Harry Castlemon - Frank at Don Carlos' Rancho

We must stop here long enough to tell how Archie came by his horse, and why he gave him that odd name.

We have spoken of Captain Porter, an old fur-trader, who owned a rancho a few miles distant from the one belonging to Mr. Winters. He was a fleshy, jolly old gentleman, who always took a great deal of interest in every thing the boys did, and listened to the stories of their adventures with as much good nature as he exhibited in relating his own. Having lived on the frontier from his earliest boyhood, he had seen a world of excitement and adventure; and the easy way he had of recounting his exploits over his after-dinner pipe, proved an attraction too strong to be resisted by the boys, who scarcely allowed a day to pass without a visit to his rancho. They had a happy faculty of making friends wherever they went; and it was not long before the old fur-trader began to show that they held a prominent place in his estimation. He presented Frank with Marmion, the dog which had done him such good service in his encounters with Pierre Costello, and shortly afterward he treated Archie in a still more handsome manner.

One day the cousins rode over to dine with the captain, and while on the way, Archie, who could never be persuaded to acknowledge that Roderick was a swifter horse than Sleepy Sam, challenged Frank to a trial of speed. The race came off, and Archie, as usual, was badly beaten. When Frank dismounted at the captain’s door, his cousin was not in sight.

“Where’s the little one?” asked the fur-trader, who was seated on the porch, enjoying his long Indian pipe.

“He is coming,” replied Frank. “Whenever he is on horseback he can’t be easy unless he is racing with somebody,” he added, to explain how he came to leave him so far behind.

“And do you always beat him?”

“Always. He grumbles and scolds about it at a great rate, but it doesn’t seem to help the matter any. He has tried every horse on uncle’s rancho, too; but has never been able to find one that can beat Roderick.”

The captain settled back in his chair, and looked at the mustang as he was being led away by one of the Rancheros; and, when Archie came up, trying to smile, but looking rather crestfallen over his defeat, he winked at him, and nodded his head in a very significant manner. Neither of the boys knew what he meant; but Archie found out when dinner was over, for then the trader drew him aside, and held a whispered consultation with him. Frank regarded them both with suspicion, and when Archie looked at him, and wrinkled up his nose, and made other mysterious signs, he became satisfied that they were getting up some sort of a conspiracy. Nothing was said or done, however, that threw any light on the matter until they were ready to start for home; and then, when their horses were brought out, Frank saw that Sleepy Sam was not there. In his place was a small, clean-limbed animal, as black as midnight, which was pawing the ground, and jumping about as if impatient to be off. While Frank stood looking at him, and admiring his fine points, Archie seized the bridle, and sprang into the saddle.

“Hallo!” exclaimed his cousin, who now thought he understood the meaning of the mysterious winks and whisperings, “who owns that horse?”

“He belongs to the subscriber,” replied Archie, highly elated.

“He is a fine-looking animal, but I don’t know what you are going to do with him.”

“Don’t you? Well, jump into your saddle and I’ll show you. He was presented to me by Captain Porter, on condition that I make him beat that ugly-looking mustang of yours; and I am going to do it.”

“It isn’t my style to allow a challenge like that to pass unnoticed,” said Frank, as he mounted Roderick. “Hold on! Don’t be in such a hurry. Come back here, and give me a fair chance.”

The boys had a good deal of trouble in getting started, for Archie showed a disposition to “jockey.” His expectations had been raised to the highest pitch by the captain’s glowing description of the black’s wonderful speed, but he knew what Roderick could do, and he did not intend to allow his cousin to get the start of him by so much as an inch. In order to prevent that, he managed to keep a little in advance of Frank. But at last, after several false starts, they got off together, and the trader witnessed a race that was worth going miles to see. He entered heartily into the sport, clapping his hands, and shouting and laughing at the top of his voice; and when the rivals had passed out of sight of the rancho, he returned to his seat, his face all wrinkled up with smiles, and his fat sides shaking with suppressed mirth.

Archie had not overrated the powers of his horse. He took the lead at the start, and, what was more, increased it at every jump. For half a mile he went at an astonishing rate, carrying his rider faster than he had ever traveled before on horseback; but then the furious pace began to tell on him, and the mustang, which was good for a three-mile race at any time, gained rapidly. Archie, who had kept one eye over his shoulder all the while, noticed this, and knowing that Roderick’s long wind would bring him out winner, if the race continued much farther, pulled up his horse and stopped.

“Now see here,” exclaimed Frank, “this is not fair.”

“What isn’t?” asked his cousin, innocently.

“Why, to give up the race when I begin to gain on you. Come on; this question isn’t decided yet.”

“I think it is,” replied Archie. “I am entirely satisfied. Didn’t I keep ahead of you for half a mile?”

“Yes, but I want to explain.”

“A fellow who is beaten always wants to make some excuses or explanations. I have beaten you fairly. I own the swiftest horse in the settlement, thanks to Captain Porter, and I have just thought of an appropriate name for him. The genuine Roderick, the rebel your horse is named after, had things all his own way for a while, but met his equal, at last, in King James, who whipped him in a fair fight. Your Roderick has found his match now, and I don’t know any better name for the gallant little nag that has beaten him, than King James. That is what I shall call him.”

Frank had boasted loudly of the mustang’s victories over Sleepy Sam, and now Archie paid him back in his own coin. It was of no use for him to say that he would not acknowledge himself beaten – that Roderick was a “long-winded” horse, and that in a race of three miles he would leave the black one-third of the distance behind – for Archie would not listen; nor could he be induced to consent to another trial of speed. He was very proud of his victory, and loved every glossy hair of the little horse which had vanquished the hitherto invincible Roderick. But now he was gone. He was in the hands of some unknown thieves, who had entered the stable during the night, and made off with him and the mustang. The robbers must have known something about the merits of the two horses, for there were several other fine animals in the stable, but they were the only ones taken. The loss fell heavily on the boys, for they had expected to ride those horses to the head-waters of the Missouri during the coming autumn. Captain Porter was getting ready to start northward, on one of his annual trading expeditions, and Frank and Archie, and the two trappers, were to accompany him. It was the captain’s intention to spend a few weeks in trapping on the Missouri and its tributary streams, and, when cold weather came, to go into winter-quarters in the mountains.

The cousins had nearly gone wild with delight when Uncle James decided that they might join the expedition, and had looked forward with impatience to the day set for the start. What splendid sport they would enjoy! What multitudes of beavers and otters they would trap; what havoc they would make among the buffaloes and antelopes; and what fine opportunities they would have to listen to the trappers’ stories, when they were snug in their warm cabin in the mountains, with a fire blazing cheerfully on the hearth, while the fierce winter was piling up the snow-drifts without! Frank and Archie had often talked of these things; but now the journey across the plains, and the excitements attending a winter’s sojourn in the mountains, had lost all charms for them. Indeed, during the last week, Archie had repeatedly declared that he would not stir a step. If he could not ride King James on the expedition he would not go; he would stay at home.