CHAPTER XIXHAPPENINGS BY THE WAY
Presentation civilities were cut short. Dennis wheeled round, then became motionless. For a moment he had left his new horse to its own self, carelessly dropping the bridle, as he slipped off its back—a fact none observed save the broncho himself. He did; and when a fitting moment arrived he flung up his heels and was off, over the plain.
For poor Dennis it was a swift and bitter descent from the height of joy to the depth of woe. His grief was almost tragic, and Mr. Burnham had to look away from the face under thesombrero, it was so wholly Irish and un-Mexican.
“Me horse! Me horse! Och! But I’m undone. Sure, ’tis not I can walk all the way to them mountains beyant. Me horse! Me horse!”
“Dennis dear, you shall have the burro back.Don’t you worry about walking. Though I’m sorry the broncho ran away,” said Carlota soothingly, and slipped from “Connemara” before the other could prevent.
“Burro—be bothered!”
“Why—Dennis!”
“Beggin’ yer pardon, me dear; but after all the money I’ve spent on the beast. Ochone! Arrah musha, the day!”
The trackman was grievously disappointed. Of what use his fine attire if he must return to walking the rails? As for going to the mines, unmounted, he would never do that; and he would travel barefoot anywhere rather than take the gift he had made.
“Connemara, is it? His legs is too short an’ mine is too long. They’d drag on the ground, so they would.”
Carlota ceased to argue the matter. Her attention and that of the others had been called to Carlos who, upon the broncho’s flight, had not wasted breath upon anybody but had set off in instant pursuit. “As swift as an arrow.” He had been trained by an Indian and could run like one. As he sped over it, his moccasined feet scarcely touched the ground, and his lithebody seemed poised as lightly as a bird’s in its flight. As he ran his sister cried exultantly:
“See Carlos! Oh! see Carlos! He’ll catch him! He will—he will!”
She clapped her hands, lustily. Her eyes shone and her cheeks flushed. It was impossible to look at her and not share her enthusiasm.
“Oh! I haven’t seen him run like that since the last Easterfiesta. Then there were such races! But he won them nearly all. My father says there can be no muscles better trained than my brother’s, if he cares to exerter—exercise—them. See! See! He has hisriata.[11]He will throw it. He gains—he gains!”
He might have succeeded in any case but this particular broncho was less swift than vicious. Also, he was burdened by a lot of useless trappings, which irritated and hindered him, and this was in Carlos’s favor.
The whole cavalcade had stopped when Dennis rode up to join it, but Mr. Burnham now directed Jack to go forward.
“Keep to the road, son, in the way the runaway took. I meant to go straight north, toward that first range, but this affair alters ourcourse for the present. Dennis, if you’re tired, climb in here with us; or ride one of the team, as you choose.”
“Sure, ’tis neither ridin’ nor drivin’ I’ll be doin’ the now. Hold! I declare that’s the smartest cleverest one in the world! See! See the speed of him! He’s winnin’—he’s winnin’, the little gossoon!”
The Irishman was again radiant. A contest of any sort was “victuals an’ drink” to him. He made Carlota remount Connemara, and marched along beside her, “as stiff as he was stout,” yet growing more and more excited.
“Theriata! Theriata! How glad I am he took it, and he had nothing else except his own nimble feet!” cried Carlota, in pride at the prowess of her twin.
“Yes, I know, I know. He wasn’t like some, so he wasn’t, more boast nor boost,” rejoined Dennis, casting a disdainful glance upon Jack, who was booted and spurred in a manner only second to his own, though the lad’s regalia was extremely “second-hand” and had mostly been acquired by methods which would have greatly displeased his parents.
At this, Carlota turned her gaze from herbrother to Jack, with that surprised expression that always disconcerted him, and, for the first time, fully observed his attire. Then she demanded:
“Why, boy, what are you going to fight? A bowie knife—a pair of rusty pistols—a gun! How an Apache, or a wild cat, would run if he saw you! But look! Carlos has caught the broncho—he surely has!”
This was so, and attention now centered upon the approaching victor of the race.
“A lad is swifter than a horse!” cried the sister, waving hersombreroin congratulation to her brother.
They speedily met and, leaping down from the now subdued animal, Carlos handed the bridle to Dennis, saying:
“There, good friend! That saves your walking.”
“Thanks to ye, me boy! Sure, you’re the slick smartest one ever lived. You’re quite fit to be brother to your sister, so ye be, an’ that’s more’n I could say for aught other young body I know,” with another meaning glance in Jack’s direction.
But, just then, that youth had no attentionfor the trackman. He was curiously examining Carlos’sriata. He had always aspired to be a cowboy, and believed that a first step toward this exalted state would be by the use of a lasso. So he asked:
“Will you show me that trick, Carlos? Do it and I’ll give you one of my ‘irons;’ and if you’ll sell me the lariat I’ll give you my jack-knife.”
Carlos had never heard of “swapping.” Rather surprised, he looked up and promptly replied:
“Of course I’ll show you—if I can. It’s not much to do. You just throw it, you know, and it does the rest of the work.”
“Yes, I see. It’s easy, real easy. I could do it myself if I wanted to. I just thought, maybe, you’d like to show me. Might make you feel as if—as if—” Jack stammered and stopped. He had been ready to add: “as if you were of some use in our family;” but reflected that the remark would have offended his hospitable parents.
“As if what?” asked Carlos, when Jack hesitated, confused.
“Oh! nothing. If you don’t want to youneedn’t, Mr. Throw-a-rope. I can trade with some other fellow. Likely we’ll meet a cowboy before night, anyway.”
Carlos laughed.
“His lasso is the last thing any cowboy will part with. It is his most useful possession and he often spends large sums of money on it. Avaquerogave my father one that is worth—Oh! a fabulous price. We keep it in a place of honor in the hall, for it’s made of the finest horsehair from thoroughbred stock, and has bands of silver where the lengths are joined, every little way. It is beautiful, and so slender you can hold it all in your palms.”
“You won’t swap this, then?”
“I couldn’t. It was a gift and nobody sells a gift, but you may use it all you wish.”
“How can I, if you carry it all the time?”
“Sure enough! But wait. Some time, soon, I’ll tell you why I can’t let you have it just yet—even as a loan.”
Dennis was now on the broncho’s back, and Carlos ran alongside to give the inexperienced horseman a few hints that were useful.
“Sure, an’ I s’pose you’ve always been a-horseback,me boy?” asked the grateful and admiring fellow.
“Nearly. I’ve never walked when I could ride, and when I’ve walked I’ve always run! So that’s an Irish speech for you, Dennis.”
“Carlos shall ride Connemara quite half the time,” said Carlota, who had joined them and who felt sorry that her brother was not, also, mounted.
“Ride a burro? After Benoni? Well, no, indeed! Burros are nice for girls, though even you, Carlota—”
He paused as she warningly shook her head but Dennis had no attention for anything except his broncho and was himself getting on very well. His pride in his skill and his accoutrements increased and the twins dropped behind to have a little “talk.”
Carlota had noticed a look on her brother’s face that she did not like and promptly asked:
“What’s the matter, Carlos dear?”
“Nothing.”
“You are unhappy. Tell me, darling.”
“It’s that boy, Jack. He makes me feel—feel—he’s so boastful over those old pack-horses,that we’d turn out in the field to die at home, Carlota?”
“Yes, dear.”
“Everybody but me is mounted.”
“You may have the whole of Connemara. I’ll ride in the big ‘schooner’.”
“I want you not to tell anybody—any single person—but I’m going to get myself a horse, a beauty!”
“How?”
“I’m going to catch a wild horse from a herd I saw. But don’t say one word to the others till I come riding up on its back. I’ll lag behind now and nobody will notice when I slip over the plain.”
“Oh! I hate to have you go! There’s nobody here who is my very own except you, Carlos, heart of my life.”
“But I’m coming back—in an hour or two.”
“My father went away. Are you going to the ‘north’ as he did, brother?”
“A little way ‘north,’ and you’re to tell nobody till I come riding back on a new Benoni. Now,Adios, niña![12]Watch out for me—thus!”
He waved his arms above his head, kissed his finger tips to her as Miguel would have done, and darted northward. She watched him through her tears and with a sinking heart, yet tried to remember his promise: “In an hour or two.” Then she rejoined the others and kept a faithful “watch out” all that long day; but even when the sun went down her brother had not returned.