On A Donkey's Hurricane Deck Part 19

The blacksmith, an expert cobbler, shook hands with us, with special deference to Cheese, who was to have the new footgear, then informed my master that if we jacks would treat him with respect he would do what was right, but if not, he would inflict on him what he himself had received from us. I overheard Pod mutter as he departed that he was sure that villain Cheese was going to kick him by proxy.

When Pod returned, that incorrigible donkey had both smiths in a corner, and was kicking knots out of the walls. Soon that shop appeared as if constructed of perforated cardboard, and the two men as if they were worsted. Both men were saved, however, by Pod, who ran to a bakery for some cakes with which he completely subjugated the murderous brute, and enabled the men to complete the work.

All next day we labored through mud, which made my feet feel good, but spoiled the looks of our new shoes. That day the Professor bought a new donkey.

"Sell him cheap, sound as a dye," said the man. Perhaps this was the truth, but he was the funniest donkey I ever set eyes on. His face resembled a poodle dog's, except that it was longer, and he appeared to be a combination of crosses between South American llama, Rocky Mountain sheep, baby camel, and muley cow, with only a sprinkling of donkey blood. After this freak was roped to my saddle and we had proceeded a little way, I asked, "Excuse me, friend, but what stock did you descend from?"

"Why, live stock," said the simpleton.

The rest of us hid our faces; but I persisted, "Who's your father?"

"I never had a father," he returned. "If I did, he never showed up in my lifetime. As for my mother, she kicked the tenderloins out of a farmer's thoroughbred pig, in consequence of which I was left to s.h.i.+ft for myself, so you can't call me a s.h.i.+ftless fellow."

Well, the poor fellow ain't quite as bad off as Topsy, I thought--she had neither father nor mother.

For a week back Cheese had been complaining of a weak foot, which explains why Pod desired an emergency donkey. The heavy roads would have taxed a dray horse. But by s.h.i.+fting the burden from Cheese and myself to the new acquisition we were able to make better time with less effort.

The sun was hot, and Poodle's long coat dripped with perspiration.

Before long, we were stopped in front of a house, where a man was cutting the gra.s.s with a lawn-mower.

"Hay, there, Mister!" Pod shouted; "will you loan me that machine a moment? I'll remunerate you handsomely for the kindness."

The farmer just shouldered that machine and fetched it down to the roadside. Then my master dismounted, and whispering to the granger something I couldn't understand, to my utter astonishment deliberately pushed that lawn-mower almost the whole length of that donkey's back.

I recall the incident so vividly. First sounded the noisy swish of the mower, next the fragrant air was hazy with flying hair, hat, man and mowing machine. A moment of painful silence followed, when suddenly a clatter from the roof of the house indicated that the jacka.s.s had promptly returned the machine to its owner.

Poor Pod, it looked as if he were no mower. The farmer laid him gently on the gra.s.s, where he finally awoke, and with the aid of hard cider and a fanning machine was restored. Three miles beyond he caught the refractory jack that meant only to harm the machine, he said, and not the man, and securing a slipnoose to Poodle's tail, roped him to my saddle; next he tied Cheese to my tail, and leaping aboard his new expedient led the way.

All at once Poodle espied two donkeys grazing in a field. "I must say a farewell to my sweethearts before leaving," he protested, braying and making a dash for the fence, dragging me after him. I often wonder if he had any feeling left in his tail after that; for while it pained me to drag Cheese, it must have caused Poodle more pain to tow us two by resorting to such a sensitive extreme.

Had not the fence been a thorn hedge, I verily believe that that "Samson" would have dragged us across lots to his sweethearts. I never saw Pod so enraged.

On nearer approach to Roch.e.l.le, we stopped in front of a house where Pod purchased a drink of milk of a woman who was pa.s.sing milk cans to a man in a wagon. Neither the man nor the woman asked a question, much to my surprise, until we had proceeded some distance, when to prevent a tragedy, nature a.s.serted herself and impelled the woman to call out: "Say, what be them thar animiles ye-ve got, stranger?"

"Two are camels, and one is a dromedary," Pod yelled.

"Dromedary!" The woman exclaimed; and, to the man, added, "That's a new sort of dairy I never heered tell of. Did you, Hank?"

CHAPTER XXII.

BY PYE POD.

"By my faith, Signor Don Quixote," quoth the d.u.c.h.ess, "that must not be; you shall be served by four of my damsels, all beautiful as roses." "To me," answered Don Quixote, "they will not be as roses, but even as thorns p.r.i.c.king me to the very soul; they must in nowise enter my chamber."--_Don Quixote._

From Roch.e.l.le to the Mississippi I found the people more conservative, but interesting subjects for character study. The topography of the country varied but little. Snipe, quail, doves and meadow larks were prevalent. The pesty pocket-gophers were as shy of my fire-arms as of the farmers' dogs; one might shoot a dozen of them only to see the spry little fellows drop dead into their "home-made" graves. I have seen hundreds of them sitting upright on as many mounds, immovable as sticks, but pop! and they vanished.

Crossing this one-time prairie state, I recalled pictures of prairie fires in my school-books, and easily imagined the terror of the droves of wild horses and buffalo, fleeing before the leaping flames.

This seemed to be a contented section, and contentment is a great thing. Although no woodland was visible, I saw occasional cl.u.s.ters of "p.u.s.s.y willows," and groups of shade-trees embowering a house, above which the shaft of an aeromotor towered like a sentinel, a.s.serting the homestead rights. When the windwheels were in motion, they created a noise which only an expert linguist could distinguish from the vernacular of a guinea hen.

Here and there bunches of cattle browsed in the meadows behind barbed-wire fences and thorn hedges; and long corn-cribs, often full to overflowing, had rewarded most every farmer.

About dark, May first, my small caravan ambled into the village of Ashton, and my bugle blasts aroused the nodding inhabitants sufficiently to give me a fair audience for a lecture. The Germans predominated, and to them May-day festivals are indispensable.

Boys and girls celebrate by hanging May-baskets on door k.n.o.bs, and a few wags, who resemble frogs, in that a half dozen make you think they are a million, shower corn, sand and bird shot at windows equal to a Kansas hail-storm.

The celebration that night seemed to be directed at my particular window. The racket had almost soothed me to sleep, when suddenly a rag doll loaded with shot came smas.h.i.+ng through the blinds and landed on my bed. My patience overtaxed, I arose and resorted to free trade by exporting to the street a piece of crockery, and a chair, not to mention a few roasted invectives. I would have folded my bedstead and sent it sailing after them, but the disturbance of the peace and the pieces ceased together.

While at breakfast I wondered if any tricks had been played on my animals. I was quite sure of it before reaching the stable. The livery keeper came hobbling up on one foot and a crutch, with his face done up in fly-paper, and a bandage around his head.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Jacks got the spasms."

"You mean spavins," I corrected, innocently enough.

"Guess I ought to know the difference 'tween spasms and spavins,"

he returned, sourly. "Those d---- mules o' yourn kicked out pet.i.tions, hollared, and had such fits last night that they scared all the mice and rats outen the haymow."

"What kind of pet.i.tions?" I asked, remembering I had been tempted to issue a pet.i.tion on my own account.

"What kind d'y, 'spose? Wooden pet.i.tions," said he. "And when I crawled out o' bed and went to the stalls to see what ailed 'em----"

"Ailed the pet.i.tions?" I interrupted, excitedly.

"Naw, the mules,--something like a thousand rats and mice ran over my bare feet. I thought the barn must be afire, and I jumped so the lantern fell outen my hand and broke, and I had to feel my way in the dark."

"You ought to know better than to feel around strange donkeys, night or day," said I, reprovingly.

"It wasn't th' feelin' of 'em what broke me up so," said he.

"'Twas the kindlin' wood they piled up again me."

I did not discuss further the circ.u.mstances; I was quite satisfied, since we had grievances in common. While settling my bill, I noticed Mac gaze at the ceiling, so I glanced upward, too, and at once saw hanging to a nail on a cross-beam a circular rat-trap, bent almost flat, and containing two dead rodents. That solved the mystery. On recovering the trap, we found it sprinkled with donkey hair, and sheep twine, which was proof enough that some young villain had fastened a cage full of rats to Mac A'Rony's tail, he being the most amiable of the donkeys. There is nothing like the mysterious to frighten a dumb brute, and when that donkey heard strange noises and felt mysterious movements about his hind legs, he didn't wait for an explanation. Good-bye, rats!

Although the day dawned clear, dark clouds began early to bank in the Southwest, and before I could reach the next town I was drenched by a heavy shower. But I was fortunate in selling Cheese II, my weak-footed jack, for seven dollars to the village butcher, who, while in Ashton, had generously fed my dog.

Wet to my skin, I took refuge in a German tavern managed by a widow with five comely daughters. All were kind and responsive to my wants, and brought to my room a varied a.s.sortment of house pets, literature, and cheese, not omitting a bottle of beer, for my entertainment and refreshment, while I remained in bed enveloped in comforters, waiting for my only suit of clothes to dry by the kitchen fire. Meanwhile I became almost asphyxiated from the gas generated by the Limburger cheese which had already smothered two hearty slices of bread. The next day I spent in Dixon, and the following day in Sterling, situated on Rock River.

From my bedroom window I had a charming view of the dam falls and the iron bridge which spans the stream. My sojourn in both these towns was profitable.

It was a hot and dusty ride to Morrison, where I found a bra.s.s band serenading a leading citizen. "This won't do," said I; and making Mac bray, I blew my bugle, and at once turned the tide of popularity in our favor. The fickle crowd soon gathered and cheered me to the hotel, while the jilted band had the bra.s.s to march down the street past me, blowing itself with might and main until lost to view, not once thinking that distance lent enchantment to my ear. Next day we made slow headway to the Mississippi.

As I approached the "Father of Waters" the land, as well as my donkeys, were more rolling. Several times when wading through a pool of dust, Cheese III, alias Poodle, would suddenly stop, circle about, kneel and roll with all the paraphernalia he was carrying. Then my steed would follow suit, before I could get out of the saddle.

Thirteen miles from Morrison lay the village of Fulton, on the banks of the Mississippi, and it was 4:30 P. M. before we arrived at the big high bridge. The bridge approach on each side of the river crosses a broad stretch of lowlands which at certain seasons is inundated. My donkeys refused to pa.s.s the toll-gate, although I had paid the toll. I demanded of Mac an explanation. He maintained silence, as did Cheese, and neither of them would budge. A squad of laborers, amused at my plight, a.s.serted their donkey nature by imitating an a.s.s's bray, and so perfect was the imitation that my animals took them for donkeys disguised in human apparel, and joined in the awful chorus. Presently a timid woman following us with a terpsich.o.r.ean horse called to me and gesticulated wildly. I feared a runaway and was at a loss to know how to urge my contrary animals on, but before long a double dray team came to my a.s.sistance. The teamster roped Mac to the rear axle of his wagon, cracked his whip, and drove on, dragging the obdurate donkey on his haunches across the bridge, while Cheese crept closely behind in fear and trembling.

When I had crossed the Mississippi it was exactly seventeen minutes past five.