight, and I had considerable fear that 
 they might all have been stampeded by the cougar. How- 
 ever, they were all three where I had left them on the 
 previous evening, and Midnight, who, by this time, made 
 no secret of his preference for me, greeted me with his 
 usual low whinny of recognition. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ON THIS, the second occasion of harnessing, Mid- 
 night varied the program by refusing to move at 
 all, whereas he had, at first, willingly undertaken 
 to do all the work. 
 
 " Perhaps he will do better if I put him on in front," 
 uncle said, after a half hour had been spent in futile 
 efforts to get the black horse to help Lewis, who now 
 showed a willingness to pull. Accordingly Clark was put 
 back into his old place, and Midnight, girded with the 
 ropes and straps that formed an impromptu harness, was 
 hitched on to the end of the wagon tongue. When Lewis 
 and Clark, in obedience to the signal, started, Midnight 
 whirled about until he faced them; then, as they butted 
 into him, he reared high in the air and fell back, coming 
 back on their shoulders and forcing them to their knees. 
 
 For an instant there was a wild tangle of fallen horses, 
 creaking wagon tongue and snapping harness, all jumbled 
 together in the dust. Then all three horses sprang to 
 their feet, and Midnight, shedding bits of broken rope 
 and straps, as he stood, cast an inquiring eye on uncle, 
 apparently demanding, "What next?" 
 
 Uncle, who had restrained himself so far, because his 
 knowledge of horses told him that to punish this unbroken 
 animal at the outset was to spoil him entirely, was furious. 
 
 In the wagon was a large stick, part of a broken wagon 
 bow. Snatching this, he started toward the horse with it 
 in his hand; but, before he could reach Midnight, Lizzie's 
 hand was on his arm. 
 
 " Please don't whip him, pa; he doesn't know any bet- 
 ter; and oh, I wish you had traded for that team!" 
 
 Poor Lizzie ! If she had but left the last words un- 
 spoken ! The implication that he had, perhaps, made a 
 
 30 
 
THE BLACK HORSE. 31 
 
 mistake in not trading for a span of trained horses, made 
 the punishment that uncle now dealt out to Midnight all 
 the more severe. The end of it was that, in the course 
 of his struggles to escape the rain of blows, Midnight 
 freed himself entirely; then, never taking his eyes off the 
 man who had been beating him, he backed swiftly out of 
 reach. 
 
 After another fruitless effort to catch Midnight him- 
 self, uncle was again obliged to call on me. As before, 
 I caught him without difficulty, and again the harnessing 
 and the subsequent whipping was repeated. Uncle said 
 that the horse should help to pull the load that morning; 
 it was deplorably evident that the horse had decided to 
 the contrary. He escaped this time by deliberately bit- 
 ing, tearing and trampling on the poor harness that we 
 had manufactured for him. These frequent furious strug- 
 gles in the dust, as well as his scanty rations — for he 
 would scarcely touch the food placed before him — had 
 sadly dulled the glossy sheen of his black coat, and his 
 frame showed little, increasing hollows where none had 
 been a few days before ; but the haughty pose of his head, 
 the air of proud aloofness with which he held himself, 
 had never changed or lessened. 
 
 " Catch him !" uncle said to me, briefly. I obeyed, but 
 slowly. Uncle did not look, at the moment, a man to be 
 trifled with ; and Lizzie, in spite of her undoubted courage, 
 had crept into the wagon and was lying with her head 
 buried under the bedclothes. Still looking at Midnight, 
 who trusted me, I ventured a remonstrance. 
 
 " Please don't whip him any more, Uncle Sumner. I 
 will walk all the rest of the way, and I can help push the 
 wagon up the hills — " 
 
 " So can I !" came a muffled voice from the wagon. 
 
 " Are you running this outfit ?" uncle asked me, in an 
 ominously calm voice. 
 
 "No, but—" 
 
 " Catch that horse, then !" 
 
32 THE BLACK HORSE. 
 
 I caught him, and the same scene was repeated; uiily, 
 this time, the ridges and welts that gridironed Midnight's 
 coat, telling where the blows had fallen, were accentuated 
 by a gash over one eye. The blood oozed slowly from 
 this wound, half obscuring the bright eye that yet kept 
 an observant and fearless watch on this strange, new 
 creature whose pleasure it was to inflict pain. He had 
 freed himself quickly this time. 
 
 "Catch him!" uncle commanded, at the same time pro- 
 viding himself with a fresh stick. But my mind was made 
 up, and, in my way, I was perhaps as stubbornly im- 
 movable as Midnight himself. 
 
 " You can never do anything with Midnight by whip- 
 ping him, Uncle Sumner. I do not like to see him 
 whipped, either. I am very sorry to disobey you, but I 
 cannot catch him again unless you promise not to whip 
 him." 
 
 Uncle's face went from red to white, and from white 
 to red again. For a breathless instant he looked as if he 
 would use on me the stick that he had just cut. Then 
 he broke into a short, harsh laugh. 
 
 " Very well. I promise. Catch him !" 
 
 When I had done so, uncle whipped him until Midnight 
 broke away. Uncle had been so eager to demonstrate 
 how little weight a promise made to me had with him, that 
 he failed to take the slightest precaution in securing the 
 horse, but began beating him as soon as he was within 
 range. 
 
 As Midnight backed away, uncle turned savagely to me. 
 
 " Get that horse, instantly !" 
 
 "No," I said. 
 
 The horse had trusted me. Once, twice, three times 
 had his trust been betrayed. That was enough. Often 
 since, in recalling the occurrences of that day, I have been 
 constrained to confess to a feeling of sympathy for Uncle 
 Sumner. 
 
 It was not for uncle that I felt sorry as he strode up 
 
TEE BLACK EORSE. 33 
 
 to me and laid a hand on my shoulder. Rather I thought 
 irrelevantly of my blistered heels, of Otho's cactus-pierced 
 feet, of Lizzie's ragged dress, of the gaunt, overworked 
 team, and then I looked at Midnight, with the blood drip- 
 ping slowly down his forehead, and my heart burned 
 within me in hot rebellion as uncle, clutching my shoulder 
 in a vise-like grip, repeated: 
 
 " Get that horse and bring him here, instantly !" 
 
 " No," I said again, and I was conscious of a wish that 
 he might know how completely, in my case, no meant no; 
 just that, neither more nor less. 
 
 " You see, Sydney," uncle said, in a curiously calm 
 voice, but tightening his grip, " I've got to break that 
 horse in, and you've got to help, as far as catching him 
 goes. Will you do it?" 
 
 " I will not." 
 
 The blows rained upon me as fast and furious as they 
 had rained on the horse — and I took them with as much 
 stubbornness. He might have killed me, there and then, 
 and I should have made no sign. So much for matching 
 inflexibility of purpose against an uncontrollable temper. 
 
 It was Lizzie, of course, who brought the disgraceful 
 scene to a close — Lizzie and Otho, whose gallant and 
 determined efforts to bite uncle's ankles were, I apprehend, 
 sometimes successful, in spite of an occasional kick that 
 sent him reeling. I received a blow on the head that 
 partially stunned me. As I staggered, nearly falling, I 
 was conscious of a flutter of skirts and of outstretched, 
 appealing hands thrust between me and the man who was 
 beating me; then Lizzie's voice — low, intense and com- 
 manding — came like a restraining hand laid on the tumult 
 of angry passions to curb and silence them. 
 
 " Father, for your own sake, for mine, remember what 
 you are doing ! He was coming to mother, not to you ; 
 he is mother's nephew, not yours !" 
 
 " I am glad of that !" uncle exclaimed, and threw down 
 the stick. 
 
34 THE BLACK HORSE. 
 
 " You have no right to whip Sydney," Lizzie went on. 
 " And the outfit is his, you know it is; we are his guests; 
 he is not ours. If he does not want your horse hitched 
 in with his, he has a right to refuse to help you." 
 
 Brave little Lizzie ! She loved her father dearly, but 
 she had an unconquerable sense of justice. 
 
 " I don't care if the outfit belongs to him fifty times 
 over ! He'll catch that horse before he comes another 
 step with us !" 
 
 As uncle spoke he began picking up the broken bits of 
 rope and tossing them into the wagon. Having finished 
 picking up the harness, he climbed into the wagon and 
 gathered up the lines, and I sat down by the roadside. 
 Then Lizzie, who had again taken her seat? in the wagon, 
 where she sat silently observant, sprang out and came to 
 my side. 
 
 " You will get Midnight and come on, won't you, Syd- 
 ney?" she coaxed, as she knelt in the dust, peering into 
 my face. 
 
 " No, Lizzie, I will not catch that horse for your father 
 to whip again ; he and I have had about enough, I think," 
 I returned, sullenly. 
 
 " But," Lizzie persisted, with a coaxing hand on my 
 shoulder, " you can't stay here alone, this way, Sydney. 
 You have nothing to eat, you and Otho. You wouldn't 
 like him to go hungry, even if you did go hungry your- 
 self." 
 
 " Never mind about us. Your father is calling you ; 
 don't keep him waiting or he may — " I am glad to remem- 
 ber that I had the grace to check myself there and not to 
 add, as was on the tip of my tongue — " whip you." 
 
 In his way — a way that exposed her to many hard- 
 ships — uncle was always kind to Lizzie. Lizzie went back 
 to the wagon in tears, and I kept my station beside the 
 road while the wagon forged slowly ahead. 
 
 From this attitude of dejection I was roused by a gruff 
 bark from Otho, who sat beside me, watchfully observant 
 
I WAS ROUSED BY A GRUFF BARK FROM OTHO. 
 35 
 
36 THE BLACK HORSE. 
 
 of all that passed. Looking up to see what had claimed 
 his attention, I saw Lizzie leaning far out of the end of 
 the wagon waving her handkerchief to me. In one hand 
 she was holding a gun, and, as soon as she saw that she 
 had my attention, she dropped the gun in the road, after 
 it she threw the belt full of cartridges and a package 
 done up in paper. The gun and the cartridges were mine. 
 I walked slowly down the road and picked them up. The 
 little package contained salt and matches. Lizzie had 
 made sure that we need not starve. We were now in 
 a locality where jack rabbits were plentiful; it would be 
 different when the lava was reached. As a matter of fact 
 I understood quite well that Uncle Sumner could have 
 had no real intention of abandoning me; he merely meant 
 to enforce his command. He knew that it would be im- 
 possible for the horses to outwalk me within a reasonable 
 time, should I come on after them, as he confidently 
 expected that I would. It was in that confident expecta- 
 tion that he had made a mistake. 
 
 Having secured the gun and belt, I left the road, turn- 
 ing off into a little gully that led away from the river, 
 for the recollection of the cougar was still strong upon me, 
 and was soon out of sight, though not out of sound, of the 
 road. Then, throwing myself down on the warm sand, 
 I gave myself up to the bitterness and shame that filled my 
 heart. 
 
 Nature's ministrations are gentle. By imperceptible 
 degrees the peaceful silence soothed me. Otho crept close, 
 laying his head on my shoulder, and so, after a long time, 
 we both fell asleep. At least I know that I slept; one 
 could never be quite sure of Otho because, if his eyes 
 were closed, his ears were always alert. Once I was 
 partially roused by his moving and shifting his position, 
 and, half opening my eyes, I saw him sitting with up- 
 raised head, listening intently. Then I, too, heard the 
 faint sound of horses' footfalls in the distant roadway, 
 but there was no sound of a wagon. The footfalls died 
 
THE BLACK HORSE. 37 
 
 away in the distance, taking the same route that the 
 wagon had followed. Glad that we were out of sight, I 
 closed my eyes again; but the passing teamster, traveling 
 without a wagon, had more to do with me than I then 
 knew, for it was undoubtedly Henry Murdock and his 
 horses on their way over to Euclid; I was to hear about 
 him later. 
 
 Our rest on the previous night had been disturbed, and 
 now I slept long and peacefully; it was well for my mental 
 poise that I did. Late in the afternoon I awoke, stiff and 
 sore from the beating that I had had, but, withal, desper- 
 ately hungry. This trouble was soon remedied. Before 
 I was fairly on my feet I saw a rabbit scurrying up the 
 side of the gully, and, a few minutes afterward, that rabbit 
 and another one, both young and both cottontails, were 
 broiling over a greasewood fire, and, when cooked, both 
 were impartially divided between Otho and myself. 
 
 Hunger appeased, I set about preparing camp for the 
 night. I had, by this time, fully made up my mind that 
 I would not go on after the outfit; uncle might keep them 
 if he wished. I had no doubt that Midnight had started 
 back to his old home, so that there were only Otho and 
 myself to consider. In the morning, I decided, I would 
 go on down to Sisters and wait there for an opportunity 
 to get back to Bald City with some returning teamster. 
 
 Behind a pile of rocks jutting out from the side of the 
 gully, I found a clean, little, sheltered nook, almost like 
 a cave. 
 
 " Just the place for us, Otho !" I said, and set about 
 gathering a lot of greasewood and piling it beside the 
 rocks. I knew that, if the cougar should return during 
 the night, he would keep his distance if there was a good 
 fire. Otho helped to the best of his ability by seizing hold 
 of a loose sagebush and dragging it in, depositing it 
 gravely on the pile with mine, and then going back for 
 another. Between us we soon collected a big pile. Then 
 I killed and cooked another rabbit, and, as darkness fell, 
 
38 THE BLACK HORSE. 
 
 we ate our suppers — finding one rabbit quite enough for 
 us both this time. After that we crept in behind the 
 rocks, and, despite my long nap during the day, I was 
 soon sound asleep. I felt perfectly secure in the pro- 
 tection afforded by the fire — which must have died out 
 very soon after I went to sleep — and by Otho, and slept 
 soundly until nearly daybreak. I was roused by a cool, 
 moist touch on my face, a touch that, half sleeping, I yet 
 knew boded no danger, otherwise Otho would have given 
 warning, and opened my eyes to see bending over me the 
 great head, with one bright eye and one obscured eye, 
 of Midnight. 
 
CHAPTFR V. 
 
 1 SPRANG quickly to my feet and put my arms around 
 the big horse's neck ; I was very, very glad to see him, 
 though his coming now made a new complication. It 
 would be impossible for me to return to Bald City from 
 Sisters, as I had planned, until the horse was disposed of, 
 and there was no right way to dispose of him that I 
 could see, but to take him on to uncle. No matter how 
 I might feel in the matter, the horse belonged to uncle 
 and he alone had the right to say what should be done 
 with him. It seemed, too, like a second betrayal to take 
 him on to uncle now, yet it must be done. Things would 
 have settled themselves so much more easily if Midnight 
 had only, as I thought he would, returned to his old home. 
 
 Like a deposed monarch he had been ruthlessly torn 
 from his kingdom. He had been set, too, to learn new, 
 strange ways — ways that, to him, must have seemed lack- 
 ing in good horse-sense and ordinary kindness — and, alien 
 now, because of his acquaintance with bondage, to his 
 free, untrammeled companions of the range, he would not 
 go back to them, even when free to do so. 
 
 That was the way I reasoned it out that morning as 
 I stood up and talked to Midnight; I wanted to believe 
 that he understood when I at length told him : 
 
 " I will try, Midnight, to make it as easy for you as 
 I can, but we must go on after the outfit, and, where uncle 
 is going he would not be allowed to— the law would have 
 something to say about it. I would ask the protection 
 of the law for you another time. And there's Lizzie; 
 no matter how we feel, we ought, I suppose, to consider 
 her, so we'll go on, comrade. They've got a day's .start, 
 but you and I are good walkers, and Lewis and Clark 
 
40 TEE BLACK BORSE. 
 
 may stop again." I had a delicacy in using the word 
 halk, lest Midnight should consider it a personal reflection. 
 
 A bit of rope still hung from Midnight's neck. Taking 
 hold of this I led him to the pool of clear water down the 
 gully. Otho followed and the three of us had a satis- 
 fying drink. Then, starting a fire, I warmed the meat that 
 had been left from our supper on the evening before, 
 dividing, as before, fairly with Otho, and then we resumed 
 our journey. 
 
 The journey differed from our previous journeys in 
 one particular only. I had walked much of the way before 
 this, but never before had it been with a heart so weighted 
 with a sense of injustice and ill-usage, both for the 
 horse and myself. It was not a good nor a helpful 
 frame of mind, and as the day advanced and other things 
 crowded upon me, it gradually lessened and I tried to 
 think of uncle's action without giving way to my first 
 burning, blinding sense of injury and resentment. I even 
 began to speculate on what course I should take if I kept 
 on with uncle to the coast. Of one thing I was certain; 
 I would never stand by and see Midnight abused again. 
 
 I knew, and it was certain that uncle knew it equally 
 well — much better, in fact, since he was an accomplished 
 horseman — that Midnight's action, or, to be strictly accu- 
 rate, inaction, was due to lack of education rather than 
 to any unwillingness to work, and it was a. risky thing at 
 the best to put a powerful unbroken horse in beside a 
 smaller balky one. If he had been with a team that could 
 have taken him along, willing or unwilling, he would 
 have very soon mastered this most essential lesson, too. 
 Even now I believed that Midnight would work for me. 
 
 Long before noon I was desperately hungry. The road 
 now led along the river bank, so, selecting a place where 
 the grass was good, so that Midnight might make sure of 
 his dinner at all events, I got out my fishhook and line — 
 I had made a practice of carrying these in my coat pocket 
 ever since we started out — and with a slender alder branch 
 
MADE READY TO SECURE A FISH DINNER. 
 41 
 
42 TEE BLACK EORSE. 
 
 for a pole, I made ready to secure a fish dinner for myself 
 and Otho. For bait I used an indiscreet grasshopper, and 
 within five minutes a steelhead of not less than two pounds 
 weight was flopping on the grass beside me. 
 
 Two more steelheads fell victims to the same grass- 
 hopper, and, deciding that they were enough, I stopped 
 and prepared them for dinner. 
 
 Then I found that no matter how hungry you may be, 
 you will have difficulty in making yourself believe that 
 broiled fish just garnished with salt is' a very palatable 
 dish. I tried to believe it, but failed, and Otho wouldn't 
 even make a pretense of liking it. He sniffed at his 
 portion, looked reproachfully at me, and then sat down 
 with his back to me, as his way was when offended. 
 
 " Well, old fellow, it's that or nothing," I told him, in 
 extenuation ; and dropping his nose on his paws, he de- 
 clared as plainly as words could have done, that, in his 
 case, it was nothing. 
 
 Midnight, meanwhile, was entirely free. I had taken 
 the rope from his neck, and after looking about specu- 
 latively for a minute or two, he had fallen to grazing 
 with a better appetite than he had displayed since he came 
 into our possession. He looked so strong, so capable and 
 so gentle, that I resolved to try riding him. I had often 
 thought of trying it, but would not do so without uncle's 
 permission, and his manner had not invited me to ask 
 any favors. 
 
 Midnight and I were equally in disgrace now ; it did not 
 much matter, I thought, what either of us did^ and if the 
 horse would carry me I would soon overtake the wagon. 
 If he would not I had faith enough in him to believe that 
 he would manage to notify me of the fact without hurt- 
 ing me. It did not matter in the least that I had no bridle. 
 A bridle would have been useless if he did not choose 
 to obey it; if he did, the rope halter would prove just as 
 serviceable. 
 
 It did ! I got Midnight up beside a rock that was high 
 
THE BLACK HO USE. 43 
 
 enough to enable me to get on his back without any 
 sudden spring, and while Midnight bent his head, watch- 
 ing the performance with calm interest, I slipped from the 
 rock to his back, talking- to him and patting him soothingly 
 the while. He sniffed at my heels and licked my proffered 
 hand, but he did not move, not even when I gently prodded 
 his sides with my heels. 
 
 Indeed, he could not know what I wanted him to do, 
 and I think that he feared to move lest he should hurt 
 me. Otho, however, did not understand these fine points. 
 After one or two futile attempts to induce his big com- 
 panion to move on by barking at him, he flew at Mid- 
 night's heels, nipping them sharply, shepherd-dog fash- 
 ion. That settled it. Involuntarily Midnight stepped 
 forward, and, finding himself unchecked, tossed his head 
 and struck out down the road in a swinging gait which 
 seemed to literaLly eat up the distance. How glorious 
 it was ! I seemed the veriest feather in weight to the 
 magnificent creature that carried me so easily, so securely. 
 Otho trotted along beside the road, now and then looking 
 up at me and giving vent to a short bark of exultation. My 
 only regret was that he could not ride too. I had, how- 
 ever, taken the precaution to make him a set of boots 
 which he wore with a very evident increase of comfort. 
 I had made the boots out of the ragged skirts of my coat. 
 .-. Reaching the little post town of Sisters along in the 
 afternoon, I stopped at the pump beside the little store, 
 which was also the post office, for a drink for the three 
 of us. Having drunk, I mounted Midnight again and was 
 about to go on, when the postmaster, appearing in the 
 store door, called after me : 
 
 " Say, young feller ! Hello, there ! I guess you're him !" 
 
 " I think likely," I returned. It did not seem polite 
 to deny it, since he seemed so sure of it, but I mentally 
 wondered who " him " was. 
 
 The postmaster, walking out to the pump, at once en- 
 lightened me. 
 
44 THE BLACK HORSE. 
 
 " The little girl asked me would I keep watch out for 
 a boy and a dog, leading a big, black horse. That's the 
 biggest and the blackest horse that I've seen for many a 
 day; the only difference is that you ain't leading him." 
 
 " I'm the boy she meant, for all that. Did she leave a 
 message?" 
 
 " Two of 'em. Better light off and come in." But I 
 sat irresolute. After a little consideration I told the 
 postmaster that I was traveling with the outfit that the 
 girl was with; that I had already stayed behind longer 
 than I ought, and would he please deliver the message 
 and let me push on. 
 
 " Oh, you can't overtake that wagon this side of Euclid, 
 where I understand Mr. Logan intended to stop. He said 
 he expected to find letters waiting him there." 
 
 " Yes, he does, but I think I can overtake them," I 
 returned with what, I am afraid, was rather a wistful 
 glance down the road that stretched so interminably before 
 us, for the postmaster hastened to say in a kindly tone: 
 
 " No, you can't ! You see it's this way. Hank Mur- 
 dock — he's foreman of a horse ranch back here — he was 
 going over across to Euclid to get a wagon ; he was riding 
 one of the horses and packing the other — had a complete 
 set of harness in the pack — and Mr. Logan bargained 
 with him to hitch onto his wagon and help snake his outfit 
 over the lava. Jim's got a fine team and they'll yank that 
 wagon over it in about half the time that it would take 
 Mr. Logan's team to make it alone. They waited here 
 a spell to buy some stuff, and while they were getting it 
 and watering the four horses, the little girl she handed 
 me a letter that she'd been writing whilst they were 
 doing it. She didn't have no envelope nor nothing but 
 some wrapping paper to write on, but I put her letter 
 in an envelope and told her I'd watch out for you. It 
 looks as if it was goin' to blow up to rain; you'd better 
 stop here to-night — sha'n't cost you a cent — and start on 
 fresh in the morning." 
 
THE BLACK HORSE. 45 
 
 I glanced up at the clouded sun. It could not have 
 been much past noon. There were still many hours of 
 daylight left and Midnight was not in the least tired. 
 
 " No," I said, " I thank you very much, but I will 
 go on." 
 
 " Well, maybe it's as well. Rain at this season is 
 liable to turn to snow at any hour. I'll bring the letter." 
 His eyes ranged comprehensively over me and my lack 
 of ecjuipment as he turned away. He was gone longer 
 than he need have been, I thought, just to fetch a letter, 
 but a thrill of gratitude pulsed warm through my finger 
 tips when he did appear. 
 
 Over his arm he carried a pair of blankets and a rid- 
 ing bridle; in one hand was Lizzie's letter, in the other 
 a big bundle done up in an empty flour sack. 
 
 " I'm plum' sure you didn't meet up with no stores nor 
 hotels between here and the mouth of the canon," he said 
 genially, " so you can't have much grub on hand. I 
 gathered from what your cousin — she said she was your 
 cousin — " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, I gathered from what she said that you was left 
 behind kind of accidental — accidents will happen in the 
 best regulated countries, and this ain't even one of the 
 best — and as you won't have a chance to get anything 
 again until you've crossed the summit, and got over as far 
 as Lost Creek, I've put up grub enough to last ye until 
 ye get there. I'm thinking it won't take you long with 
 such a fine horse as that under you, but you've got to 
 stop along for him to graze, and you can't overtake the 
 outfit on that account. Hank Murdock and Mr. Logan 
 bought feed enough to last them until they get to Euclid." 
 
 Somewhat embarrassed by my earnest thanks, the post- 
 master reached out a friendly hand to pat Midnight, and 
 Midnight promptly took himself out of reach. 
 
 " Aha ! shy, is he ? He doesn't look as if he had ever 
 been used to working, either !" 
 
46 THE BLACK HORSE. 
 
 " He has not." 
 
 " He's a beauty all right, anyhow. How'd he get that 
 cut over his eye?" 
 , " He — he — got it," I returned weakly. 
 
 " H — um ! yes, yes, I see he did. Well, now, you fold 
 up them blankets and put on him; they won't be so com- 
 fortable as a saddle, but you'll find them a long sight 
 ahead of nothing at all." 
 
 "Oh, but I can't take your blankets, sir! I thank you 
 ever so much for the grub. I am very hungry — I — " 
 
 " Thought you must be." 
 
 " I am, but the blankets — " 
 
 " See here ! you can't miss Hank if you try. There's 
 only one road to Euclid from this on, and if you don't 
 meet up with him coming back you are like to in Euclid; 
 and if you don't do neither, it ain't goin' to break me to 
 lose them blankets and that bridle. If you think it's a 
 'commodation to get 'em, just pass the 'commodation on 
 to the next feller that you meet that's down on his luck. 
 You'll get the chance, all right. Them chances are lay- 
 ing 'round thick in this country. Now, le's see you put 
 the bridle on the horse !" 
 
 This was quickly done. Midnight made not the slight- 
 est objection to anything that I did. He and I were 
 chums. 
 
 When the blankets and bridle were adjusted my kindly 
 friend suggested that a couple of loops in the rope would 
 give a rest for my feet. 
 
 " That's the way lots of Indians ride," he remarked. I 
 knew this to be true. 
 
 When the loops were arranged at the proper length 
 for stirrups, I mounted, and, responding cordially to the 
 postmaster's reiterated good wishes for a safe journey, 
 once more took the road. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 WHEN the little store and its friendly proprietor 
 had been left well behind I took out Lizzie's 
 letter. Our epistolary acquaintance with uncle's 
 family had been entirely through Aunt Annie, and this 
 was the first letter of Lizzie's writing that I had ever seen. 
 It was written on a sheet of coarse, crumpled wrapping 
 paper, and I read it with an aching heart. 
 
 The better to make my meaning clear, when I say that, 
 I will append the letter itself. 
 
 "In tHe wAggIN; dEar siDDeNNY, 
 
 " PA has Got A mAn wHat has got 2 HorSes, they air 
 bRoke, To hiTc on To us aNd taKe uS over tHe mOUn- 
 tAins "— 
 
 Oh, no ! I cannot reproduce the poor little letter in all 
 its deplorable misspelling and chirography. Enough that 
 the lines given are a faithful transcript of the entire let- 
 ter, as far as they go — " I asked pa what would become 
 of you, and he said that there was only one road and you 
 could not miss it, and that if you would come on and behave 
 yourself, all would be forgiven. Dear Sydney, I hope 
 you will come; I feel sorry all the time about you, and I 
 think pa is some sorry, too. I asked him and he said I 
 might write this letter. 
 
 " I wanted him to write because I cannot spell very 
 well. I always wanted to learn to write and spell; ma 
 she taught me how to read and make writing letters, and 
 then I guess she got kind of discouraged because we 
 moved around so many times and never stopped long 
 enough anywhere for me to go to school, for she did not 
 teach me any more after she had taught me that much; 
 that is the reason why I don't spell any better. 
 
 47 
 
48 THE BLACK HORSE. 
 
 " I would not write to anyone but you, for I would be 
 ashamed to. I would be afraid they would laugh at me, 
 but I know you will not. I asked pa if he would wait 
 ibr you when we got to Euclid, and he said that he would. 
 I feel awful bad because you have not got any money or 
 anything to eat. I threw out your gun and cartridges 
 and some salt and matches, and you are a good shot; pa 
 says you are, too. I heard pa and Mr. Murdock — that's 
 the man who is going to help us over the lava — talking 
 about the Forest Reserve. Mr. Murdock says it begins 
 two miles beyond the store where I am going to leave 
 this letter for you. 
 
 " I shall miss you very much if you do not come on, 
 and I think pa will, too, because he said I might write, 
 and when the wagon jiggled so that I could not make 
 the letters, he stopped the team and waited for me, and 
 when Mr. Murdock said, 'what was we stopping for?' pa 
 told him that I wanted to leave a note for one of the 
 outfit who had been left behind a piece. 
 
 " Mr. Murdock said that nobody could help knowing 
 when they got to the Forest Reserve, because there was 
 a great big notice printed on cloth and nailed to a tree 
 beside the road. The notice says, ' Warning ! Forest 
 Fires !' and it is all in big letters that tell what will be 
 done to you if you set fire to the woods, and when you 
 come to that tree I want you to stop and look behind that 
 cloth warning, where it is nailed to the tree. 
 
 " When you get what I am going to put there, I want 
 you to trade it off for something to eat, for I feel awful 
 bad about you, Sydney, and I know you will not laugh 
 at me because I cannot spell any better, so no more at 
 present, from your cousin Lizzie." 
 
 Laugh at her — dear Lizzie of the gentle heart! Boy 
 as I was, and scornful in true boyish fashion of all show 
 of emotion, I yet was not ashamed of the tears that, as 
 I read, fell on the pathetic little letter, adding materially 
 to its already disreputable appearance. 
 
THE BLACK HORSE. 49 
 
 " Midnight and Otho, you two bear witness," I said, 
 raising my hand and speaking to my two companions, as 
 I refolded the letter and replaced it in my pocket : " Lizzie 
 has got to have a chance to go to school; she's got to 
 have it, somehow, even if I have to sit up nights to do 
 the housework." 
 
 I had hardly made the declaration when, raising my 
 eyes, I saw a large white placard nailed conspicuously to 
 the big tree on my right, and but a few steps in advance. 
 In large letters, too, the placard proclaimed: 
 
 " Warning ! Forest Fires !" 
 
 We were entering the eastern border of the great Forest 
 Reserve. Springing from Midnight's back, I ran to the 
 tree. The placard, as I stood on the ground beside it, 
 was above my head. Lizzie could by no means have 
 reached it from that vantage, but I had sufficient faith 
 in her ingenuity to believe that she would find some way 
 of overcoming that difficulty. Indeed, it was easy to see 
 that there really was something, some small article tucked 
 out of sight underneath its lower edge. Securing a stout 
 stick and resting one end against the tree, I stepped upon 
 it, and thrusting my hand under the placard, soon had the 
 article in my hand. It was the gold nugget that the cattle- 
 man had given Lizzie two nights before. 
 
 " If Lizzie is willing, this will be our first start toward 
 a school fund," I informed Otho, who had been watching 
 and assisting with his usual whole-hearted eagerness. 
 
 There was something like thirty-five miles to traverse 
 before we came to another dwelling, and five of the 
 thirty were through the crater of an extinct volcano. 
 
 I was riding a powerful horse who was proving himself 
 to be a remarkably fast walker; I had a gun, ammunition, 
 and, thanks again to the postmaster, food and blankets. 
 If the weather held ! Already the sun was hidden by the 
 thickening clouds and the strong wind had a smell of rain. 
 
 The tall trees among which the road now wound — 
 giants of the Reserve, well worthy to be safeguarded by 
 
THE PLACARD WAS ABOVE MY HEAD. 
 50 
 
TEE BLACK HO'RSE. 51 
 
 law and vigilant watchfulness — bent, swaying and creak- 
 ing and tossing their great branches wildly in the hurry- 
 ing blast. I wanted, if I could, to reach some open spot 
 before camping for the night; some spot where the 
 crowding trees fell back far enough to admit of an unob- 
 structed view of the sky. 
 
 Finally I decided to stop for the night where a tiny 
 rivulet stole across the road and out of sight, as if in 
 undue haste to be gone. Along the borders of the little 
 stream was a scanty growth of pine grass on which Mid- 
 night might graze, and I feared that we might not come 
 to a better spot soon. But the locality was undoubtedly 
 gloomy. The trees grew close together and very tall, and 
 the trunks and branches — how very tall and massive those 
 trunks grew before they sent out any branches ! — were 
 thickly draped with long, swaying tufts and streamers of 
 black moss. Not the gray Spanish moss of the Southern 
 forests, but a fine, thread-like black moss that, hanging 
 from the branches in countless strands, and whipping in 
 the wind, bore a terrible likeness to human hair. My 
 depression was intensified, rather than lightened, by the 
 one evidence of human interest that stared at me from 
 three different trees. 
 
 This was the fire warning. The warning, couched in 
 commanding terms, and the stern threat of punishment 
 should one be guilty of disobeying it, fixed my thoughts 
 most unpleasantly on the subject of forest fires. Trav- 
 elers were not forbidden to build fires for their own use, 
 but explicit directions were given as to how they should 
 be built and the precautions that should be taken in ex- 
 tinguishing them. I turned Midnight loose, in return for 
 which favor he simply stood and looked at me, then I 
 went to the nearest tree and read, for the fifth or sixth 
 time — for the warnings were posted thickly all along the 
 route — the directions for building fires. The directions 
 were clear and explicit. 
 
 So I carefully scraped away the leaves and pine cones, 
 
52 THE BLACK HORSE. 
 
 leaving a clean pit of sand, in the center of which I built 
 a frugal little blaze, and impaling a chunk of the meat 
 on a sharpened stick, held it in the blaze until it began 
 to smoke. I was so absorbed in watching both meat and 
 fire, that for the moment I noticed nothing else, and 
 bounded back as if shot when a calm voice observed: 
 
 " Wait till the fire has burned down a little ; you'll spoil 
 your supper at that rate." 
 
 Looking up, I encountered the amused glance of a pair 
 of very bright eyes; the eyes belonged to a tall young 
 man dressed from head to foot in a well-worn suit of 
 khaki, and were regarding me with more interest than 
 approval. I withdrew the meat, as suggested, and waited, 
 while the young man remarked: 
 
 " Isn't it rather risky, starting a fire in such a gale as 
 this ?" 
 
 Instinctively I glanced toward the tree where a placard 
 still gleamed faintly white in the gathering dusk. 
 
 " I've complied with the regulations — " I was beginning, 
 when the stranger, who had now stepped forward into 
 the full glow of the firelight, interrupted: 
 
 " Yes ; I see you have. Finish your .supper now and 
 put the fire out !" 
 
 His authoritative tone nettled me for a moment, but 
 the advice that he gave me was good, and while I has- 
 tened to comply with it, I had an illumination. 
 
 "Are you the forest ranger, sir?" 
 
 "There are several of them; I am one. It isn't our 
 usual custom to patrol the forest so late in the day, but 
 there's always danger in such a wind as, this, and while 
 I was getting ready to camp back here, 1 smelled smoke 
 and trailed you down — " he broke off abruptly with an un- 
 easy look around and into the forest, and presently went 
 on: 
 
 "It doesn't seem as if your little handful of fire could 
 have made such an unusually pervading smell. How long 
 have you been here?" 
 
THE BLACK HORSE. 53 
 
 "Not very long; twenty minutes, maybe — just long 
 enough to scrape off this." 
 
 " It was longer ago than that that I smelled smoke. I 
 am stopping at a cabin back here, and it was nearly an 
 hour ago that I caught the smell." 
 
 " I thought there were no houses this side of the lava," 
 I ventured. 
 
 " There are no occupied houses. This cabin and the 
 clearing around it was here before the government set 
 aside the forest for a reservation. There's a large clear- 
 ing around the cabin and a little lake near it; the lake's 
 full of trout." He had been helping me to stamp out the 
 last spark of fire as he talked. That done, he straight- 
 ened up, standing still in an attitude of attentive listening. 
 
 " The wind is blowing such a gale that one can hear 
 nothing else, and the clouds are so black it's difficult to 
 determine whether they are clouds or — your horse seems 
 uneasy," he concluded, with an abrupt change of voice. 
 
 It was true. Midnight had not taken to grazing as I 
 wished, but he and Otho were both keeping close to me. 
 
 " There's another danger than that of fire to be reck- 
 oned on, here in the forest, in this wind," the ranger 
 remarked. 
 
 "What is that?" I inquired uneasily, though, looking 
 at the bending, groaning trees, I could have given a pretty 
 accurate guess as to what it was. 
 
 " From falling trees. There, hear that ! It was pretty 
 near here," the ranger observed. " Such high winds 
 as this are extremely rare in the forest; when they do 
 occur the timber, in places, is mowed down by the acre." 
 
 " Why is that, I wonder ?" 
 
 " In such places the trees are growing in soil that, 
 though rich enough to nourish them, is scarcely more than 
 a thin layer spread over underlying rocks. Pick up your 
 things and come over to the cabin with me. It is about 
 a mile down the road. You will be safe there, as you are 
 not here." 
 
54 THE BLACK HORSE. 
 
 He was a masterful young man and had no notion of 
 waiting for any formal acceptance. Immediately be was 
 thrusting the remnants of my supper back into the flour 
 sack, which he knotted securely, while I fastened the 
 blankets in place on Midnight. Then, in spite of the 
 occasion for haste, which I perfectly understood was not 
 all on account of the falling trees, for the smell of burn- 
 ing wood was strong on the air, though neither of us 
 had again referred to it, I stopped to observe a very curi- 
 ous phenomenon. Borne far above the tree tops, racing 
 on the wings of the wind, rather than on their own, was 
 r. scattering flight of crimson fireflies ; I had never seen 
 so many together before, nor of such a crimson hue. 
 
 " What are you waiting for?" the ranger demanded, 
 sharply, as I stood with upraised face, watching them. 
 
 "Why, those fireflies; I never saw — " 
 
 " You'll never see again if you don't look out. The 
 fire is upon us; quick, on to your horse and follow me 
 for your life !" 
 
 I was on Midnight's back in an instant, and then, in 
 the half light, I caught the shine of Otho's eyes, watch- 
 ing me. Otho's feet were sore, and Midnight was fleet. 
 
 " Here !" I said, thickly, for I was trembling with 
 terror, though the ranger seemed perfectly self-possessed, 
 " lift my dog up to me ; the horse must carry both of us, 
 or neither." 
 
 " Right !" he caught Otho by the scruff of the n£ck and 
 swung him lightly into my arms. " Here !" he said, and 
 thrust the gun into my hands. Encumbered as he was 
 with the sack of provisions and the cartridge belt, the 
 ranger gave a leap that landed him fairly on Midnight's 
 back, just behind me. 
 
 " Into the road — now, go !" The last word was a 
 shout enforced by a sudden thrust of both feet into Mid- 
 night's sides — and Midnight went! 
 
 It had been less than one minute since I stopped to 
 look at the fireflies, but already cinders, burning leaves 
 
THE BLACK HOUSE. 55 
 
 and fragments of flaming branches were flying through 
 the air and falling around and ahead of us, and the dark 
 forest was being strangely illurninated. 
 
 "Keep to the road; never mind if the fire is in it!" 
 cried the ranger in my ear. But, indeed, Midnight showed 
 no disposition to leave the beaten track. Had he been 
 so inclined, I should have been powerless to prevent it. 
 
 About a mile farther down the road, the ranger had 
 said. The fire was behind us and coming straight on 
 on both sides of the road. It came fast ! fast ! There 
 was such a terrific wind. No doubt, as is usual in such 
 conflagrations, the fire itself set strong currents of air 
 in motion, and these combined with the gale. We were 
 going at a speed that literally tore the breath from my 
 lips, when, above the roar of the wind and the advancing 
 fire, I caught the shrill, sibilant whistle, almost a shriek — 
 a sound that carries, always, an underlying note of 
 despair— of a great tree as it fell, rushing through the 
 air to crash helplessly on the earth. 
 
 " Close call !" the ranger cried in my ear, and I bent 
 my head 4ow so that, without turning around, and thus 
 disturbing my grasp on Otho, I could look back. A great 
 tree, uprooted by the wind, had fallen and lay squarely 
 across the road, behind us. 
 
 " It was an even chance whether we should be smashed 
 or burned, that time/' the ranger commented; and now, 
 by the light of the all-sufficient fire, I caught sight of a 
 wide, open, treeless space. 
 
 " Turn to the left I" the ranger cried ; and in another 
 second we were safe beside the tenantless cabin. 
 
 I slid Otho carefully down Midnight's shoulder to the 
 ground, and then sprang down beside the ranger, who 
 was gazing silently at the magnificent spectacle of the 
 great pine forest shrieking and writhing in a whirlwind 
 of fire. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE fire circled so swiftly around the clearing that 
 we were, for a few minutes, encompassed on all 
 sides with veritable walls of flame. 
 
 We were quite safe, though a shower of blazing frag- 
 ments fell over what had been a plowed field; they 
 burned harmlessly and the cabin itself was untouched. 
 
 " God be thanked, there's no one camping between this 
 and the lava !" the ranger said at last. At the words, 
 my heart gave a sick throb of terror. " Oh, but there 
 may be ! My uncle — " I stopped. The ranger turned 
 his attentive eyes from the forest to my face. 
 
 " What do you mean ?" 
 
 I explained. 
 
 " Two men, four horses and a young girl in the outfit, 
 you say? Well set your mind at rest. I met that outfit 
 fifteen miles beyond the lava early this morning, just as 
 they were starting out from the camp shed at Lost Creek. 
 They are, by this time, well beyond any possible danger 
 from this fire, even if it should run so far, as it will 
 not. It has not far to go now, to reach the lava, but it 
 will stop there, and it will not circle around the lava, for — 
 see !" He held up his hand, smiling faintly as two or 
 three drops of rain splashed upon it. 
 
 " Come inside," he said, throwing open the cabin door. 
 " There's going to be a heavy shower, and it will settle 
 this fire business in short order." 
 
 " I'll put Midnight around here at the back, where he'll 
 be sheltered from the wind first," I said, and started to 
 lead him around. The ranger went with me. 
 
 "Midnight, do you call him? He's well named! If 
 he had been much less fleet of foot than the highest of 
 midnight winds, you and I wouldn't be standing here 
 
 56 
 
THE BLACK HORSE. 57 
 
 talking about him now. How did you come to get hold 
 of such a magnificent creature?" 
 
 Now I was, in those days, a very lonely boy. The forest 
 ranger — a bright-eyed, intelligent, kindly-speaking man, 
 not so far beyond me in years that he might be supposed 
 to have outgrown all boyish sympathies — and I had but 
 just narrowly escaped a dreadful death together, and, 
 somehow, when we were inside the cabin, with a bright 
 fire blazing on the long-disused hearth, and the rain beat- 
 ing a welcome tattoo on the cabin roof, I told him all 
 about it. 
 
 " And that's how you came by Midnight ?" the ranger 
 said, thoughtfully, as I concluded my recital. For a long 
 time he said no more. When he did speak his first words 
 sounded exceedingly irrelevant. 
 
 " I like my business. I like it, and am so well regarded 
 in it that even such a calamity as this fire to-night will not 
 weigh against me. If it had occurred in the district of 
 some rangers it would be considered sufficient cause for 
 dismissal. Climatic conditions and the irresponsible act 
 of some careless camper will serve to justify me, as it 
 should any other, but I am not speaking of justice simply. 
 It is because I love the work and am known to be careful 
 in it, that I am trusted; but, if I was not entirely alone in 
 the world, if there were any to whom I could feel that 
 I owed a duty, I would leave this to be with them. I 
 have been in Australia, New Zealand, Patagonia, Africa — 
 in half the out-of-the-way corners of the earth — and the 
 one vital fact that I have learned, from all my wander- 
 ings, is that there is nothing on earth so good for man 
 or boy, woman or maid, as — a home ! Just a home, Syd- 
 ney. Some place where you may take root and grow 
 to be yourself. Your first mistake, apparently, was in 
 placing yourself in the hands of a man whose tastes and 
 aspirations are totally different from your own. The 
 whipping that you received was unjustifiable, yet such 
 an act might be safely counted upon from such a man 
 
I TOLD HIM ALL ABOUT IT. 
 
 58 
 
THE BLACK HORSE. 59 
 
 under such circumstances. The circumstances were most 
 irritating, and it is evident that he is lacking in self- 
 control, and that he has not the feeling for our animal 
 friends that you possess. But I would judge that he is, 
 nevertheless, an honest man. You say that your money 
 paid for the horses and wagon ; there was a bill of sale 
 given with them, no doubt?" 
 
 " Oh, yes." 
 
 " Was it made out to him ?" 
 
 " No ; to me." 
 
 "That proves my theory; he is an honest man, or he 
 would most certainly have had that bill made out to 
 himself. You would have made no objection to that, 
 would you?" 
 
 I was fain to confess that I would, not, as I was far too 
 ignorant of business usages to understand the value of 
 such a document. 
 
 " And that brings me to another point, Sydney. I read 
 something the other day in which a certain well-known 
 writer states, as a fact too patent for question, ' Youth 
 is always uncharitable.' There's a good deal of truth in 
 the statement, but I think it needs shading. In your 
 case I would advise the exercise of a little charity toward 
 Mr. Logan. You say that you will leave him and strike 
 out for yourself as soon as you turn the horse over to 
 him. There's where you are wrong. It's a sad thing 
 to me when, for some fancied or real slight, a boy is will- 
 ing and eager to forget all the ties that should be con- 
 sidered binding, and leave home and kindred to ' strike 
 out for himself !' If the striking out is with the consent 
 and approval of his parents, all right; he is doing some- 
 thing to be commended. Without it, he is doing them a 
 wrong. Of course this does not apply in your case. Mr. 
 Logan is, as you say, no kin of yours; yet he was your 
 mother's sister's husband, and you owe him fair consid- 
 eration on that account. I would even urge, Sydney, 
 that, in his case, you go so far as to cultivate ' the great- 
 
60 THE BLACK HORSE. 
 
 est of these.' It is not for nothing that charity is so 
 designated, and perhaps it is a good deal to expect 
 a young fellow like you to begin, straight off, to live up 
 to the teaching of the greatest of all the virtues. You. 
 have asked my advice; yet you say at once that you shall 
 leave this unfortunate little family to their own devices 
 as soon as you can rid yourself of the property that has 
 had sufficient faith in your kindness of heart to put itself 
 into your hands. Now, to conclude my homily," — he 
 turned to me with a smile that showed a flash of white 
 teeth — " don't leave your uncle — yet. Wait until the way 
 is clear; your cousin needs you now, if your uncle does 
 not. Wait and be patient; some way will be opened by 
 which you can do what is best for yourself and yet do 
 right; the right way isn't to sneak out of unpleasant 
 reponsibilities. And — don't be afraid to ask for the right 
 direction from Him who alone can give it. That is all." 
 
 " And it seems very sensible, too," I ventured. 
 
 The ranger laughed pleasantly. " I am glad you think 
 so, since it encourages me to hope that you will act upon 
 the advice I have given you." 
 
 The rain had ceased when, early the next morning, I 
 parted from the ranger, at the door of the cabin, as from 
 a cherished friend, and took my way alone. 
 
 I crossed the lava and passed the famous Windy Point 
 without difficulty. Windy Point I found to be worthy 
 of its name. 
 
 Evening found us at McKenzie High Bridge, where 
 there is a good camp shed, and here we passed the night. 
 Soon after leaving, the next morning, we met a man 
 coming up the road — after passing the lava it was virtu- 
 ally down hill all the way to Euclid — driving a big, com- 
 petent-looking team attached to a wagon of like descrip- 
 tion. Before I got within speaking distance of the man 
 it struck me that there was something oddly familiar in 
 the look of the wagon. When we got closer there was no 
 mistaking it — it was our wagon. I stopped and looked 
 
THE BLACK HORSE. 61 
 
 questioningly at the driver, who instantly stopped his 
 team and greeted me cordially, springing from the wagon 
 to offer me a hearty handshake. 
 
 "You're young Sydney Lockwood, I take it?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Yes, of course. No mistaking that horse, or the dog. 
 How are you, Otho ? Miss Lizzie told me about you, sir ! 
 Well, how goes it, Sydney?" 
 
 His friendly blue eyes regarded me inquiringly. 
 
 " First-rate," I replied, smiling. I had been thinking 
 deeply of the forest ranger's advice. 
 
 " That's good ! We felt terribly uneasy about you last 
 night, when we saw that fire blazing beyond the lava. 
 Your uncle allowed that you would be walking and might 
 be in the forest; he was terribly uneasy, but he had to 
 hide it from the little girl; guess she'd 'a' gone plumb 
 crazy if she'd 'a' suspected there was any danger. She's 
 set on the back of the load and watched for you to come 
 along ever since I hitched on. Your uncle said you'd be 
 walking, but it seems you're riding." 
 
 " Yes ; will you tell me, please, how you come to have 
 that wagon?" 
 
 Murdock laughed. " This wagon ? Why, I bought it 
 of your uncle. He said, by the way, that you had a claim 
 on it, but that you wouldn't object to his selling it." 
 
 "No." 
 
 " He's disbanded, so to speak. Seems he was p'intin' 
 for a place over on the coast, some place where he'd got 
 a chance to do some surveyin' ; and, when he got to Euclid, 
 he found letters tellin' him not to come. The contract 
 had been let to another party." 
 
 " Oh, that's too bad !" 
 
 "No, it ain't; leastways, your uncle don't think so. 
 Seems it's a big comp'ny, an' they want him, now, to go 
 down into lower California to take charge of some work 
 there. I didn't just git the rights of it, but your uncle, 
 he's anxious to go. He's just waitin' for you to git in. 
 
f>2 THE BLACK HORSE. 
 
 He's got a good offer for the team, but he says he couldn't 
 give a clean bill of sale of them until you come; it don't 
 make any difference 'bout such a thing as a wagon ; but, 
 when it comes to sellin' horses, that's another matter." 
 
 How confidently they had counted on my coming ! 
 What a blow to both it would have been had I failed them ! 
 And for this we all were indebted to Midnight ! 
 
 I had slipped from Midnight's back and was stripping 
 off blankets and bridle as Murdock talked. Murdock took 
 the articles and bestowed them carefully in the back of 
 the wagon. 
 
 " Bill Smith, he's a good feller!" he remarked, approv- 
 ingly, when I told him how I came to have the things. 
 " You can git along all right the rest of the way ; you'll 
 be into Euclid before supper-time. ' That horse looks as if 
 he could walk." 
 
 " He can, and run, too !" And I told him about our 
 escape from the fire. 
 
 " We all of us owe a good deal to our horses," he re- 
 marked, by way of comment. 
 
 Tt was not three o'clock of that same day when Mid- 
 night, Otho and I were going down the principal street 
 of Euclid. I had neglected to ask Murdock where I should 
 look for uncle, and was casting about in my mind for some 
 possible clue to his whereabouts, when I suddenly caught 
 sight of him standing in front of the post office. He saw 
 me at the same time, and hurried out into the street to 
 meet me. 
 
 Midnight was taken to a livery stable, and then I went 
 with uncle to complete the sale of the horses, Lewis and 
 Clark. This done, we went to the little hotel, where 
 Lizzie was awaiting my arrival. She took my reappear- 
 ance quite as a matter of course. 
 
 "I knew you'd come on ! You couldn't have the heart 
 to desert us, Sydney." 
 
 " Separation isn't desertion," uncle told her. Then, as 
 she left the room, he proceeded to outline his plans to me. 
 
THE BLACK HORSE. C3 
 
 It was a relief to find that I was not included in them. 
 
 " It's a venture at the best," uncle said, truly enough, 
 " and I don't think you would like the country, either. 
 You don't understand Spanish, for one thing," he con- 
 tinued, " and the labor employed is mostly Mexican. 
 I speak the language and Lizzie can learn." 
 
 " Yes, Lizzie can learn," I agreed ; for that was a point 
 that I meant to enlarge upon later. 
 
 " I do not intend to imply that you cannot learn, Syd- 
 ney." 
 
 " I know you do not, Uncle Sumner. I think that I 
 understand you fully, and I do not wish to go." 
 
 " I am relieved to hear you say it. Perhaps— in fact, I 
 know — I haven't done right by you, Sydney, and you have 
 been a good boy — faithful in all respects. I am sorry that 
 — but we'll drop that. What I am going to say is this : 
 I need the money that the sale of the horses and wagon 
 has brought; I can do nothing without it, for, if I am 
 to take this position, I must go at once." 
 
 " I want you to take it, uncle ; I should never feel right, 
 under the circumstances, if you did not." 
 
 " Thank you. Now, as to Midnight. I ought to have 
 left the management of him to you from the first, because 
 you can do anything with him and I can do nothing. I 
 shall pay you for Lewis and Clark just as soon as I can 
 spare the money, so it is not on that account that I say 
 Midnight is yours. I understand that there is an excellent 
 opening right here in Euclid for an express and delivery 
 business, and you can easily get hold of a wagon and 
 harness to begin with. How does that idea strike you?" 
 he continued. 
 
 " I am very grateful to you, uncle." 
 
 " I am the more glad to hear you say it because, on 
 the whole, I can't flatter myself that I have acted in a 
 way to establish any great claim to gratitude from you. 
 Now, when Lizzie and I go — " 
 
 " But, if you please, uncle, there is something that I 
 
64 THE BLACK HORSE. 
 
 very much wish to say. It is about my cousin Lizzie." 
 
 "Yes?" Uncle looked at me in evident surprise, but 
 I had found my tongue now, and used it to beg him to send 
 Lizzie to some good school, instead of taking her with 
 him. At first he ridiculed the idea. It ended in my hand- 
 ing him Lizzie's letter. He read it, turned it slowly over 
 and over in his hands, as if thinking deeply, and then he 
 asked, " May I keep this?" 
 
 " Why, certainly," I replied, somewhat surprised at 
 the request. 
 
 " You see," he said, as he carefully folded the letter 
 and put it in his pocket, " I've never been parted from my 
 little girl; it will be rather of a hard experience. Some- 
 times, if it seems too hard, I can take this out and look 
 at it; then I shall be strong enough to endure a separation 
 that corrects this. Lizzie shall go to school, Sydney." 
 
 Uncle went from California to Mexico in the service 
 of the company that first employed him, and is now in a 
 good position and a valued employe. I think that he 
 cherishes some secret notion of sending Lizzie to college, 
 and she is bright and ambitious enough to make it well 
 worth his while to give her such an opportunity. 
 
 Midnight, Otho and I are still in the express and de- 
 livery business. Midnight's fame has gone abroad; every- 
 body knows and respects the beautiful, wise black horse, 
 and more than one has tried to buy him. One man offered 
 me a thousand dollars for him; he wanted him for a 
 carriage horse, but Midnight and I are satisfied with his 
 career just as it is, and we are earning money. But I 
 could not have purchased the bit of land adjoining town, 
 the first practical step toward the establishment of the 
 home that my friend, Victor Arnold, the forest ranger, 
 talked of, had it not been for the money that Uncle 
 Sumner sent in payment for the outfit he had sold. 
 
 THE % END