Huck Out West(29)

The first thing was to lasso him round his neck and choke him out of his wind, throw him to the ground when he stopped fighting back, and get a halter on him. They call it gentling, but there ain’t nothing gentle about it. I thronged my lariat at him a dozen times, but he was ripping around the corral like the very nation, ducking his head under the rope when I flung it and whinnying like he was laughing at me.

There warn’t nobody else laughing. Maybe the tribe was hee-hawing on the inside, I thought, but on the outside they was stiff as wooden totem poles. Then I seen it. The fear. They could a done to this horse what they done to old Jackson, but they was scared to. This stallion warn’t entirely of this world, that’s what they was thinking. Medicine dog. God dog. There might be dreadful consequences far beyond the eating of him. So this warn’t just a joke, then. They was using me for something else. I felt like one a them human sacrifices Eeteh was telling about.

When I finally lassoed him, I did wish I hadn’t. He hauled me right up off my feet. I was flying behind him, trying to get my feet under me whenever I landed, not to bounce on my belly. I must a made a most comical sight, but there still warn’t nobody laughing. Eeteh come to help, grabbing onto the rope, and together we slowed the horse enough for Eeteh to somehow snub him to a post. The horse raired and pulled back with all his might like to bring the whole corral down, but the rope held and tightened round his neck. Both me and Eeteh suffered a power of mighty kicks, but we was finally able to cross-hobble him, roping his forefeet to a back foot. He stopped fighting us then, and just stood there snorting and looking sadful. I felt bad about it and hoped he wouldn’t hold it against me.

Eeteh give me a thin rawhide thong. I’d watched the Lakota warriors on their horses, so I knowed what it was for. I had to loop it like a bridle over the horse’s lower jaw without getting my arm et, or I wouldn’t stand no chance of getting up on him so’s I could be throwed off again. He whipped his head round like he was trying to break my arm with it, but I managed to get the thong in his mouth and pulled tight round his neck.

There warn’t no stirrups to jump into, no saddle horn to grab. That warn’t the tribe’s style. I kicked my moccasins off, grabbed the rawhide thong and a handful of his mane, and swung aboard—and flew right off again, clean out of the corral. When that horse bucked a body, it was like what a cannon done to a cannonball.

I decided I’d just take my licking and admit I was well beat. I was only a clown, I could do that. I stepped back in, knotted his mane round one fist while he was twisting and jumping round, pulled myself up on his back, dug in with my toes and told Eeteh to let the horse free, but before I could even get set, I was flying out of the corral again, scraping my stern on the fence posts as I sailed across them. A circus clown couldn’t a done it better.

I warn’t feeling too brash when I staggered back in. I wanted to go set in front of the lodge again without doing nothing, but I knowed the tribe was all still waiting for me in their stern-faced way. I allowed getting throwed three times would have to be enough fun for everybody. I hoped I could live through it.

The horse was a-galloping around free now, so I crawled up on the corral fence, waited for my moment, and jumped on his back as he thundered past. He tried to buck me off, but this time I hung on no matter how he ripped and tore and cavorted around. One minute I was up in the clouds, the next I was dropping straight to the devil. I don’t know how long it went on for, but it was the scariest and joyfullest ride I’d had since me and Jim, clinging to our raft for dear life, went a-booming down the Big River in a raging thunderstorm all them years ago.

Then all of a sudden the horse stopped in his tracks. He was still nervious-kneed and all a-tremble, but he dipped his head and snorted like to say I could please to get off if I wanted to. The army would a clapped me, but the Lakota they was silent and stony-faced like always. Maybe it was because I’d spoiled their joke, or maybe because they already had a notion what was going to happen next. The horse he suddenly raired up and sent me skiddering down his back, leaving me hanging on only by his mane and the thong—then away he tore like a house afire! He galloped straight for the corral fence and ripped clean through it, whacking it down with his mighty hoofs, poles and brush flying everywheres! I ducked the flying rubbage and hung onto the big stallion’s neck with my eyes squeezed shut, too scared to let go.

He was on a tear, but he warn’t bucking no more, only galloping, and by and by I was able to peek out at where we was going. We was pounding over a desert, but when I peeked again we was suddenly splashing through a river, then tromping a wheat field, and next on the grasslands, scattering herds a buffalos and yelping coyotes. I had to scrouch down when he run through a low forest, not to get scraped off, then pull my knees up as we raced through a narrow gorge. We hammered in and out a mining and cow towns, Indian camps and army forts. There were gunshots a-plenty, but I judged we was safe, the bullets couldn’t catch us. We was going faster’n I never went before, even when riding for the Pony or shooting down the Big River in a storm.

We run all day and when the sun started to set out a-front of us, the horse barreled towards it, like as if he wanted to go where the sun was going. Or maybe he was racing against it, seeing who’d get there first. It was dropping behind a mountain, and we clumb up that mountain wonderful fast, though we didn’t catch it. There was a lake up there and the horse held up for a long drink. Betwixt swallows, he shook his big head like he was disappointed, and looked all over the sky to see where the sun had gone. I was thirsty, too, but I couldn’t resk getting left behind if I crawled down.