New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1891-01-07
a Ride on the Prairie.

a Ride on the Prairie.
Speaking of riding, rs said the colo.
mel, as reported in the New York Tri-
bune, there is only one horse in the
world thatcan carry 16O pounds on
his back all day at q clipping gait,
and that's a mustang. A mustang
would rather run than eat oats
You can't kill one of them, and, as
for firing him, it's no use to try. I
remember a little rice which made
once in Colorado. I had been in
charge of the old mans cattle camp,
! and got one of those insane notions
into my head that wanted to go to
Denver. [ made up an excuse that
the old man had sent for me to come
to Denver to see about driving in a
thousand head. and slipping into my
saddle, turned my mustangs head
toward the railroad ninety miles
away, and let the little rat make his
own pace. When I reached the rail
road l put up my mustang and
boarded the first train for Denver.
II hadn't been in the town thirty
minutes before I met Sam Wilson,
who always staid in Denver with
the old man"
"'Hullo! What are you doing
here?' he said.
""The old man sent for me- an
swered promptly.
""The deuce he did, said Sam,
with a twinkle in his eye. He took
the 10 o'clock train this morning,
bound for the ranch
"'See here, SAM I said, making a
breast of it, don't say anything
about this, and it will be a fine din
ner for you when he does send for
me. l can get train in two hours
that will give him only five hours the
start of me, and with hard riding I
can beat him into the ranch, taking
the upper TRAIL
"'Go it, my boy answered Sam,
'and my blessings be with you
'When stepped off the train the
night was like pitch, and a hard
sleet was driving across the prairie.
l was in my saddle within ten min
utes, and shaking out the reins touch
ed my mustangs TANKS with my
spurs. He shot away like an arrow,
and then settling down close to the
ground dug along beautifully. The
sleet stung like pin darts, but my
mustang climbed alongin the dark
ness without a word or a touch ofthe
spur from me. Only once he show
ed any fight, and that was when I
turned him into the upper trail.
There was a climb here, and the
going was bad, and the mustang
seemed to think l was crazy to take
the trail. After I got him into it,
however, he slipped away and went
scurrying along like a nimble rab-
bit.
''Along the trail we went, talk
ing to the mustang all the time. At
times the sleet burned my face and
hands and neck and ears SO thatlI
pulled down the mustang and let
my face lie against his warm, drip
ping neck under his heavy name.
Then we were off again on another
race.
II don't know how long we were,
on that ride, for I took no timesat
either end of it. But when rr1ched
camp there were no lights burning,
and l knew that I had beaten the
old man.
See here, boys I said, stalking
inside and wringing the wet from
my beard, the old man is co ming,
and you needn't say anything about
my going to Denver l heard q
chuckle under the blankets. They
understood. me in a minute, and
were laughing at my ride,
I'll sit up for him. l said. He
ought to be along in an hour, any
way, and it is almost daylight now.
Another chuckle, and then peaceful
snoring.
"When did the old man reach
camp? He didn't come. It was a
trick played on meby that Sam
Wilson," .-.