Friar Tuck Part 11

"I got hit in the back o' the head with a golf ball once," he flares back real angry; "an' that showed me a lot o' brightness, too. I don't want no more brightness, an' I don't intend to ride to-day."

I was especial pleased at the human traits he was displayin'. He hadn't acted so healthy an' natural since he'd been with us, an' I was encouraged to keep on with the treatment. "You will have to ride with us, even if we have to tie you on," I sez. "We are now close to the Injun country, an' we're responsible for you. O' course the' ain't any danger from regular war parties; but Injun boys is just as full o'

devilment as white boys, an' they haven't as many safety valves.

They're all the time sneakin' off an' playin' at war, an' they play a purty stiff game, too, believe me. If a dozen o' these voting bucks, eighteen or twenty years old, was to stalk us, they'd try most earnest to lift our hair."

"I'd as soon be killed one way as another," he sez. "I can't stand it to ride, an' that's all the' is to it."

Here was a queer thing: the little cuss actually wasn't afeared of Injuns, which I had counted on as my big card. Nerves or no nerves, Horace Walpole Bradford wasn't no coward; 'cause we are all afeared o'

crazy folks, an' he thought Tank was crazy. If Tank had had two good eyes, chances are he wouldn't 'a' feared him; so I kicked Tank in the side an' woke him up.

CHAPTER TEN

INJUNS!

Well, we sure had a hard time gettin' Horace in the saddle that day.

He was some like a burro, small but strong minded. Finally he agreed to try it if we would put the saddle-blanket on top the saddle instead of underneath.

"The hoss don't need it as bad as I do," sez he; "'cause he's covered all over with hoss-hide an' has hair for paddin' besides; and furthermore, the saddle is lined with sheepskin underneath, while it's as hard as iron on top; and I'm just like a boil wherever I touch it."

We told him that a hard saddle was lots the easiest as soon as a feller got used to it; but he broke in an' said he didn't expect to live that long, an' that we could take our choice of leavin' him, or puttin' the saddle-blanket on top. The's lots of folks with the notion that a soft saddle or a soft chair or a soft bed is the easiest; an'

it ain't much use to argue with 'em, though the truth is, that if a feller lived on goslin' down, he'd get stuck with a pin feather some day an' die o' loss of blood; while if he lived on jagged stones, he'd finally wear into 'em until he had a smooth, perfect fittin' mold for his body. Still, the truth is only the truth to them 'at can see it; so we put the blanket on top, an' perched Horace astride it.

He stood it two hours, an' then said it was stretchin' his legs so 'at he was afeared a sudden jerk would split him to the chin; an' then we put the saddle on right, an' he found it full as easy as it had been the day before. The best way, an' the easiest an' the quickest, to toughen up, is just to toughen up. The human body can stand almost anything in the way o' hards.h.i.+p. After it has sent up word, hour after hour, that it is bein' hurt, an' no attention gets paid to it, why, it sets to work to remedy things on its own hook. In order to ride comfortable, a lot of muscles have to loosen an' stretch. Most o' the pain in ridin' comes from ridin' with set muscles. A feller can't balance easy with set muscles, it's just one strainin' jerk after another, an' the trick o' ridin' is to move with the horse. Just as soon as ya get to goin' right along with the hoss, loose an' rubbery, you take the strain off o' both you an' him; but while you're b.u.mpin'

again' him, it's painful for both.

We rode about forty miles that day; and at the end of it Horace wasn't complainin' any worse 'n at the start. Well, he couldn't, as far as that goes; but his body had already begun to find the motion o' the hoss. Of course he hadn't learned to balance, an' he still rode rigid; but we had give him an easy-gaited old hammock, an' when we drew up to make camp, he sat on his hoss without holdin' to the horn, an' said he was beginnin' to like it. When Tank lifted him down, though, his legs wobbled under him like rubber an' he squashed down in a heap, groanin'. We let him sleep where he lit while we were gettin' supper; 'cause we was sure he would need it before mornin'. He wasn't nervous any longer; all he wanted was food, sleep, an' a lung full o' tobacco smoke. I felt rather proud o' my treatment.

Tank had to boot him about purty freely to waken him up enough to take his vittles; but he took a good lot of 'em, an' I was glad of it, 'cause this was the night the Injuns were goin' to attack us, an' he wasn't scheduled to have any more solid nourishment until we got back to the ranch house. After supper he went to his pipe like a young duck to a puddle o' water. He hadn't learned to handle his moisture while smokin' a pipe, an' when the pipe began to gargle, he muttered a little cuss-word under his breath. H. Walpole Bradford was comin' out wonderful.

The stiffenin' had all blew out o' the rim of his hat, givin' the sun full swing at him, an' his nose looked like a weakly tomato flung in a bed o' geraniums. He had wrinkled up his face around where his gla.s.ses fit, an' now with the sun gone down his skin had loosened up again, showin' the unburned wrinkles like painted marks. He sure did look tough! He was wearin' a gray suit with a belt around the middle an'

canvas leggins.

Along about nine o'clock he nodded over into the fire, right at the most excitin' part of an Injun tale which Tank was makin' up for his especial benefit. We fished him out an' shook him awake; but he came to as cross as a hornet, an' swore he was goin' to sleep right where he was with all his clothes on.

"You're a wise pigeon to sleep with your clothes on, to-night," sez Tank; "'cause this is the Injun country, an' ya can't tell what'll happen; but the best plan for us to do is to divide up an' keep watch durin' the night."

"Keep watch!" yells Horace, glarin' at Tank. "I wouldn't keep watch to-night if I was bound to a torture stake. You can keep watch if you want to-an' it wouldn't discommode you no more 'n if you was an owl.

Your dog-gone, doubly condemned nerves won't let you nor any one else sleep-but I'm goin' to get some rest if I die for it."

"You're a nice one, you are!" sez Tank. "This here expedition was got up just on account o' your nerves, an' now that we've come to the most important point of all, why, you flam out an' put all the risk on us."

"You make me tired," sez Horace, scowlin' at Tank as fierce as a cornered mouse. "If you're so everlastin' feared o' the Injuns-what ya got this bloomin' fire for?"

"We don't intend to sleep near the fire, Mr. Bradford," sez I, soothin'. "We intend to roll up our beds like as if we was in 'em an'

then sneak off into the bushes an' sleep. We don't want any trouble if we can avoid it. If you'll notice, you'll see we haven't turned the hosses out to-night."

"These here Injuns is livin' on a reservation," sez he, "an' I don't believe 'at they'd dare outrage us."

I was indignant with the little cuss for not bein' afeared of Injuns.

My theory was, 'at nerves was a lot like hosses: keep a hoss shut up an' he'll get bad an' kick an' raise Cain; but take him out an' ride his hide loose, an' he'll simmer down consid'able. I wanted to give Horace's nerves such a complete stringin' out that they wouldn't worry him any more for a year; an' here he was, not carin' a hang for Injuns. "Beliefs is all right to the believers," sez I, stiffenin' up; "but facts is facts whether you believe in 'em or not. Every Injun outrage since the Civil War was planned on a reservation, an' we can't take no chances."

While he was studyin' over this with a pouty look on his face, Tank sez: "It's time we fixed up an' moved out into the dark"; so we put rolls o' brush in the beds, an' went on up the side o' the rise where the' was a level spot I knew of, Horace stumblin' an' grumblin' every step o' the way. We were about two hundred yards from the fire an' it looked cozy an' cheerful, dancin' away beside the tarps. I was half a mind to join in with Horace, an' go on back; but our plans were all laid, an' besides, I had a little bet up with Spider Kelley, that I'd return Horace in such fine condition that he'd be willin' to drink blood or milk a cow calf-fas.h.i.+on.

"You go to sleep first," sez Tank to Horace; "I'll watch till I get sleepy an' then I'll call Happy, he'll watch two hours, an' if it ain't dawn by that time, he'll call you. I may not get sleepy at all, but you know how nerves is. I stayed awake ninety-six hours once, an'

couldn't get a speck sleepy. Then I decided to stay out the even hundred an' see how far I could jump after stayin' awake a hundred hours. I went to sleep in ten minutes an' didn't wake up for two days-so I'm liable to be took sleepy to-night."

We had brought the slickers up, an' Horace rolled up in one, under a low evergreen, and began to snore in half a minute. As soon as he had got to wrastlin' with his breath in earnest, I went to the head o' the trail an' whistled for Spider Kelley. He an' four others were there, an' I told 'em it was all right to start in an hour, an' then I came back to Horace chucklin'. Spider enjoyed anything like this, an' he had fixed up the boys with feathers an' fringe an' smears o' chalk an'

raspberry jam, till they looked as evil-minded as any Injuns I'd ever seen.

We set Horace's watch ahead five hours. Tank curled up an' went to sleep, an' then I started to wake Horace up. It took so long; to get him to consciousness that I feared the hour would be up; but he finally got so he remembered what he was, an' then I told him not to make any fuss if he saw any Injuns, but to just wake us up. I tried to get him to take one o' my guns, but I didn't wear triggers on 'em an'

he didn't savvy snap-shootin', so he took a club in his hand an'

started to parade.

He looked at his watch while I was stretchin' out in his warm spot, an' he looked at it again before I was through loosenin' up my muscles. It beats the world how slow time crawls to a man on watch. I was sleepy myself, but I'd have bit out my tongue before I'd have give in. I lay half on my right side with my hat drawn down, watchin'

Horace. After about ten minutes, he pulled out his watch again an'

looked at it. He pulled out the snap to set it ahead, in order to fool us, but he was troubled with too much morality, so he snapped it shut an' spoke to himself between his set teeth for several moments.

I reckon he must have kept on his feet for twenty minutes, an' then he settled down with his face to the fire, which I had fed up on my way back from seein' Spider, an' said loud enough for me to hear: "This is all d.a.m.n foolishness."

He said it so slow an' solemn an' earnest, that I purt nigh choked; but I kept still, he kept still, an' the fire kept dancin' before him.

His breathin' grew deep an' steady, his nerves was all coiled up comfortable; and tired muscles don't make a feller wakeful. Purty soon Horace began to gargle his palate, an' then I was ready for Spider Kelley.

The plan was for him to come up close so as to entertain Horace while his braves sneaked on to the dummies in the tarps; but the' was no occasion for sneakin'. Horace had turned over the camp to fate, an' he wasn't worryin' his head about what was goin' to happen to it.

Finally, Spider got disgusted an' he went down an' joined the others, an' they sure raised a riot; but all the time, Horace slumbered on.

Spider caught up our hosses, put our saddles an' packs on 'em, threw some pieces of old canvas he brought along on the fire; and he an' the rest raised a wild warwhoop and galloped away; but Horace was too busy to pay any attention. Spider an' the boys had to work next day, an'

they was some put out not to have a little more fun for their trouble.

It was all Spider could do to keep 'em from sneakin' back an'

kidnappin' Horace, but this was liable to give the whole thing away, so he talked 'em out of it. As soon as the noise had died down, I set Horace's watch back five hours, an' then I went to sleep myself. It was purty chilly, and I wasn't quite sure who the joke was on.

When Tank woke up, he started in on Horace; but his noise wakened me up first. When Horace saw what had happened to the camp, he was about wordless; but after we had called him down about it for five or ten minutes, he flared up an' talked back as harsh as we did. He said 'at he had kept guard for over three hours, fightin' off sleep by walkin'

back an' forth; and hadn't sat down until it had started to lighten in the sky. He stuck to this tale, and I'm sure he believed it himself.

He'd been so sleepy the night before that he couldn't have told a dream from an actual happenin', so when he began to get excited, we dropped it.

"All right," sez Tank at last; "you've put us into a nice fix, but the' ain't no use tryin' to pickle yesterday. What we've got to do is to hoof it back, an' we might as well begin. We're in a nice fix: nothin' to eat, not a single cabin on the road back, an' for all we know the's a pack of Injuns watchin' us this blessid moment."

"How do ya know it was Injuns?" sez Horace.

"Look there, an' there, an' there," sez Tank, pointin' at moccasin prints an' feathers. "Then besides, no white men would 'a' burned up the tarps."

"Do you mean to say 'at we got to walk all the way back?" sez Horace.

"All the way, an' without no grub," sez Tank.