Idaho semi-weekly world. [volume] (Idaho City, Idaho Territory) 1875-1908, 1893-01-27
A CALIFORNIA MUSTANG

The other day Kern county rancher
autographed to the best horse doctor il
San Francisco:
"Take the next train, come out to INV
farm, and do what You can for my mus.
tang"
The doctor went, found an old saddle
horse, long past usefulness, in fact
dying, and returned, wondering what
made tho rancher 20 anxious About the
animal.
Others wondered, too, until the story
was one day told to few friends who
were visiting at the old ranch house near
the foothills. There is perhaps nothing
In the affair which marks it as different
from many occurrences ON the frontier.
where homes are far apart, and where
NE itself may sometimes depend upon q
saddle horses speed and bottom. But.
told as the rancher told it at his own ia
BILE, it was story that long chung to the
memory.
1T was more than thirty years ago. y
be said, II was IS years old, and had
been away from home attending school
When came back to the ranch in Kern.
near the foothills, my mother came cry
ing to the door to meet me.
my little sister was very i'll. She
was only 8 years old, my pet and de-
light, and my mother was widow. An
elder sister was in Tuolumne teaching
school; my brother, who managed the
ranch, had gone to Stanislaus to buy
sheep. and mother and baby were alone.
It was eight miles to the nearest village
and stage station, from which place
had walked, reaching the house ct dark.
| went in and found little Mary uncon-
scious; my mother could not tell what
was the matter. Iran down to the past
ure and called my colt, Major, the best
horse ever owned. he came at once,
and l saddled him and rode of at a
gallop
slt was early winter, and rain had
made the road heavy; cloudy all day. a
drizzle began before I had been five min.
utes in the saddle. had neither whip
nor spur. Now and then l spoke to
Major, and he knew there was work be-
fore him. Two miles we went without
a pause, the road dead level and SO
slippery chat l could feel Major slide
like log on frosted sidewalk; but he
managed to keep to his feet aud resume
his wild pace. He took the bit in his
teeth and ran, snorting with excitement;
for year he had not been ridden, and
his muscles were steel, his lungs like
steam engine. let him walk for few
moments, then let him have his head
again and again, until he swept into the
village in tearing gallop.
"'Not here was the answer, as ham,
mered at the poctor's door. Gone ten
miles into the foothills to the old Be-
mont place.
"That was east in direct line, and
three miles south was another village
where perhaps doctor could be found.
If not it was but few minutes lost,
for another road could be taken to Be-
mont's.
again the wild pace under the clouded
sky and cold rain, thoughts of my lonely
mother and little sister urging me to yet
greater haste. The road was hard, with
a thin coating of mud that spattered me
from head to foot, and the wind blew
sharply in my face. lived over in men,
ory every scene of our lives, every word
said to my sister, every act done in the
past-her arms about my neck in thanks
for some simple gift; long days behind
the pillow, with her toddling feet in the
furrow; child asleep in the summer
grass; bunch of wild peoples in her
chubby hand, the calico sunbonnet tossed
back from the curly head. Then l re-
membered that when went away moth
er wrote me that every day little Mary
asked: Won't brother Tom come home
tonight? want to see brother Tom
"Well, reached the village and found
that the doctor, who lived there, was
sick himself. Nothing to do but to start
for Bemonts. Again the gallop, no
longer on level roads, but through roll
ing hills and under darkness that was
Egyptian. We were descending into
hollow between high hills. The road
was narrow, dark, slippery, and the soft
sound of falling rain drowned the noise
of wheels. Through break in the east
ern clouds the stars shone out above the
hill crest. Suddenly, instantly, without
q stroke of warning, there doomed up
before me, dreadful as De Quincey's
Vision of Sudden Death, vast moving
pile, six mules, a Carson wagon ore laden
to the brim, sleepy driver nodding on
his seat-and tearing into that mass Of
wood, iron, stone and animal life was a
tired horse with heartsick rider.
simultaneously the discovery came
upon usall. The driver awoke with
loud, affrighted cry. the snorting mules
sprang back in wild group; l heard
whifietrees and harness snap, and a sud
den flash of lightning lighted up the dark
hollow between the hills to the very feet
of the frightened animals. OF myself l
could do nothing. so narrow was the
space between, so brief the time left for
thought. But the instinct of the horse
| rode was my salvation. On one side OF
the road was q shallow ditch, on the
other a steep wall of rock. Major gath
cred himself up and made leap side
ways, screaming as he sprang, and we
landed safely below, clearing by few
inches the tangled leaders and the great
wheel of the ore wagon. Wild with ter
ror still, Major began to run as he had
not run before. He climbed the bank
again. and resumed his tearing pace
along the roadway, his long name blown
over my face by the wind of his terrible
flight.
THAT night in the village the team
~ r. l11l~