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THE
WHITE HORSE OF \YOOTTOK
THE
WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
3 itcrg
OF LOVE, SPORT AND ADVENTURE IN THE MIDLAND
COUNTIES OF ENGLAND AND ON THE
FRONTIER OF AMERICA.
By CHARLES J. FOSTER,
ACTHOR OF " The HiGH-METTtED RaCEE," " ThE LETTERS OP PrhTATEER," « FiFTT DeRBT
Winners," etc. Editor op "The Trotting Horse of America," and of
" Field, Covee, and Trap Shogtinq."
PHILADELPHIA:
PORTER & COATES,
No. 822 Chestnut Street.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1878, by
CHARLES J. FOSTER,
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.
F?
AS A SMALL TOKEN
OP GREAT ESTEEM AND DEEP PERSONAL REGARD,
THIS WORK IS VERY RESPECTFULLY
DEDICATED TO
R. W. CAMERON, ESQ.,
OF CLIFTON, S. I., BY HIS SINCERE FRIEND,
THE AUTHOR.
M585095
THE
WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
CHAPTER L
" I thought he was expoundiug the law and the prophets ; but on drawing
a little nearer, I found that he was warmly expatiating upon the merits of a
brown horse." Bracebridge Hall.
THE horses of the goblin and demon riders have almost
always been black. It is so stated by the writers and
historians who have recorded the events in which they figured
and the scenes in which they appeared. He who carried Heme
the Hunter under the hoary, wide-spreading oaks of the green
glades of Windsor Park was black as night. Black as mid-
night thunder is the great steed ridden by the gigantic demon
over the crags, through the brakes, by the gaping mouths of
ancient mines, long uu worked, on the slopes of the Hartz
Mountains. Black was the stallion who bore the strange shape
through the pelting storm, to demand the penalty nominated
in the bond between the devil and Tom ^yalker. On the con-
trary. Spirits of Health of the equestrian order — founders of
empires, demi-gods, and saints — have commonly appeared on
milk-white steeds. White was the horse that carried Hengist
and in the front of battle shook his snowy mane. White was
he the good St. James bestrode when he fought before the ranks
of Cortez against the heathen of America. To be sure some
have hinted that St. James took no part in the battle at all,
and that the man on the white horse wa^ Francesco de Morla ;
but the same people would dispute the fact that the Great
Twin Brethren appeared mounted and armed, and achieved
victory for the Roman power at the battle of Lake Regillus.
Yet what saith the ancient tradition ?
8 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N.
" So spake he, and was buckling
Tighter black Auster's band,
When he was aware of a princely pair
That rode at his right hand.
So like they were, no mortal
Might one from other know;
White as snow their armor was,
Their steeds were white as snow."
It may seem at the first view that White Surrey of Bosworth
Field was a notable exception, but the truth is that the char-
acter of his master, Richard III., has been grossly calumniated.
History and biography founded upon the writings of poets and
the traditions of players are always wrong. Shakespeare hav-
ing for his patroness, Elizabeth Tudor of the rival house, dealt
unfairly with the Duke of Gloster, and the actors have done
worse. He was a wise, accomplished, valiant young prince, a
little unscrupulous, it may be, but on the whole, a good king,
as kings went in the Middle Ages and the wars of the rival
roses. He was killed in Leicestershire, at about thirty years of
age, and now the actors depict an elderly ruffian, a monster
of depravity and deformity, more like the boar, which was
his crest, than the wise young prince whom AVarwick cher-
ished, and to whom he gave his best beloved daughter, the
Lady Anne Neville. Therefore, White Surrey was no excep-
tion to the rule that white horses are the agents of love, beauty
and beneficence, as a thousand passages to young maidens and
princesses and milk-white palfreys go to show.
But for all that, the apparition John Bullfinch saw in his
ride, on a wild night, through the thick woods of Wootton,
came in semblance of a white horse — white as the sea-foam
that whirls about the bows of the Flying Dutchman when the
hoarse voice of Vanderdecken roars in the howling gale. The
White Horse haunted the memory of John Bullfinch for many
a day. He declared that it was white ; he affirmed that it was
in the likeness of a horse ; and as there was no better horse-
man within the borders of the counties in which the Woods
of Wootton lie than John, everybody said, "he ought to
know."
He affirmed, furthermore, that it was supernatural, and for
some time nobody ventured to contradict him on that point.
It might not have been altogether safe to do so, for John was
as positive as any other Englishman, of fair possessions and
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 9
past the middle age, in the Hundred of Ridingcumstoke. This
is saying a great deal. In fact John was seldom confuted in
his arguments or contradicted in his assertions. His landlord,
Sir Jerry Snaffle, was a mighty man in those parts — rich,
liberal, a great sportsman, an authority in the weighty matters
of the turf — an English gentleman after John's own heart.
From Sir Jerry John Bullfinch rented many an acre, and
many a rood of rich arable and pasture land, just as his fore-
fathers had rented from former baronets of the Snaffle family
time out of mind. He likewise farmed his small patrimonial
estate of Hawkwell, a snug place, the nest of many genera-
tions of Bullfinches centuries before John himself was born.
Thus he was freeholder as well as tenant, a man of substance,
of that solid character that his opinions were just about as
easily shaken as one of the oaks which grew upon his land.
Like his landlord, John Bullfinch was a sportsman. Hunting,
coursing, and horse-racing he esteemed as the great delights,
not to say virtues, of the country, especially the last, in its two
branches — over the flat and over the steeple-chase course. He
also liked social conviviality and discourse of reason when the
day was well nigh done. His favorite beverage at night was
brandy and water, warm. At early morning he sometimes took
milk punch. In the middle of the day nut-brown ale, brewed in
March or October, and kept to a mellow age, he most esteemed.
He cared little for wine at any time, and held in contempt
the light productions of France. Claret, in his opinion, was
calculated to impair the British Constitution, a thing for which
he had profound reverence, whether considered corporeally, or
as existing in the three estates of the realm. He was a good
farmer in his own way, which was, in the main, that of his an-
cestors. He employed more laborers than any other occupier
of the same number of acres, and many of them had worked
for above a score of years at Hawkwell. He had as fine horses,
as fat oxen, as large flocks of massive, long-wooled sheep as any
man in the four counties of Buckinghamshire, Oxfordshire,
Northamptonshire, and Warwickshire ; but he stubbornly re-
sisted the notions which had begun to prevail touching scien-
tific agriculture and organized husbandry. Had not the fat-
test and biggest bullock ever fed in EugUmd, except one, been
raised and grazed at Hawkwell ? Had not four of his men,
10 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
with their scythes upon their shoulders, and backed by Sir Jerry
Snaffle and himself, challenged for a mowing-match against
all England ? These were the questions which, with a loud
voice and a red face, John put to the advocates of artificial
manures and mowing-machines. If at such times the famous
Mr. Mechi had been present, and declared that Hawkwell w^as
ill-farmed, John Bullfinch would probably have knocked him
down. He had once been exasperated by a flippant youth
from London, who depreciated the quality of his cattle, and
recommended him to go and see Paul Potter's young bull.
"Potter, Potter! who's he, and what's the breed of his
young bull ?" said John. With the country gentlemen, with
his brother farmers, and with the laborers John Bullfinch was
a general favorite. John Bullfinch was liberal in sentiment,
generous with his means, a good rider across country, and
known to the choice spirits of the land, from peers of the
realm to prize-fighters. In his intercourse with the latter class
John never failed to deplore the falling off* of the Ring in
respectability and usefulness since the days of that great man,
Mr. Thomas Cribb, and his trainer. Captain Barclay. Though
some modern professors of the fistic art succeeded in getting
from him liberal contributions towards the "battle-money,"
they were always paid over with strong protests against the
" dropping system," and formal notices that " The King" would
be clean done for if ever there was " another cross."
The home of the yeoman, Hawkwell Farm, w^as a cheery
place at the dawn of a brisk, wintry morning. The faggot on
the wide hearth blazed and crackled as though it would leap
up the chimney, and, like the devout Parsee, greet the first
beam of the rising sun. The game-cock, full of valor and
pride, crowed in the stack-yard. The house girls sang and
swept; the cherry-cheeked milkmaids called up the lowing
kine ; flails thundered on the stout barn floor ; geese screamed
on the margin of the pond, flapping their wings as though
about to mount to the upper air and join the flight of their
wild kindred of the mist and cloud. The sow and litter clam-
ored for the filling of the trough ; colts frolicked in the pad-
docks ; heifers in the straw yard. The rooks cawed hoarsely
from the tops of the lofty elms. The pied bull, full-fronted
and savage in aspect, bellowed over the ox-fence ; and, high
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 11
over the ancient well in the blackthorn brake, the falcon
•wheeled and sailed.
The morning sunshine had just begun to glance through
the windows and athwart the floors when May Bullfinch trip-
ped down-stairs. She was a fair lass of midland English
type, about nineteen, bright, brown-haired, and beautiful.
She had hazel eyes, of a " punishing size," as her brother
Jack remarked, and in her complexion there were blent the
old favorites of the poets — the lily of the valley and the red,
red rose ! Her form was round, but light and graceful ; her
step firm but airy, like that of a young colt in the dewy pas-
ture at the spring of day. May was the only daughter of
John Bullfinch and the wife he had lost some ten years before,
all too soon. As she grew up, the yeoman .saw again, as in
the light of love and memory, the fair lass he had wooed and
won above a score of years before, and who had been the most
blessed and best of women, a good wife and fond mother. The
girl met upon the threshold her brother, a stripling, some years
younger than herself, with the family features well marked.
But there was this difierence : what in her seemed gentle as
well as gay, was in the boy impatient as well as lively. His
cheek was of a browner hue, his hair of a darker shade. His
hazel eyes were as bright but not as large and soft as those of
his sister. He was tali for his age, well made, quick in
action, and with that ease and confidence which horsemanship
and the following of field sports in com}muj with those of
greater age always give to the young. The lax:l wore a tight
jacket of brown moleskin, cor<i breeches, leather leggings and
spurs, and carried a long-lashed whip in his hand. He was
generally pronounced another excellent specimen of the good
old family of the Bullfinches, sure to hunt, shoot and fight,
and to cultivate the sciences of horse-racing and breeding
game-cocks. The moralists of this day and generation may
shake their heads, but young Bullfinch was a youth nearly
half a century ago, amd perhaps still lives in the home of his
forefathers, worthy, wealthy and respected. True it is, that
as he rode about his father's farm, and frolicked in the merry-
makings of the neighborhood. Parkins the constable and the
beadle of the parish, made moan over their beer, and pro-
nounced him,, in common with other youth of the same age
12 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N.
and bailhvick, "a good deal too forrad !" The boy had just
reached the time of life when ladies no longer called him by
the coaxing and endearing name — " Johnny." " Johnny" had
became plain " Jack" in everybody's mouth, never more to
change until upon the fond lips of sweetheart and wife it
should be rounded and softened into John. He was to all the
country-side Young Jack, and sometimes, like the barons and
squires, took particularity from his father's patrimony, and was
called Young Jack of Hawk well. At this moment the flush
of exercise was upon his cheek, and the white hoar frost upon
his curly hair. He had already ridden afield and returned
for breakfast. The table was spread with the substantial fare
of a country farm-house — eggs and bacon, cold diine, a brown
loaf, and a dish of bread and butter. The Jad was eager to
begin. He looked at the chine and suified the fragrance of
the broiled bacon. He went to the window and whistled,
turned to the corner, and took up his gun from the side of the
tall eight-day clock.
" Father's behind time, May, and I'm standing this bacon
like old Dash at a leveret in turnips."
He might have added to this, but the solid tread of John
Bullfinch was "heard upon the stairs, and in a moment he en-
tered the room. A ruddy, smooth-shaven man of forty-five or
perhaps fifty, stout, muscular and active. Nevertheless, he
stooped a little, and his legs were bowed from much riding in
the saddle. There were a few threads of silver in his hair,
but his face was unwrinkled, and his voice round and firm.
*' ^''^y gi'ace. May," said the iarmer.
With reverent, down-cast eyes and soft palms laid together,
the maiden asked of the bountiful giver of all good a bless-
ing. Little was said until the morning meal was ended, for
neither the father nor the son cared to pause in eating for the
sake of mere conversation.
*' I think I shall do well enough now until lunch time," said
the youth, rising. " The air of the hills in the morning gives
an appetite. Father, I saw a fox steal into the Long Gorse
just at dawn, and a j)air of magpies chattered at him from
the oak tree over the stile. A long-legged 'un ! What a run
he'll give us when the hounds come our way again, if he
THE WRITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK. 13
breaks and goes away for the open Otmoor country, instead of
making for the woods at Wootton !"
<' Jack," said May, " another half-year's run to school would
do you good. You will be sorry some of these days that
your father took you home so soon."
" My dear," said John Bullfinch, "I don't know that 1 have
taken him home for good and all. It depends upon his be-
havior. Jack has as much learning now as most of the Bull-
finches ever had, and we always managed to get through the
run, be the day ever so long and the country ever so stiff As
Sir Jerry Snaffle says, men are not educated in school much.
I shall not make my son a man before he's a boy. But he's
the only one we have, ^lay, and now that he can read, write,
and cipher well, to my mind he is as well with us as he would
be at boarding-school."
" I love to have him at home, father ; I know^ that he is
good at his books and figures, and plain English," said May ;
" people, however, think that for your son, heir of Hawkwell,
certain accomplishments are desirable."
" Which," said young Jack, confidently and hastily, " I
have got. Tom Scarlet says I'm the best rider in the country
of my age ; and as for the keeper, he savs I can shoot too well
by half"
John Bullfinch looked somewhat dubious at this last clause
of the argument, and glanced at the light, double-barrelled
gun which had been presented to his son by the Tom Scarlet
mentioned. The farmer hemmed, looked from his son to his
daughter, and from his daughter to his son.
" May, if I find it needful to take a pull upon the lad, it
shall be done. He certainly has more liberty than I had at
his age ; but then I wasn't an only son. Besides, I trust hira
much to your guidance."
" And that," said young Jack, readily, " is quite right, for
she can guide me and keep Tom Scarlet in the line of the
hunt too."
" What d'ye mean by that ?" said the father.
" Oh, nothing in particular ! Tom is this way a good deal,
you know," replied the boy, with a glance at his sister.
"I do know^ it. What then? What do you think brings
him here ? Come, now !"
14 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
" I think, father," said Young Jack, " that it's what they
call instinct, which is the thing that makes young ducks
hatched by a hen waddle straight off to the nearest water."
" Quack ! quack !" said his sister, pinching his ear. " The
accomplishments I mean are such as drawing, mus.ic and
dancing."
" Music and dancing !" said Jack ; " why I can play on the
tabor and fife beautiful, and outfoot any man in the country
in a jig or reel. Charles King says I ought to join the morris
dancers come May day."
His sister laughed, and so did his father ; but John then
said, with a poor attempt at a frown, " Be silent, sir ! On
horseback Charles King is as good a man as ever sat in pig-
skin ; but his fondness for music and dancing lowers his dig-
nity as the best huntsman in the Midlands. I told Earl
Spencer so myself, the last time I hunted with the Pytchley
hounds."
Just then the clang of the gate outside, and the iron tread
of a horse on the frozen ground, caused the fiirmer to rise,
while his son exclaimed : " Here's Tom Scarlet himself, on
Danger I"
CHAPTER 11.
THE MAN ON THE RED HORSE.
THE new comer, Tom Scarlet of the Grange, a fine-looking
young man, open and frank in countenance, about twenty-
four years of age, rode a bright chestnut horse of great size
and strength, one that to all ap^Dcarance was very determined,
not to say vicious, in character. His rider sat him with all
the ease and confidence of a powerful and practised horse-
man, while the horse himself could hardly be said to be ever
still. There was a constant weaving of his head from side to
side, and flecks of foam flew from him when he threw it up
as high as the martingale would allows His forehead was
broad and full, but his face below it was deeply " dished," and
he showed much of the whites of his eyes. The rider was
tall, thin in the flank, deep-chested, and strongly but not
stoutly built. A forehead broad and high, and shaded with
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 15
dark chestnut hair, rose over bright blue 63^3. His complex-
ion was florid, and his bushy whiskers, of a reddish hue, were
such as were then seldom worn by young men of his class.
Mr. Tom Scarlet, however, sanguine in temperament and
independent in character, did not care as much for custom
and precedent as many other people in that neighborhood,
and his whiskers flourished to the discontent of some. His
family name and appearance had led to his being often called
" Scarlet and Gold,'' which nickname had originated with a
damsel of gypsy blood and corresponding habits, an orphan,
belonging to a tribe which often camped on the heaths and in
the sequestered lanes of that part of the country. Her name
was Miriam Cotswold. It was thought by some of the cen-
sorious that the master of the Grange was a little more famil-
iar with Miriam and her tribe than beseemed the owner of a
landed estate of small dimensions but great antiquity. But
Mr. Tom Scarlet was not the man to care much about what
the censorious and the gossips said.
John Bullfinch was his staunch friend. Young Jack idol-
ized him. May Bullfinch was startled by discovering, of a
sudden, how much she liked him. Sir Jerry Snafiie often
consulted him. When Tom Scarlet's father, a gouty, choleric
man, died — some years before the opening of this story — his
eldest son John succeeded to the patrimony. It was an old
family estate, which had once been much larger. Luckilv,
John Scarlet could not encumber it, as it was strictly entailed,
for he was rather profuse in his expenditure. As the people,
more especially his cronies and companions, said, he was a
liberal, spirited young man, and lived like one of the old
Scarlets. They might have added that he died like one too,
for he broke his neck in a steeple-chase, and his brother Tom,
then just twenty-one years of age, was heir to the Grange and
the estate. It soon appeared that he had also inherited the
bold family traits in full measure, for immediately after his
brother's funeral he mounted Danger, the horse that had
killed him, and galloped over the five-mile steeple-chase course
9n which the accident happened. Since then he had com-
monly ridden the horse, and it seemed that he had subdued
him so far as his own management and riding went, though
to every one else Danger was as uncertain and perilous as
16 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
before. The master of the Grange kept two other huuters
besides Danger. He trained racers for hnuters' plates, and
he was the best gentleman rider in those parts. As such his
name was great in the mouths of Sir Jerry Snaffle, Master of
Hounds, John Bullfinch of Hawkwell, and most other people
of their way of thinking. Popularity of this sort, however,
has its drawbacks. If Sir Jerry and John Bullfinch had
often won money through Tom Scarlet's skill and vigor in
the saddle, some other people had lost it. So, on the other
side of the county, there were squires, parsons and farmers
well-to-do, who shook their heads and declared that " Ne'er a
jockey at Newmarket, nor anywhere else, was up to more
dodges, or prepared to take more advantages, in a cross-
country race, than Tom Scarlet." And then it was pointed
out by some, among whom were the leading attorney and
doctor of the neighboring town, that Scarlet had no proper
sense of his own place.
" Sir," said the attorney, " he clapped in before Colonel
Carbine at an ox-fence, and that was the reason the Colonel
got a cropper."
" And went over the Rev. Mr. Tallyho, horse and all, when
they were in Otmoor Brook," said the doctor.
" More than that, sir," cried the attorney ; " the fellow actu-
ally pounded young Lord Doomsday and his thousand-guinea
mare. Scarlet being upon Danger, who ought to have been
shot long ago, and would have been if the coroner had done
his duty."
" Hem [ I attended that case in my professional capacity —
the accident and the inquest, you know. John Scarlet's neck
was dislocated, and he must have died instanter."
" Well, sir," said the attorney, " if you have to attend an-
other such case, caused by the same horse, I, for one, shall
not go into mourning."
Nor was this all that came to the ears of Sir Jerry Snaffle
and John Bullfinch in regard to their young friend. Mole-
skin, head-keeper to the Marquis of Wootton, averred that
Tom Scarlet killed more pheasants in a week than could be
found upon the Grange farm in a year ; besides which, he
was " hail fellow well met" with half the poachers and more
than half the gypsies in the county. But for all that, neither
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK. 17
Sir Jerry iior Joliu Bullfinch would give up Tom Scarlet,
though they sometimes geutly ami affectiouateiy expostulated
with him.
The calls of the master of the Grange at Hawkwell had
become more and more frequent. What had at first been
" lookings in" upon the farmer, to chat over good runs, great
races, and other sporting topics, had gradually changed into
visits to his daughter. While this was going on John Bull-
finch had become somewhat perplexed. He liked Tom Scarlet;
even his very faults secretly endeared him to honest John.
But, then, John had his doubts whether " pounding" Lord
Doomsday, riding over the Rev. Mr. Tallyho in a brook, and
shooting more pheasants than the law^ allowed were just the
gifts for a farmer's son-in-law. John procrastinated. He would
think it over. May was a good girl, a dutiful girl ; the image
of her mother at the same age. There would be no difiiculty
in settling it all by-and-by. He would see Sir Jerry about it,
and if it should become necessary, would consult Lady Snaffle,
who was May's godmother, and whose word in that part of
the county was never gainsaid. So John Bullfinch had let
the matter lie, and meantime all the gossips in the riding had
taken it up. Never had Tom Scarlet's misdoings taken such
color at the tea-tables of Ridingcumstoke as when it was
bruited about that he aspired to the hand of May Bullfinch,
and that her father, " careless and stupid man," did not inter-
pose to " forbid the bans," as one may say. The old ladies in
black silk and lace caps, who had formerly applauded his
most desperate leaps in steeple-chases, and laughed over his
larks among the gypsies, now pronounced Tom a " bad 'un,"
and had " no patience" with May herself. Old Mrs. Oxenford,
a notable woman and wise, summed it all up at the conclusion
of a tea-party by saying, " Tom Scarlet, my dears, is just
about such another as Danger, who broke his brother's neck."
" Why, aunt," exclaimed a merry young lady, " I have often
heard you say that the wild colt makes the good horse."
" Well," cried the old lady, " so he does ; but he throws
a-mauy in the breaking."
May Bullfinch had given Tom Scarlet her maiden love and
trust before she knew it. Matters had gone further then her
2
18 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
father imagined, though there was as yet no absolute plight
of troth between them. lu all probability Young Jack was
the only one who knew how the land lay, and saw that Cape
IMatrimony loomed large through the mist in the distance.
Tiie daring qualities which made many people distrust and
fiear Tom Scarlet really endeared him to May Bullfinch the
more. To her he was always gentle. An Indian maiden who
has tamed a tiger may exult over the tusks and talons which
are not dangerous to his mistress but terrible to other people.
But May never called the young man " Scarlet and Gold,"
and never met the jnercing look of Miriam Cotswold without
some distrust.
A hearty greeting passed between John Bullfinch, Young
Jack, and the master of the Grange. The former, surveying
the chestnut horse all over, exclaimed : —
" If I were you, Tom, I should part with Danger. He is
more trouble than he is worth, to say nothing of the risk, and
of the memory of the accident which befell poor John."
" It is not so easy to part with him as you might think,
sir," replied Tom. " People have a prejudice against him.
Now, I don't deny that Datger wants watching, that he rushes
at his leaps, and pulls a little."
" Pulls a little ! Why he'd almost pull a church down, and
you know it."
"Yes, sir; but I can hold him for all that, and a better
horse across country, when fairly settled to his work, there is
not in the bounds of Ridingcumstoke."
" Very well — a good horse, no doubt — a very good horse.
But the best I ever saw in the hunting field, for a man of my
weight, is Cowslip, and here she comes."
As he spoke a groom led up to the porch a powerful bay
mare, long and low, with great arched loins, heavy quarters,
and long, strong thighs and gaskius, running into big, bony
hocks.
" Ay, she's a good one, she is," said Tom. " A better mare
■was never seen at the cover side. No day too long, the pace
never too strong, and when she rises at a fence she can lift a
ton and take it clean over. Cowslip's the mare of my heart !
But I know of a stallion of another color, and may say I have
got him, that is — nearly as good." He was about to say quilt
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 19
as good, but his eye fell upon May Bullfinch, as she came to
the door, and he substituted " nearly."
John Bullfinch was much pleased. He was very proud of
his hunting mare. It was well known — a matter of boast in
and about Ridiugcumstoke — that he had several times refused
fabulous sums for her. Indeed, after young Lord Doomsday
was " pounded " in a great run by Tom Scarlet, that youthful
representative of the hereditary and collective wisdom of
England sent word to John by ^ir Jerry Snaffle that he could
name his own figure for Cowslip — price was no objection.
" I am going to ride her to the cattle fair, merely for exer-
cise," said John.
" Well, you needn't be afraid to send her along a little,"
observed Young Jack ; " I have let her go a few smart canters
whenever the ground has been good, since the long frost set
in, and I'll warrant her not to blow at a hand gallop in four
miles."
John looked at his hopeful son with symptoms of rising
wrath, for his strong injunctions to him had been never to go
more than a foot pace when exercising Cowslip. But May
interposed, and by fondling the mare, patting her forehead,
stroking her nostrils, and kissing her clean lips, drew John's
attention.
" She knows as much as a man," said John.
" A precious sight more than some, and has experience that
the best man in all England might be proud of," returned Tom
Scarlet.
John thought he meant experience in the hunting field, Vvdiile
the Master of the Grange alluded, in fact, to the kisses and
fond caresses lavished upon Cowslip by May Bullfinch. Young
Jack, however, knew it all, and made a face at May as his
father, Tom Scarlet, and himself walked slowly around the
mare, surveying her proportions from every point of view, with
great deliberation and intense satisfaction. It was as though
they had seen her then for the first time, whereas all three had
thus perambulated round and round her at least a hundred
times, at different periods, and always with the same result —
" there never was such a mare before !" from all three in chorus.
" You haven't heard that Sir Jerry thought of swapping
The Bagman for Danger perhaps ?" said Tom Scarlet.
20 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON,
" Did he ? And you wouldn't take him ?"
" Well, I don't know that I wouldn't, for The Bagman is a
good horse — a very good horse, though hardly up to the weight
of such a man as Sir Jerry."
" You should have taken him for Danger," said May, looking
at the restless chestnut, who had pawed and stamped a hole in
the frozen ground at the foot of the apple tree to which he was
tethered.
" I hadn't the chance," said Tom. " Lady Snaffle broke up
the bargain. ' Mr. Tom Scarlet,' said she, ' I do not want Sir
Jerry Snaffle brought home on a hurdle. Keep Danger for
your own use. You are the best rough-rider in the country."
" And what did you say to that ?" cried Young Jack.
" Say !" said his father, " why nothing, of course. Do you
think Lady Snaffle is to be argued with like a dealer at a fair?
I'll pound it Tom said nothing."
" You are right, sir. I couldn't affirm that Danger is alto-
gether a safe horse," replied Tom Scarlet. " But I am to have
The Bagman for a few weeks and try him. A steeple-chase
next winter is talked of, open to all horses that have been
hunted in the Midland counties this present season. Such a
thing couldn't well come off without Sir Jerry."
" It couldn't come off at all without Sir Jerry. Go on, Tom,
and let us hear all about it."
" Sir Jerry will put in Danger and The Bagman, if it is a
sweepstakes, and perhaps another^
" There will be no need for the other, and I should be un-
willing to let her start if there was," said John Bullfinch, with
his eye on the mare. " Danger can beat any horse I know of
that is qualified."
" I don't know about that," cried Young Jack. " If the
weights are light — that is, not up to welter weights "
" Hold your tongue, sir ! Let Tom be heard. One would
think you knew more about it than either he or I."
" I prefer Danger to The Bagman at any weights, providing
the chestnut has the right kind of a rider," said Tom. " But
between us here, I have as good as got a better horse for the
five-mile journey over our bullfinches and ox-fences than
either of them."
"Ah! then he must be a rasper," said John. "I must
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 21
/
/
mount and ride, Tom. Jack, go as far afield as the Long Hill
and look over the wethers. May, my dear, kiss me. You get '%!,
more like your mother every day. You need not sit up for /
me, my dear, if I happen to be a little late. Fury can be let
loose before you go to bed. Any message for Mrs. Hick-
man?"
" Yes, love to her and Mary, father. Tell them they must
be at our shearing, and I will send word when the cuckoo
comes."
With a friendly nod to Tom Scarlet, and another kiss upon
the cherry lips of his daughter, John Bullfinch mounted Cow-
slip and trotted leisurely away. His children and Tom looked
at his stalwart retreating figure until it was hidden by the
clump of blackthorn bushes around the hawk's well, from
which the place took its name in old times.
" Dear father ! he does so love Cowslip," said May.
"And with good reason. There never was such another
mare," returned Tom Scarlet ; " she's as good as Danger, and
a little safer."
"Alittlesafer— O, Tom!"
"Well, then, a good deal safer. Still, Danger is not half as
bad as he is made out to be. He is not really vicious."
"O, no!" cried Young Jack. "Kind and docile, and just
fit to carry a lady."
Tom Scarlet shook his head, told Jack to saddle Young
Cowslip, a sister of the famous mare, and that he would ride
with him to the Long Hill. Dismissing the boy with a wave
of his hand, he followed May into the great kitchen of the
farm-house, where the shepherd of the estate, old Will Dean,
was already taking his early dinner. The sturdy old man —
knotted, gnarled, gray as an aged oak, and almost as vigorous
— sat at a table on one side of the wide fireplace, in which two
or three billets of wood blazed. May Bullfinch stood before
him, the Master of the Grange by her side. All around the
shelves were glittering with pewter dishes. Flitches of bacon,
great chin^, and large plump hams filled the racks overhead,
and hung upon spikes in the walls. The shepherd carved for
himself from a gammon of bacon, red as a cherry and fra-
grant as a pear ; while the daughter of the house poured for
him good ale into a shining horn from a foaming flagon. Old
22 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
Will was a favorite with May, and he knew it. He often told
her he was shepherd to her grandfather when her father was
such another stripling as Young Master Jack, and affirmed
with many a chuckle that Young Jack charged him with
taking greater care of her ewes than he did of his.
" No lambs yet, Will ?" said May.
" No, Miss, none ; but there soon 'ull be. As soon as ever
there be two or three couple I shall send for 'e. I have got a
little hut built and thatched for 'e inside the fold."
" That's right. As soon as any of my ewes have lambs I
shall be there every day to see them."
" And worth while, too, Miss ! And well worth seeing they'll
be, Mr. Scarlet, as you'll find out in a week or two. There
ain't no such yoes as Miss May's in this county. I know there
ain't, and I have been shepherd on this land more'n forty
year."
" Young Jack's are good ones," observed Tom Scarlet, as
if in doubt.
" Good 'uns ! Ay, for him. But what do you think I said
to Master and Sir Jerry Snaffle last autumn, 'bout the time
of the fair? I said, says I, ' Be you two gentlemen a-going to
exhibit any sheep at this here society ? Because, if you be,
don't you go and exhibit Cotswold yoes.' "
" Well, what then ?"
" Why, then, they says, * Why not ?' And I says, says I,
* Because Miss May is a-going to show a pen of Cotswold yoes,
and she can beat 'e both.' You should have heard the Master
and Sir Jerry laugh. O, how they did laugh when I said,
* If the decision is fair and judgmatical, Miss May 'ull beat 'e
both clean out o' sight.' "
With that old Will laid down his knife and fork, and roared
till the rafters of the kitchen shook again.
TEE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 23
CHAPTER IIL
"The robin cheeped a dolorous note,
And the corncrake from the lea —
The owlet gave an eerie skreigh
As he leapt to the saddle tree."
IT was nine o'clock on a snowy night, and in the smoking
room of the Wheatsheaf there were songs and other sounds
of reveh-y. The Wheatsheaf was a substantial inn, kept by
Mrs. Hickman, at Aylesbury — Aylesbury in the Yale, where
the ducks come from, and where they held the real, straight-
away steeple-chases of fifty years ago. The guests had reason
to be content and merry. In the bar-parlor adjacent Mrs.
Hickman sat in rustling black silk and the fine-thread lace
made by the female peasantry of the neighborhood. In the
bar itself, under her mother's eye, Mary Hickman presided.
It was not like the bars of London gin-shops or New York
hotels, but a snug little apartment, from which fine old wines
and choice liquors were served to the waiter through a little
window, and then carried to the guests in the bright, comfort-
able smoking-room. The men of corn and cattle who occu-
pied the room seemed to be loth to leave it. There was a huge
sea-coal fire in the wide grate. Stout forms lined the high
oaken settle which circled around it. The steam of hot grog
mingled with the curling smoke from many pipes. The light
flashed on spurs and buckles as the yeomen stretched their legs.
There was laughter at passing jokes, and sometimes hammer-
ing on the tables with the butts of hunting whips. Some
think the men of corn and cattle are dull, heavy fellows, but
it is a cockney heresy. They abound in jokes and dry humor,
and have a vast capacity for drink and mirth ; that is, they
had at the time this company held revel in the Wheatsheaf,
much to the delight of its head waiter.
The waiter was not a grave person in the rusty black of an
undertaker's man, but a brisk and cheerful youth in drab
breeches and gaiters, a green coat of the Newmarket cut, and
a bird's-eye neckerchief, one of the sort named after the famous
Mr. Jem Belcher. In fact, when not otherwise engaged, the
24 THE WUITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
waiter sometimes put on the gloves with those of the Wheat-
sheaf's customers who belonged to the young aristocracy, and
it was whisj)ered that no less a man than Jack Perkins, the
Oxford Pet, had offered to bring him out before the public in
that arena which was called the ring, mainly because it was
twenty-four feet square. On this snowy evening the waiter
was in high glee. He left no man unserved. He laughed at
every joke, applauded every song, and was especially attentive
to the comfort and convenience of Mr. John Bullfinch of
Hawkwell. Outside the snow fell fast and it had begun to
blow. But John Bullfinch, with pipe and brandy and water,
and jovial companions, was as independent as Tarn O'Shanter.
The minutes flew. Stories were told of hard runs and great
leaps in the hunting field. There were histories of fat beasts
and heavy crops, mingled with anecdotes of prize-fighters, and
eloquent tributes to the bravery and prowess of certain breeds
of game-cocks and bull and badger dogs. John Bullfinch was
a sort of chairman to the company. The narrators of the
stories addressed themselves chiefly to him. The glasses were
often filled, and every time the jocund waiter carried that of
Mr. Bullfinch to the bar he said cheerily to his young mistress,
" Brandy and water for Mr. Bullfinch, just like the last."
The night waxed on. One after another of the company
departed. Many had to ride far before they got home, and
others had wives to explain to when they reached there. So,
at last, except one or two townsmen, there remained only John
Bullfinch and a dark, lean, sinewy man, who sat at his right
hand, and answered to the name of Jack. This man wore
cord breeches, a velveteen coat, somewhat old and weather-
beaten, with leather leggings and rusty spurs. His look was
wary, yet daring ; his eye was dark, very bright, and very
restless ; and his long black hair fell over the nape of his neck.
Mr. Bullfinch and the gypsy — the man was a sort of horse-
dealer belonging to the tribes, and named Cotswold, though
seldom called anything but Jack or Gypsy Jack — were on very
good terms. The latter was something of a pugilist as well
as a dealer in horses, and the farmer now told him some anec-
dotes of Jem Belcher and Cribb, both of whom he had seen
fight. Perhaps the gypsy had heard the stories before, for he
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 25
did not appear to be especially interested, though he listened
with deference.
" A wildish night, Mr. Bullfinch," said the ostler, as he
came into the room and kicked the snow from his shoes at the
grate.
" I've ridden home on Cowslip in a worse, but we may as
w^ell start," said the farmer. " Saddle the mare and bring her
round. I'll say good-night to Mrs. Hickman, Jack, and then
we will go."
" So you're going, Mr. Bullfinch," said the comely landlady,
rising. " You will have a rough ride of it through the dark."
" The mare knows the road. Besides, I shall have company
to the tarn of the Woottou lands. Gypsy Jack is going so
far."
"Queer company on such a night. You might as well be
alone — perhaps better."
"Not at all, ma'am. Jack is a trustworthy fellow, and a
deep hand. Between you and I, ma'am, very few understand
Jack except Sir Jerry Snaffle, Tom Scarlet and myself."
" And how is Tom ?" said the landlady.
" AVell — very well ! He was at my house this morning on
Danger.'*
" I w^onder he rides that horse, considering what happened."
" Now that reminds me that the last time I rode from here
my horse shied abreast of the fence where John Scarlet w^as
killed, and I was nearly thrown," said the farmer.
" You must be careful, Mr. Bullfinch ; think of May. But
it wasn't Cowslip ?"
" Cowslip never shies, ma'am," replied John, with much
gravity. "You may meditate upon her just as you may in
your pew when the rector is in for a long, slow run, by way
of sermon. Thank you, my dear" (this to Mary Hickman, as
she handed him another glass), " I go over many things besides
brooks and fences on Cowslip, ma'am. The back of a good
horse, going home from feast, fair or market, is the best place
for reflection and meditation that I know of. The action of
the horse settles the thoughts ; and the pace being good, sobers
— that is, steadies — a man. Mrs. Hickman, your health, and
Mary, yours, my dear. You are like my daughter. May —
getting prettier every day."
26 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
The damsel of the Wheatsheaf glanced iuto the pier-glass
over the fireplace with a smile aud mautliiig blush, aud then
tripped into the little bar. There she stood, fair to look upon,
in the midst of glittering crystal aud burnished silver, from
which her face was reflected on every hand. It glowed in the
old wines, and where the potent spirit of Cognac lay, like a tiger
in his den, it shone in the ruby flame. It was an innocent
little face ! seen " through a glass darkly," in the lair of the
turbulent essence, which held fixed the sunshine of a year.
John Bullfinch stirred his grog and sipped, and stirred again,
and as the spoon tinkled in the glass, he thought of wedding
bells, Mary Hickman as a bridesmaid, his daughter May and
Tom Scarlet. The action of the horse was just about wanted
to " settle the thoughts, and the pace being good, to steady
the man." John drank up.
" You are to come and stay two or three days at sheep-shear-
ing time ; but before that you are to drive over and spend the
day among the violets and primroses, when the cuckoo comes.
That's May's message, with her best love."
" Thanks ! thanks ! Our love to her," said the landlady and
her daughter.
"May will let you know when he's heard on the long hill.
The cuckoo, in these parts, is first heard on our long hill. It
was so in my father's time and in my grandfather's. It is so
in mine, and so it will be in my son Jack's, aud in that of
those who come after him. The philosophy of the matter is
that the cuckoo's guided by instinct, which, as Jack observed
this morning, makes young ducks hatched out by a hen toddle
off to the nearest water. Mrs. Hickman, good-night. Mary,
my dear, good-night. Not a step out of the parlor. ' Good-
by, sweethearts, good-by !' "
" Good-night ! good-night !" exclaimed the ladies ; and then
INIrs. Hickman added : " Of all the graziers, dealers, farmers,
and hunting men that visit Aylesbury in the Vale, John
Bullfinch is the noblest man — a perfect gentleman !"
" Good-night again !" as John Bullfinch dropped a shilling
into the ostler's hand.
"And a real good-uight to you, sir," in which the waiter
joined as the huntiug mare struck iuto a canter, aud the gypsy
followed on his vixenish-looking nag.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 27
Through the diraly-lightcd town, and by the muffled,
drowsy-looking watchmen, crawling like beetles under the
eaves and gables of quaint old houses, the horsemen rode.
Then leaving the baying of the watch-dogs behind them, they
wound down the hill towards the north and west and into the
rich vale below. It was about the last of a long and hard
winter — a time when the old tyrant seemed to see, with rage,
that men were getting ready to welcome joyous spring, and so
determined to make the close of his iron sway felt while he
had yet time. The wind blew keenly, and with it drifted a
powdery snow. The sky was cloudy, but behind the pack
there seemed to be a fitful sort of light, which now and again
shone through. It couldn't be the moon, for there was no
moon that night till later, and it shone mainly in the northern
board of the clouded heavens. Commonly the horsemen could
see dimly nothing but fields of snow and straggling hedges,
and then again it would lighten up with a pale glare, and the
cattle and sheep suddenly took shape and form for a moment.
It was not a flickering light, but steady enough while visible,
though coming and going like that thrown from a dark lan-
tern. It was a light of which John Bullfinch did not much
approve. Cats, bats and owls might fancy it, he observed, but
for his part he would rather have good, black, honest dark-
ness.
"Aye," said the gypsy, drawing nearer to the farmer, "this
here light that comes just enough to make us blink and get
blinder, 'ud suit churchyards, ghosts, grave-diggers and resur-
rection men better nor horsemen on the King's highway."
John Bullfinch did not like the suggestion. He repeated
that good, natural darkness would be preferable, but thought
the less said about ghosts and graves at such a time the better.
" The light," said he, " is just such as twenty * Jack-o'-Lan-
terns' and twenty ' Will-o'-the- Wisps' might be expected to show
through the mingled mist and snow of a winter's night."
With that he gave Cowslip the rein, and nothing loth she
dashed along at a better pace, one which made the gypsy's
nag gallop to keep up with her. Over the snow the horses
and their riders went, mostly silent, always resolute, and still
the long easy canter of the hunting mare kept the gypsy's nag
at a gallop. They met the up night mail coach. They ex-
28 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
changed " Good-night," the universal benison, with the coach-
man and the guard in passing. And at last they reached the
turn of the lands, not a quarter of a mile from the Woods of
Wootton. Here the gypsy said to his companion, " Good-night,"
and turning to the right, rode down into the shadow of a green
lane, now white with snow, between tall hedges.
As the gypsy was about to leave him, John Bullfinch pulled
the hunting-mare to a shacking trot and began to cogitate.
The question was, whether he should ride home by the road,
or through the deejD woods and great preserves of the IMarquis
of Wootton. The woods were seldom traversed at night except
by poachers and their enemies, the keepers and watchers.
John, however, was on the most intimate terms with the head
keeper, and was conceded the right of way whenever he chose
to take it. The road, argued he, to himself, is further round
and quite as lonely as the woods. It might be lighter, but he
didn't want any more of the sort of light he had experienced
upon it thus far. Besides, he remembered that he had busi-
nesss with the keeper, and should really be at home all the
sooner for going through the woods and calling upon him. At
the first gate he turned from the highway into one of the rides,
between old oaks and thick underwood. It was not the first
time by many, that John Bullfinch had ridden through these
woods at night to call upon Moleskin. The keeper was a
crony of his, and though they often disputed, they were at the
bottom, staunch friends. John Bullfinch considered vulcipede
a crime very nearly as heinous as murder, except when the
death of the fox was brought about in the orthodox manner
by a pack of hounds. Moleskin, on the other hand, had been
suspected of shooting vixens and trapping cubs about the time
the young pheasants were half grown. John had a sort of
weak sympathy for poachers. Moleskin proclaimed with some
ostentation, that he would shoot every known poacher he found
in the preserves, out of hand, if it were not for the law. John
denounced man-traps and spring-guns. Moleskin pretended
that he had them set at all convenient places, and afifected to
look upon their inventor as a greater man than he who pro-
duced the steam-engine. Their arguments were animated and
long ; and neither ever succeeded in convincing the other that
he was in the wrong. This, however, was nothing against their
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 29
reasoning, for each was a man of obstinacy, and neither was
inclined to give in upon compulsion. Moleskin was a bach-
elor. He had many tastes in common with the old hunters
and backwoodsmen of our Western frontier. He lived alone
in a sylvan lodge, deep in the great, solemn woods, some of
whose oaks may have been as old as the era of the Norman
Conquest. Sleeping much in the daytime, he was as alert, as
watchful and as wary as an old dog fox by night. Like the sor-
cerer of old who entertained a familiar in a black bottle.
Moleskin kept by him the spirit of old Cognac, and John
Bullfinch knew it.
Silently and slowly the hunting-mare cantered over the soft
carpet of snow that lay between the overhanging boughs of
the great trees and the thick belts of bushes, until her eyes
and those of her rider became used to the dim darkness of the
woods. The ride was some thirty feet wide, and smooth as a
bowling green, though with slopes and hi^Js here and there.
The snow hung heavy on the boughs and bushes, and still fell
fast. The wind had veered to the westward, and the fall was
now in thick, damp flakes. Sometimes John Bullfinch thought
it had ceased, but whenever he threw back his broad-brimmed
hat he found, by the spats in his face, that it was still falling.
There was no wind in the ride, but now and then it swept
through the vistas of the great trees with a melancholy sough,
like a wail for evil things foreknown. Once in a while the
yelp of the fox was heard, and the doleful screech of the owl
broke the silence of the night. Then all was still again. The
wood pigeons were silent, and the crows made no motion on the
boughs. But there were murmurings deep in the thickets, as
though the trees had tongues, voices of the ancient wood gods,
heard ere old Pan was dead. A strange glimmer now came
glinting down from the cloudy sky and up from the smooth
snow, and lost itself in the shade of the tall trees and bushes.
The oaks were often overgrown with ivy, and so were thick
with foliage not their own. As his eyes got accustomed to this
sort of weird gloaming, the farmer pricked more speedily along
towards the hermitage where the stout keeper, after the man-
ner of the Clerk of Copmanhurst, kept flagon and crust. Yet
into the dark, beyond the space of his narrow ken, John Bull-
finch now was ever peering. The hunting-mare, too, swerved
30 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
always to the right, and pulled upon the near rein. John
Bulliinch soon began to think that he had some sort of com-
pany in his midnight canter. More and more the notion grew
upon him, until he was pretty nearly convinced that close to
the bushes, on the left-hand side of the ride, there was some-
thing moving abreast of him. He rubbed his eyes and looked
steadily ; he drew the collar of his coat down from his ears
and listened intently. Then he sj)oke to the mare. Cowslip
quickened the stroke, but edged over to the right-hand side so
far that the farmer's boot brushed against the bushes. John
Bullfinch was not a man to linger long in doubt when action
of his own could clear up an uncertainty. He touched Cow-
slip with the spur, gave her a cut with the whip down the
shoulder, and pulled her suddenly across the ride to intercept
that which seeemed to be abreast of him. With a long leap
like that with which she took a brook in stride, the hunting-
mare bounded to the left side of the ride, but though she
touched the bushes just where the shape which had perplexed
her master ought to have been, it eluded her, as though it
were a thing without corporeal substance to its form. This
was passing strange. John Bullfinch pulled Cowslip into the
midclle of the ride and gave her her head. Fast now she went,
faster and faster still, as she felt the close clip of the farmer's
knees, and his delicate pull upon the snafile bridle, but he
soon found that the form he had been aware of rather than
seen before was at her girths again, in the deep shadow. He
looked over his left shoulder at the shape which was nearly
shapeless and so swift, and knew not what to make of the mat-
ter. Again and suddenly he gave the mare a touch with the
spur, and made her dash across to the left, so that he thought
he could not fail to bring about a collision. But none came.
He saw the glint of a fiery eye, and then, like a rack of cloud
and mist in a driving storm, the thing swept by the mare's
haunches and was gone. John Bullfinch was not a supersti-
tious man. He knew no reason why a goblin shape, from the
confines of the other world, should have power to vex and
worry him. He was a true though unworthy son of the
Church, paid his tithes without grumbling, was at the Com-
munion-table at Easter, grace was always said at his board,
through May he gave much in alms to the poor, and he was
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 31
upon good terms with the rector and the curate. All this
passed through his mind — but there was the shape agaiu, and
neither rector, curate, nor clerk at hand to exorcise it. John
Bullfinch was a brave man, but now a chill went through him
as though an ice-tipped arrow from the grim hand of Death
himself had struck his heart and frozen up its fountain. The
good mare, too, trembled between his knees, and John took
this as an evil omen. What might it mean ?
The farmer considered, and was sore distressed to find that
he had forgotten, for the first time in his life, the order of the
sublime sentences which constitutes the prayer of our Lord.
There came upon his ear the sound of a church bell which he
knew. Every night in winter it was rung at the same hour
for thirty minutes, by provision of a dead man's will. In times
long gone by, when that part of the country was mostly mire
and wood and water, the haunt of wild fowl, birds of game,
and beasts of chase, one lost in a wild night and in much dis-
tress, had regained his road through hearing the passing bell
as it was tolled for some poor soul that had gone from the
flesh. For the rest of his life, the man had it rung at the same
hour, and when he died in due course of nature, not starved
in the wild, buried in the snow, or smothered in the fen, he left
property to pay for the continuance of the nightly ringing for
all time to come. Strange to say, the sound of the bell, coming
faintly and dreamily through the trees, brought small relief to
the mind of honest John Bullfinch. He might not have heard
that goblins damned and spirits evil can no more abide the
sound of bell from gray church tower than they can stand the
cheerful crowing of the early village cock. Something of the
virtues of a horse-shoe as a talisman occurred to him.
" But," said he, " the mare can't have cast off' all four of
hers, and it's no good for this gear."
The eflicacy of witch elm and witch hazel for the counter-
action of ungodly spells, and to curb the cantrips of the servants
of the evil one, was well known to him. But it was too dark
to find a wand of either, although plenty grew thereabout.
And besides, John would have been in no hurry to dismount
if he could have found what he wanted. Kocked in the cradle
of the saddle almost from infancy, the back of his horse was
his place of vantage, the mare his tower of strength, and if he
was to contend with things of diabolical origin he would meet
32 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
them on her back. He thought, for just a moment, whether
it would not be better to gallop back to the turnpike road,
but scorning to retreat for ghost or goblin, he clucked to Cow-
slip and rode forward. As if in response to this resolute pluck,
the moonlight now broke faintly through the flying scud
above, and things became more distinct. Away went the good
bay mare over the snow, while the night wind moaned among
the tree tops. With the fumes of brandy dying in him, and
the disordered thoughts and feelings that, swift as dreams,
rushed through him, John's brain was a little confused. The
great stride of the mare bore him rapidly along, and as he
neared his destination he was about to devote to the Ked Sea
— whether the one of water or that whose billows are of rolling
fire — all ghosts, goblins, and demons of the dark. But just
then the owl shrieked, " the fatal bellman which gives the
stern'st good-night." The moon, like a good ship scudding in
storm and mist, sailed into the narrow strait between two dark
promontories of cloud, and revealed the appearance again. It
took shape and form — a phantom horse of great size and power ;
white as the monumental tablets in the chancel of the church
John knew so well — one erected to the memory of John Scarlet,
another over the resting-place of a man done to death upon
the highway. One flash from fiery eyes ! one glare from
glowing nostrils ! the white mane waved in the wind, and the
apparition vanished as the moon sailed behind the dark clouds
again.
The farmer was aghast. He liked not the form of the
apparition, and he was half inclined to say, " Take any shape
but that !" He did say, " I have been charged with thinking
more of horses than of my IMaker, but that was all a lie, and
if this is a visitation, it must be meant in mercy, not in wrath."
He tried to remember whether any farmer, drover, or gentle-
man who rode a white horse had ever been murdered in the
woods, but he could think of none. There came prancing into
his mind the figure of a white horse on the sign-board of an
inn that he sometimes frequented ; and then he thought of that
pale steed who carries the fleshless King, with his all-slaying
dart.
" If it's that white horse, he wasn't on him, which is a con-
solation," said John, as he touched Cowslip with the spur, and
she sped away.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 3'3
CHAPTER IV.
"But, Roman, when thou standest
Upon that holj ground,
Look thou with heed upon the rock
That girds "the dark lake round;
So shalt thou see a hoof-mark
Stamped deep into the flint —
It was no hoof of mortal steed
That made so strange a dint."
F' may be doubted whether the hunting-mare ever went
faster in her life than she did in the short space between
the place where her master saw the neck and shoulders of the
White Horse and the keeper's lodge. If the phantom and
she had been running a neck-and-neck race for a horseman's
soul, the one jockeyed by ApoUyon and the other by an angel
of light, she could scarcely have finished the heat with a more
determined " rush on the post." John Bullfinch threw him-
self from the saddle with a loud halloo, and looked around.
There was no white horse to be seen ; nothing but the good
bay mare, in a lather on the neck and in the flanks. Calling
to Moleskin, who came out with a lantern, to bring him a
blanket, the farmer led Cowslip under a sheltered shed and
slackened her girths. He then wrapped her up, sponged her
eyes and her muzzle, breathed into her wide nostrils three
times, and, taking the keeper by the upper part of his sinewy
arm, led him into the lodge without a word. The keeper's
sitting-room was fitted and furnished suitable to his calling.
Guns in racks, shot-belts and powder-flasks upon the walls, a
white hare stuffed upon the mantel-piece, an old pointer lay
before the fire, a cross-bred dog of the bull and pointer sat
upon the hearth, and a tan-colored mastiff* of great size and
strength, was chained near the case of the old eight-day clock.
The keeper was a tall man, thin, but very muscular and
sinewy, with a deep-gray eye and a grave, cast-iron sort of
face — a watchful, wary, bold and determined-lookiug man.
He had, perhaps, been taking a little brandy and water, for
a black bottle and tumbler were upon the table, with a pipe
and tobacco in a canister of lead. Contrary to his usual cus-
3
34 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
torn, which was to avoid the driDkir.g of spirits neat, John
Bullfinch poured out a dram of brandy, and drank it without
any reference to Moleskin's health.
" Dick," said he, " bring another pipe."
The keeper did so. John Bullfinch filled it, lit it, took a
seat, motioned ^loleskin to another, and then said :
"What do you think I met to-night — this blessed night
that still hang.s over us ?"
" How should I know ? A couple of footpads, maybe. I
have often said you carry too many notes and too much gold.
The temptation to footpads, and, in a measure, to poachers,
shculd be avoided."
" Footpads be hanged !"
"It's only transportation now, unless there is murder as
well as robbery ; and you are alive, I think," said the keeper.
"Don't you be a fo.ol. It wasn't footpads — I could 'have
dealt with them — but something much more serious," said the
farmer.
" What ! do you mean to say that there are poachers abroad?
Have you seen or heard anything of poachers in this domain ?
Because, if you have. Tiger and I must be stirring."
The keeper laid his baud upon his gun as he spoke. The
half-bred bull-dog rose and suifled the air. The big mastiff
looked at his master with sullen, bloodshot eyes, and shook
his chain. John Bullfinch had let his pipe go out. He now
lighted it again, and after a couple of whififs, said :
" Moleskin, do- you believe in ghosts — ghosts and goblins —
what you may call apparitions ?"
"Do I believe in ghosts? and in goblins and apparitions?
Well, not in this domain — not in these woods and preserves.
No ghost with a grain of sense would pick this for his tramp-
in"; frround ; for here, you see, he would meet with mastiffs,
bull-dogs, double-barrelled guns, and so on, to say nothmg of
man-traps and spring-guns, which are set at certain conve-
nient places on these premises."
" That's neither here nor there, sir. I ask, do you believe
in such things in a general way ?"
" In a general way I do not ; but there may be such things
in the proper places," replied the keeper.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 35
" What do you call proper places for such appearances ? Is
this a proper place ?" said Mr. Bullfinch.
" No, sir ; it is a very improper place," replied the keeper.
" To my mind the proper places are churchyards, old, solitary
houses, in which misers have died of starvation among heaps
of hoarded gold ; lone places where midnight murder has been
done and the perpetrators have gone unhung ; the foot of gib-
bets on heaths and moors where you hear the croak of the
raven by day and the hoot of the owl at night. These are the
situations for ghosts and goblins. I have no belief of any in
these w^oods."
" Then I have, for I have just seen one," said Mr. Bullfinch
in his most resolute manner.
The keeper saw that downwright contradiction would be of
little service, but he shook his head as the farmer continued in
a tone serious enough to command attention, if not partial be-
lief
" Look here, Dick ! We are old friends. You have known
me, man and bof , for many a year. Now, something very
strange has happened since I turned into the woods to-night.
Something followed me, or rather kept abreast of me from the
gate of the ride until I drew bridle at this lodge. Twice it
was close to me. Once when the moon broke through the
drifts of clouds, I saw it quite plain, and perceived that it was
as white as the snow itself"
" A fellow in a white smock-frock, with a pocket full of
snares, and a short double-barrelled gun, the stock and barrels
separated for convenience and concealment," said the keeper.
" You ought to have seen the lurcher, too, for I'll pound it there
was one. A mittimus to the governor of Aylesbury jail, or
Oxford castle, lays ghosts of that sort for a time ; and the jaws
of a man-trap, or a charge out of a spring-gun, nicely set and
properly levelled, will do it sometimes more quickly and with
less trouble."
" You are too knowing, by half," said Mr. Bullfinch. " A
fellow a-foot keep up with Cowslip ! I suppose that if you
had been there it wouldn't have vanished into the air?"
" I don't think it would, especially as I should have had
Tiger at my heels," returned the keeper, grimly. " But it is
strange to hear you going on in this way, and to see you look-
§6 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
ing so solemn. You have ridden through these woods on
nights quite .. unkid as this, and you've met all sorts of men
in all sorts of places."
" If this ^ad appeared as a man I should not have thought
so much of ," said Mr. Bullfinch, with great force and de-
liberation.
" Oh ! it appeared as a woman ! I have it ! Miriam Cots-
wold, dark Janet, or some other gal of their infernal tribe, on
the lookout while the men of the gang are after the roosting
pheasants. Your friend Gypsy Jack is at the bottom of this
here audacious job."
" It didn't appear as a woman, either. It came as a horse,
a white horse !" said the farmer.
"Well, what of that?"
" A good deal of it," said John tartly. " I think I know a
horse when I see one. • I ought to, for I was born the night
Pot-8-os was foaled, and have ridden for forty years. This
wasn't a real horse, but the apparition of one."
" What makes you believe it wasn't real t^
" Two or three things. It didn't act like a real horse. Cow-
slip didn't act as if it was a real horse. I felt that it wasn't
a horse with four honest shoes on, made by a mortal black-
smith at an earthly forge."
He then told the story of his ride from the entrance into
the woods, and the earnest narrative was not without some im-
pression on the keeper. Moleskin filled his pipe, replenished
John's glass and his own, and looked fixedly at the farmer for
some moments.
" It is very strange," said he, musingly. " What I can't
make out is the white horse."
" Just so. I can't make it out myself"
" I don't mind telling you now," said the keeper, " but in
strict confidence, people have thought they saw something in
these woods before that was not just right. But then, you see,
it wasn't a white horse, but a brindled dog— a deerhound.
Some fifteen years ago one of my men was murdered by
poachers."
« I remember it. I saw the body, and a shocking sight it
was," said Mr. Bullfinch.
" So it was. Here lay the dog under a hawthorn bush, shot
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 37
through the head. A little further iu the thicket was the
man, with his breast blown in by a charge fired .;ight over the
heart, and close to him, for the powder burnt his clothes.
Several fellows, well-known poachers, were arrested on suspi-
cion, among them two gypsies, one of whom wa ; the brother
of your friend Jack, and the father of Miriam ^ swold. But
nothing could be brought home to them, and ixic murderers
were never detected. The Marquis, as in duty bound, pro-
vided for the widow and her children, but she was doleful in
these parts, and soon moved away, down into Northampton-
shire. Well, they say the man walks, and the dog along with
him, though Hector was my dog, not his ; and the story goes
among the old women, who profess to know, that he will walk
as long as the murderer lives. When he dies and goes to
judgment they say the weary spirit will find rest."
" Do you believe this. Moleskin ?"
" I don't know whether I do or not. I am, as you may say,
a lonely man, and my time is mostly spent in the gloom and
shadow of the woods. I was born under these oaks, and
hardly a night for fifty years but I have heard the hoot of
the owl among the ivy. I don't know whether I believe in
this reputed ghost or not, but I am sure I don't fear it."
" Did you ever see it ?" said the farmer.
" The man, never. I may have seen the dog. In these parts
there are but few like him. Some years ago I came upon a
brindled deerhound, near the spot where the man was mur-
dered, three nights running. At first I thought he was self-
hunting, but he always disappeared'at that particular spot, and
what's more, he left no tracks ; I brought a dark lantern and
examined the ground at night, as the rain would have washed
the footprints away by morning. On the third night I shot at
this dog, and what do you think happened ?"
" The gun missed fire or you missed."
'< The gun did not miss fire and I didn't miss. I am not in
the habit of missing. But .1 didn't hit, either. I shot at his
haunches. Instead of making off, he turned and looked me in
the face — full in the face ! John Bullfinch, as sure as you
and I sit here alive, he was shot in the head, instead of the
haunches ; and it w^as my old dog Hector, the one that was
killed when the man was murdered. Some say there's no soul,
38 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
no spirit in a dog, to come back again ; but this dog did come
back."
" I have heard the same thing remarked about horses, and
hold it to be all a lie, the invention of people who have not
half the sense and affection of a good horse," said John.
" Still, this matter I have been relating throws no light up-
on the Avhite horse. May it not have been a white cart-horse
strayed ?"
" Cart-horse !" said John, with some contempt. " Do you
think there ever was a cart-horse that could keep alongside of
Cowslip, and she at speed ?"
" Well, I suppose not. But there's a white horse, an old
hunter, over at the Barleymow."
*' Flea-bitten gray, blind of an eye, and with a stringhalt,"
said Mr. Bullfinch. He continued : " This had a thorough-
bred head, an eye like one bright star on a night of storm,
and its action must have been perfect — perfect !"
" Tom Scarlet is always getting all sorts of horses. It may
be a new one, escaped from The Grange and broke into the
woods on the far side."
" No such luck. It was an apparition ; that is what the
white horse was, and it portends something, probably a death."
" Come, none of that. I ain't going to die, nor you either,
you know," said the keeper.
" I hope not, Dick ; but Death and the White Horse is a
constant saying all the country through, and has been so ever
since I was a boy."
" It's the pale horse in the Bible, which I take to be a
shadowy sort of a cream. This saying about Death and the
White Horse was all along of a picture painted for old George
the Third," said Moleskin.
" I have seen it, and it is about as much like a real horse
as a hen ; not at all like the appearance of the horse I saw
to-night. Besides, if this was King Death's horse, he had
been throwed, for there was no rider on him," said John.
They sat and conversed for a short time further, but to no
end. Among all the appearances they could remember to
have heard of — some in old churchyards, some in crumbling
mansions, some on lonely heaths, where men all unprepared
for the taking off had been done to death ; some beneath gib-
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK. 39
bets, upon which the bones of criminals swung in the moaning
wind and hollowly rattled — there was none of a White Horse.
At length John started out, tightened the girths of the mare,
and, taking her by the bridle, led her along. The keeper,
with his gun in the hollow of his arm and with the mastiff at
his heels, walked with him, intending to go but a short dis-
tance. It was the dead time of the night. There was no yelp
from the fox. The owl was still, among the ivy of his hollow
tree. No cheerful crow came from a distant hen-roost. The
snow fell silently. The wind was hushed. The leaden sky
seemed to press down almost upon the tree-tops. Mist rose
breast-high from the swampy ground. The men and the mare
plodded along, with the mastifi' in their tracks. The ride they
took was a narrow one, and presently it fell into a deep swale,
in which alders and willows were mingled with the hazel and
the hawthorn.
" It was hereabouts that the man was "
The keeper stopped abruptly, for with a noise like the rush
of a whirlwind the mist was pushed aside, as it were, and a
white horse, dimly seen, swept by them at speed. The mastiff
followed with a savage howl. The men exchanged exclama-
tions, and the keeper felt the caps upon the nippks of his gun.
"If I had had a silver bullet in one of the barrels I should
have fired," said he. " No other metal will bring 'em down."
The dog came slinking back and retired behind them.
" Tiger's cowed for the first time in his life !" said the keeper.
" John, come back and stay with me till daylight. There are
things abroad that bode no good."
" Not I. Come what may I will go through !"
" Well, well, just come back till I melt half a crown and
run it through the bullet mould. With this gun and a brace
of silver bullets, I'd face the devil himself."
"And I will without them, if need be. I fear God, honor
the King, and say confound the devil and all his works !"
With this John Bullfinch mounted the mare, and uttering
a loud " Good-night," rode rapidly aw^ay. The keeper leaned
upon his gun for a few seconds, then cast a look upon his dog
and turned homewards.
40 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
CHAPTER V.
" Sir Leoline, the baron rich,
Hath a brindled mastiff bitch.
In her kennel, beneath the rock,
She makes answer to the clock.
Twelve for the quarters,
Four for the hour :
Sixteen short barks, not over loud ;
Some say she sees my lady's shroud."
IT was not a very uncommon thing for John Bullfinch to be
late at night, but it was seldom that he was late in the
morning, and ill at ease as well. After his midnight ride with
the White Horse-, he was gloomy and depressed, feeling that
something ill was about to happen, or to be disclosed. His
daughter had aired the county paper, and folded it by his
plate. He sat down to the meal with May and his son, but
ate nothing, and let the paper lie untouched. His eyes were
red, yet dull ; for the treacherous spirit of Cognac had changed
from ruby to blue. He stirred his coffee and seemed in deep
thought. The breakfast spoon in the cup made no such merry
music as that which had tinkled in the glass the night before
at the Wheatsheaf. He stared at the white cat and pondered.
A pigeon, flashiug past the window, like a wreath of snow,
made him start. He looked at May.
" I was late last night — very late — much later than I intended
to be. You didn't sit up ?"
" No, we did not ; but I was unable to sleep," replied May.
" Fury barked the live-long night, except just when you came
in. I can't think what ailed her."
" Tramps about, perhaps," said Young Jack ; " but I think
she wants a licking, and I had a great mind to get up and give
her one."
" It was well you didn't," said his father. '* If you had licked
Fury you might have got licked yourself. The bitch is a good
bitch, faithful and bold. She acted after her kind, and, no
doubt, had reason for what she did. I wish some boys were
half as true and sensible."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOR. 41
If they were no more sensible than to howl all night for
nothing "
Young Jack did not finish the sentence, for the door was
flung open by one of the farm men, and John Bullfinch cried :
" AVhat's the matter now ?"
" Murder is the matter now," said Moleskin, striding into
the room.
"No wonder Fury howled!" said May.
John Bullfinch sat aghast. What with the brandy blues,
the White Horse, and the tidings brought by Moleskin, he
was nearly confounded.
" Murder ! Why, how, and where, and who ?"
" As to who and where, it's easy to answer ; but how, and
why it was done, is another thing. I want you to ride over to
my lodge while I go for the doctor. I have had Stevens
taken there. He isn't quite dead, though senseless and left for
dead. He was found within forty yards of where you aud I
parted."
" I knowed it all along. I told you so, Dick !" exclaimed
John Bullfinch.
" Then, sir, if anybody else but you had said he knowed it
all along, I should have took him up as accessory before the
fact, which is just about as bad as the principal," cried another
comer.
It was the parish constable, a little red-nosed man, voluble
and restless, with high esteem of his own wisdom and station.
Parkins, besides being inquisitive and meddlesome by " var-
tue" of his ofiice, naturally was a busybody. He did not en-
tertain such a fair opinion of many of his neighbors as of
himself, but rather held in contempt many people who would
have been much surprised if they could have heard some of
his rapid soliloquies. He valued himself, in truth, very highly ;
first as " one of the authorities ;" second, as the one who was,
in his own expressive words, "not to be gammoned." His
neighbors, high aud low^, were estimated by a sort of sliding
scale, v/ith which their liberality in dispensio^ialt liquor had
much to do. Sir Jerry Suaflie, as one of the authorities. Chair-
man of the bench of Magistrates, stood high on that account,
but higher still because his ale was of rare excellence, and was
to be had at the Hall by whoever visited it, without so much
42 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
as asking. Parkins often visited the mansion on one pretence
or another, and tersely expressed his opinion of the place and
its owner, thus: " Best quality, nut-brown, clear as amber,
sound as a bell — tap alius a-runniug." John Bullfinch did
not stand as high as Sir Jerry in the constable's mental barom-
eter, by some inches. John had backed prize-fighters, and
Parkins hated prize-fighters. They had once or twice " pitched
into the authorities," instead of keeping the King's peace when
solemnly commanded to do so. John suflfered gypsies to camp
in his green lanes, and Parkins abhorred gypsies, especially
Gypsy Jack. John had a sort of weakness in regard to pun-
ishing poachers, and a poacher was an abomination to Parkins.
]\Ir. Bullfinch had once interceded for a shepherd boy taken
red-handed, as it w^ere, by Parkins, with a dead hare in pos-
session, and had so " gammoned the higher authorities" that
the culprit was released with a nominal fine. Still, there was
compensation, and Parkins summed it up as follows : " But his
brew is first-rate ; No. 1, brass tap, right hand side of the cel-
lar ! Best malt, double strike to the hogshead. East Kent
hops ; black horse brand ! Besides, his tankards is good meas-
ure — imperial. None o' them disgustin' and disappintin' false
bottoms with which some low people try to gammon the au-
thorities." Such was the man who had hastily entered while
Mr. Bullfinch was speaking.
" Parkins, shut up. I know what Mr. Bullfinch means and
it's all right," said the keeper. " Go with him and- examine
the tracks about the place where Stevens lay. You'll find Mr.
Bullfinch's and mine at no great distance, and the tracks of
his mare, for it left oflf snowing as I got home. But those are
not the tracks that are wanted. You may find the track of
another horse, whether shod or not I can't say. Report all
to me."
"Not shod — of course not," said John Bullfinch to the
keeper, in an undertone.
"Father," said Young Jack, "there's no use in letting
Moleskin go fofthe doctor. Pll throw the saddle on Young
Cowslip, and go myself I can be there in no time."
"The gig, Jack — the gray horse in the gig," said May.
" The doctor will be there much sooner that way than upon
his pony."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 43
The farmer looked round, and nodded acquiescence in what
had been advanced by his son and daughter. He then gave
his orders promptly.
" Saddle Black Hearty. IMoleskin, you shall ride Young
Cowslip. She is all ready, for Jack has been a-field. Parkins,
you must come on a-foot."
" One minute/' said May Bullfinch ; " Stevens is a married
man."
" Yes, with five children," returned the keeper ; " and how
to break this bad news to his wife I don't know. Of course,
if it comes to the worst, the Marquis will provide for the
family ; but when the wife first hears of it there will be a
terrible taking on ; and I never could bear to see a woman in
great ajnd sudden grief"
" Nor I neither," said John. " But here's May ; I see what
she means to do."
" Yes, I will break this fearful news to his wife ; and may
Our Father in heaven see fit, in his mercy, to save this \)ooy
man to her and the little children."
" Very proper on her part," said Parkins, as May left the
room. " I have always said she was a good 'un, A deal too
good to be throwed away on such a scamp as Tom Scarlet," he
added in an undertone. Then aloud, " As there will be much
to do by the authorities — somebody to be took up and jugged
• — my opinion is that a horn of ale apiece, before we set out
on the investigation, will be the right way to begin."
John Bullfinch made a sign to his housekeeper, and Parkins
soon had his face buried in a tankard. Neither the farmer
nor the keeper drank. The former betrayed signs of impa-
tience, as Black Hearty and Young Cowslip were now at the
door.
" We needn't be in a great hurry. AVe shall be there long
before the doctor," said the keeper. " I only hope there is a
chance for life. Stevens was one of my best men."
"A good, stout fellow, and feared nothing," replied Mr.
Bullfinch.
" A quarrelsome blade, gentlemen, known to the authorities,
and been had up three or four times for assault and battery,"
observed Parkins. " Now, who do you suspect of this here
murder, master keeper?"
44 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
" I have not formed any suspicion yet — have you ?" replied
Moleskin.
AVith his head on one side, and the cunning look of a jack-
daw, the constable laid his finger to his nose and winked
portentously. " Mum's the word now. When the parties be
took up and in safe holt, I'll let you know as much as I do."
" Which is just nothing at all, I exjject," said the keeper, as
Parkins went away.
John Bullfinch and Moleskin followed, and,'being mounted,
quickly passed the constable. They rode along some distance
in silence, but as they neared the wood the farmer said :
"And you think he is fatally injured? Has anybody ques-
tioned him ?"
" It's of no use ; he is out of his senses, and all over blood
from wounds in the head. I'm afraid his skull is broken."
*' With what weapon, think you — a bludgeon or the stock
of a gun?" said John.
" I didn't stay to examine, and it will be hard to say ; he
mumbled a little as I leaned over him, and I made out a few
wandering words. What do you think he said ?"
" Something about his wife and children, no doubt."
" Nothing of the kind ; his mind seemed to be upon what
he saw, or thought he saw, at the time of the attack. I couldn't
understand much that he muttered, but he mentioned the name
of Tom Scarlet, and spoke of a white horse."
" Dick, I'm amazed !" cried John Bullfinch.
" Well, I don't know that I am much. There was a white
horse about there, we know. Now that violence has been done,
I have chucked over the notion of anything supernatural. It's
a good deal too natural when it comes to murder. The ghosts
of men don't break heads in the dark, nor the ghosts of horses
kick their brains out."
" But Tom Scarlet— I know he's rash and wild, but I can-
not believe he did this thing ; he had no enmity against Ste-
vens," said John.
" He has queer associates for a man of his property and
belongings, has Mr. Tom Scarlet," said the keeper ; " he's hail
fellow \\ii\\ the gypsies, and hand and glove with a set of men
from London and Brunmiagcm, who dress well, drink hard,
ride fine horses, and live the Lord knows how. I wish I knew
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 45
what sort of company supped at the Grange last night. This
job was not done till nigh morning. I could tell that by the
blood, and by Stevens's watch, which stopped at about four."
" It looks bad — it looks avvkward ; but I do not believe that
Tom did it."
" He may have been with the man who did it, though,"
returned Moleskin. " But we will say nothing of this to Par-
kins. The first thing is to know whether it's death or some
chance for life."
These were the last words that passed until they reached the
lodge, where they found Stevens still in a heavy stupor. The
doctor came, examined the wounds, and talked as doctors do.
"A critical case; compound fracture; great danger that
inflammation would set in ; concussion of the brain ; the worst
results to be apprehended, but still some hope, with judicious
treatment. Good thing I was sent for instead of ,
a — a — a person of no experience !"
CHAPTER VI.
^' The chough and the crow
To roost have gone,
The owl sits on the tree;
The night wind makes its fitful moan,
Like infant charity.
The wild fire dances in the glen —
The red star sheds its ray —
TJprouse ye, then, my merry, merry men !
It is our opening day."
WHEN John Bullfinch parted with Gypsy Jack at the
turn of the lands, that worthy cantered along until he
was two or three miles from the turnpike road. He then filled
a short pipe, struck a light, and puffing away merrily, went
briskly forward between the tall hedges of the lane. The
gypsies seldom spare their horses, and Jack was about the last
man in England to spare his when there was service to be
done.
The wiry galloway, too, had good blood in him, and went
gaily up to the bit as though he would never tire, unless the
46 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
pace was set too strong. The way the gypsy was travelling
was seldom used except by poachers, tramps, and the people
of his own roving race. Gypsy Jack, however, had no desire
for company, and the loneliness of the situation and the mur-
kiness of the night rather suited him than otherwise. A
smart canter of five or six miles brought him to the verge of
a wide, wild heath. It was a sombre-looking place, even when
the clumps of gorse, which grew here and there, could be seen.
Now it was one waste of snow below, and cloud above, save
far to the right, where a red glow rose like the reflection of a
fire from the mouth of a pit or a lime-kiln. The gypsy rode
towards it. He drew bridle, after some time, near a deep
hollow, in the bight of which a party of his people had pitched
their tents. The embers of the huge fire were all aglow in the
bottom of the glen, and though the tents, with their covering
of snow, could not be distinguished from the white ground.
Jack readily made out the forms of the horses and donkeys
hobbled at the camp. It was no part of his design to show
himself. He reined up under the lee of a thick clump of
gorse and gave a low whistle. Five minutes had not elapsed
before the gorse was parted where the gypsy sat on his horse,
and a boy of some fourteen years old stepped silently out, like
a young wolf, from his lair.
" I thought you wasn't a-going to come at all. You've been
away near a week, and me with such news as never was," said
the boy.
" I was detained. "What is this news ?" returned Jack.
" Jagger come down from Lunnon town," replied the boy.
" I know it. I met Harry Cox at the fair."
" Then you expected him, perhaps ?"
" Perhaps I did, but not quite so soon," replied Jack. " How-
ever, as he's here, he must come to a settlement."
" He won't come to anything of the sort," said the boy, con-
fidently.
"Why not, Ike?"
" Because he's gone again."
" Ah, but he'll return. He dare not try to give me the slip,
or Tom Scarlet either," said Jack.
" But he's done it. He's off by the north road to-night ; and,
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 47
what is more, Tom of Lincoln, who was in hiding, packs up
his bundle, and goes off, too, by the Oxford road."
" Which shows that he ain't going with Jagger."
" Does it ?" said the boy. " I followed him at a distance.
When he thought he was w^ell away, he cut right across coun-
try for the Barleymow. I went upon the scout, and from what
I heard they're off before uow\"
" What horses had Jagger ?" said Jack.
" Two — a bay and a gray."
" Dark or light ?"
"Dark — an iron-gray with black legs."
" You see they can't mean going fast or far, for, with the
groom, they are three men to two horses. Tom of Lincoln
and the groom must ride double. Tom Scarlet and I can
start in the morning, and catch them this side of Stratford,"
said Jack.
" Aye ; but, uncle, it's my belief they know precious well
where to find another horse ; for they had a spare saddle and
bridle. Besides, Miriam W'Ormed it out of the groom that he
thinks they are bound tor Liverpool, and so across the herring
pond to Xorth Ameriky."
The elder gypsy swore a great oath, and remained a few
minutes in deep thought, while the boy stood with his hand
on his uncle's knee.
" Ike, it's a do — a dead sell ! Jagger's an out-and-out vil-
lain, for which there's no excuse, as he's rich. He means to
do Tom Scarlet, and what's worse, to do me — me, who have
always been fair and honest as a dealer, and in other trans-
actions."
" He does. So does Tom of Lincoln, who w^as harbored in
our own tents."
"Aye ! he's another nice 'un. Wants to go over the herring
pond. Well, so he shall, but in another direction, where
there's a place well beknown to some of his kin, called Botany
Bay. What puzzles me is the other horse; yet he was in
Lincolnshire, dark like and — but jump up. We must go to
Tom Scarlet at once. So now ! clip me under the arms and
away we go !"
" I say !" cried the young gypsy, as they galloped over the
48 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
heath, " didn't I make a good pLant upon 'em ? Where would
you have been if I hadn't been on the lookout ?"
" It was good — very well done ; but no better than I had a
right to expect, considering."
" Considering what ?" said Ike, with some disgust.
" Considering your bringings up ; the advantages you've
enjoyed in having had an uncle like me to look after your edi-
cation, and put you up to the time o' day," replied the
guardian.
" Now, you pull up and let me get down," said the boy.
'' If this is all you've got to say after I've been on the scout
two nights and a day, laying in ditches and listening in at
winders, without winking or flinching, you go on and rouse
Tom Scarlet yourself. And mind that there bloodhound, for
he's let loose o' nights, and if he grabs you by the throat "
He did not finish the sentence, for his uncle seized him by
the wrist and spurred rapidly on towards the Grange.
Gj^psy Jack pulled up at the gate of a straw-yard, divided
by a lane from an old orchard. The house itself stood apart
from the farm buildings, a solid "stone structure, frowning
through the night upon these visitors, as it seemed. There
was, however, a light stirring in a stable to the right.
" Now, Ike," said the gypsy, in a low voice, " you know all
the dogs, and you know his room. Get him up, and bring
him here without letting any of the men hear you. Stop ! one
word more : if you see anybody else tell 'em that "
" The night flies apace, and there'll be the d — 1 to pay in
the morning !" was said close to his side.
" You here, Miriam ! By the heavens ! but you startled
me. Girl, I have told you to keep clear of Tom Scarlet.
What brings you here at this time of the night ?"
" What brings you and Ike, if it comes to that ?"
" I may go where a lass has no right to go. I had business
here," replied Jack.
" So had I," said Miriam.
" What business ?"
" To put Tom Scarlet on the right scent," said the girl.
Then she drew her shawl about her head and tripped away,
singing,
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOJST. 49
" ! the bonny White Horse,
To Banbury Cross,
He gallops away, away ?
The Scarlet and Gold,
And the chestnut bold,
May catch him by break of day."
Gypsy Jack and his hopeful nephew looked after their niece
and cousin until her form was lost in the gloom, and a burst
of light flashed forth from the stable. First came a man with
a lantern, then another leading by the bridle the horse Danger ;
and he was followed by Tom Scarlet, booted and spurred, and
putting caps on the nipples of a brace of pistols. They came
on to where the gypsy and his nephew were posted, when the
Master of the Grange said :
" This is a sudden move, Jack. I'm glad you've come, that
we may have a short talk before I go. I did not know that
Miriam had told you."
" She had not. Of Jagger's being here, I heard at Ayles-
bury from Harry Cox. Of course I thought he had come to
square things; but now I learn from Ike, and partly from
Miriam, that he means nothing but a double cross, one on you
and one on me. But what has Miriam said that you are iii
such hot haste? She is my sister's child, Mr. Scarlet, remem-
ber that ; and this scampering over the country by night and
all alone, is not good for her."
" Miriam can take care of herself, Jack ; and you may swear
she'll never come to harm, if I can help it. She's as true as
steel in every way. The lasses of your race are unlike the
country girls of our folk."
" True enough," returned the gypsy, " but people have said
that she is too free with you, and I stand to her in place of
her father and mother, both of whom she lost when young.
But now to this business ! Ike, stand further off and no listen-
ing to what passes between the gentleman and me. It's a
private affair."
" Private be bio wed! I know more about it already than
you do," said the boy.
" Silence, you scamp, and cut it, until I call you. Now, Mr.
Scarlet, what do you mean to do — shall I go with you ?"
" No, better not. I find from what Miriam says that Jag-
ger brought the AYhite Horse into this neighborhood, and hid
4
50 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
him away somewhere until he got the quittance I had left for
him at Oxford. He's also got a pot of money. Instead of
delivering the horse to me, as the bargain calls for, he means
to run him off to America and chisel all his creditors in this
country. Tom of Lincoln is glad to get away, and having a
natural bent towards roguery, is now in with Jagger."
" I'll have him in Aylesbury Jail or Oxford Castle before
he's four-and-twenty hours older," said the gypsy, vindictively.
"I've sheltered that fellow for months, and the London and
country beaks all after him. Besides, this here villain, Jag-
ger, owes me a matter of above eighty pounds, thirty for a
gray gelding, and the other cold money — lent, paid down on
the nail. Now, what are you going to do ?"
" I shall ride straight to the Barleymow. If I find Jagger
there I will take him by the throat, and make him tell where
the White Horse is. If he is n^ot there I shall follow him.
He cannot get away from Danger and me."
"I had better go with you," said the gypsy. "Tom of Lin-
coln may show fight if you are alone, but before me he'll be as
quiet as a lamb."
" The people of the house will be on my side," replied Tom.
" Besides, I am man enough for Jagger and the Lincoln man
together. Then I have these," he added, pulling one of the
pistols from his pocket.
" Beware of using 'em," said the gypsy. " It makes no end
of trouble, the pulling of a trigger does, even when one is in
the right. Remember, my claim against Jagger is more than
eighty pound — a little more. Tell him to settle it if he wants
to escape the beaks, and save his companion from making a
voyage in a transport ship."
" I will get your money. Meantime, stay here and send
your scouts out. When they find I am sharp on their track
they may double back."
" Every road and byway shall be looked to,'* said the gypsy.
" I'll set a plant for them they little think of. Did you ever
hear of such a rogue as Jagger, and him rich ? If a poor
man gets strapped, and has to bolt, it is another matter."
"Jack," said Tom Scarlet, ".I must be moving. Ike, here's
a couple of half crowns for you. Good-night!"
He mounted the chestnut horse. Danger gave a snort and
THE WHITE HOFSE OF WOOTTOK 51
a buck jump into the air, but his master was iu the saddle.
He landed on all fours, and went away at a gallop.
"Jump up," said Gypsy Jack to his nephew.
" There goes a good 'un !" said the boy.
" Ay, a thoroughbred 'un ! A cock of true game, but too
hasty for real serious business. You see, for some matters it
takes a deep, cool head," said the gypsy.
" Yourn, I suppose," returned the boy, with some irony in
his tone.
" Ay, mine. Now, look here ! you think Tom Scarlet's gone
after Jagger and Tom of Lincoln."
" I sartainly do," said the boy.
" Weil, then, he isn't. Particular business, which you -and
I know nothing about, has called him down into Warwick-
shire," said the gypsy, coolly.
" I never heard that the Barleymow was in Warwickshire
afore. I thought it was in Northamptonshire," said the boy,
"And I tell you it's none of your business where it is. Tom
Scarlet isn't gone there."
"Do you think you can gammon me like this here?" said
the nephew, with huge contempt.
" Well, you are one of our family, and we ain't easily hum'
bugged, that's true. But mind now, mum's the word for the
present ! Recollect, you're asleep in the tent this blessed min-
ute, and have been ever since dark, if anybody axes you."
" I know what to say. But nobody will ax me ; they know
it's of no use," said Ike.
" All right ! Hand over them half crowns ; I'll take care
of 'em for you," said Jack.
" Walker ! I'll take care on 'em myself."
" You'll play at pitch and hustle, and lose every penny, be-
sides being pulled by Parkins, or the beadle, for being at it in
church time," said the gypsy.
" How do you know as I won't win ?" cried the boy.
" Why it stands to reason," returned Jack. " Here are yoUj
a boy of twelve "
" Fourteen !" cried Ike.
" Well, here you are, a boy, playing with men, grooms, and
helpers, and what not, that have been at Newmarket, and
Epsom, and Melton Mowbray "
52 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
" Aiu't I been there, too ?" said the nephew, interruptiDg
him. " Besides, if I am a boy, I'm a gypsy boy, and up to
things. Do you think them chuckle-heads can do me f You're
a-thinkiu' of your own losses when Young Dutch Sam walked
into you for the price of a good horse at cribbage."
" If you say another word I'll pitch you off," exclaimed his
uncle, in a rage. Then, after a long pause, he added : " The
cards fell agen me that night."
"They generally do when you play with Sam," said the
boy.
" Sam's a Jew," replied the gypsy, " and they're a people
that have got a genius for games of that sort — it comes natu-
ral. However cute and wary a man may be, he can't do the
Jews, and in the long run they'll do him, if he tries it on.
Therefore, Ike, avoid 'em through life in ticklish transactions ;
but in matters of buying and selling deal with 'em. There's
no better or more liberal business men than the Jews, when
they know you're on the square yourself"
In all probability this wisdom was the fruit of experience,
but it may also be that the "liberal business men" the gypsy
alluded to had very seldom found that he was " on the square '*
himself.
CHAPTER VII.
" Whicli be the malefactor!
FOR the creation of sensation wide and deep in a quiet rural
neighborhood, nothiug is so effective as murder, arson,
highway robbery, housebreakiug, or violence which appears to
have been attempt at murder. Ministries may go out ; dynas-
ties may change ; foreign thrones may topple ; great convul-
sions of nature may happen, and the rustic goes on ploughing,
sowing, reaping, mowing, and keeping his beasts afield without
much concerning himself in such matters. But let Sir John's
keei)er be shot at in the ash spinney, Farmer Bullock's stack-
yard be fired, the steward be knocked off his mare and robbed
of forty pounds, or even Gafier Goodman's geese be stolen, and
the whole country side is aroused. Squire, parson, yeoman,
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 53
constable, bcadic and bumpkin seize upon the one theme for
gossip and declamation. The landlord thrives. There is vast
consumption of nut-brown ale and tobacco. Magistrates ride
to and fro. Officers wear an air of portentous mystery.
For weeks after the events before related there was but one
topic in the hundred of Eidingcumstoke, and no more to epcak
of in the hundreds adjacent. The attempt to murder Stevens
was on every tongue, and so was the flight of Tom Scarlet.
And yet, according to the majority, these things w^re what
they had always expected and confidently predicted. For a
few days Parkins had maintained an air of cautious wisdom
and frozen silence, but under the influence of the tap at The
George and Crown he thawed, and revealed to a chosen few
the ramifications of a great conspiracy in which Tom Scarlet,
Gypsy Jack, Miriam Cotsw^old, and Young Ike were the prin-
cipals, and John Bullfinch, Moleskin, and perhaps the Marquis
of Woottou, the intended victims. The Eadicals, Parkins
thought, were at the bottom of it. The Marquis was a known
*' Church and King " man, so -was the keeper, so was John
Bullfinch. It w^as true that the Scarlets had always been
staunch Tories time out of mind, but Tom was known to have
been in communication with men from London and Birming-
ham, and, besides, having been flatly refused the hand of Mav
Bullfinch, he had come into the plot, partly for revenge and
partly with a view to carry her off* to foreign parts. Then
again, the gypsies, as Parkins had always declared to the
authorities (and more's the pity that he wasn't listened to),
ought to have been transported long ago. Having hit upon
this theory, the constable turned it over so often in his mind
that, by a natural process, he came to believe it, and not only
revealed it to the chosen few at The George, in whose age and
discretion he could confide, but to the butler and page at Sir
Jerry Snafile's, where he called every day to report progress.
He enjoined secrecy, but of course the page hurried with the
news to the housekeeper, the ladies' maid, and the cook ; while
the butler was on thorns, as he metaphorically expressed it,
until he had the opportunity of telling it to the steward, a man
of much sagacity and decision of character, charged with the
collection of the rents of Sir Jerry Snaflle's two estates. The
page was rather large for his livery, and much communication
54 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
with the huntsman, the whippers-in, and the hunting-grooms
had so excited his ambition in regard to sport, that he was
really above his buttons. He addressed the eager ladies, after
having related what Parkins had said with a few embellish-
ments, after this manner :
They knew something of poachers and poaching — he (the
page) did, for unfortunately his mother's brother had been
taken up for it, unjustly, four or live times. None of his
father's relatives — bar two — had ever been charged with it,
and they were acquitted. Therefore, it must be admitted that
poachers were up to anything. The ladies were, of course,
familiar with gypsies
" Not at all !" cried the cook and the ladies' maid promptly,
though the fact was that Miriam Cotsvvold had told their for-
tunes for a shilling a-piece, and cheap at the money.
The page meant familiar with their disposition to depreda-
tion and crime. Perhaps they had heard of pirates. Now,
he had it from the postboy at the Wheatsheaf that a sailor of
dark and sinister appearance had held a long consultation with
Gypsy Jack in the inn-yard the very day before Stevens was
assailed, and there was no doubt he was one of the gang.
" Why ain't they arrested ?" said the cook.
" Because they ran away — bolted," replied the page, " be-
fore the warrants were out."
It was true that Tom Scarlet had left the neighborhood, and
that the gypsies, after the manner of their people, had silently
disappeared, so that, in the glen where their ponies had browsed
and their fires had blazed, there Vv'as nothing but white ashes
when the keeper went to reconnoitre the ground.
" And so," said Farmer Stubbs, after listening to the recital
of Parkins for about the tenth time, " all this here has been
done and nobody took up."
There was that in the farmer's tone which might imply some
doubt of the constable's vigilance and activity.
" You see," said Parkins, " when there's a case of this kind,
people mustn't be took up haphazard. They must be pulled
according to law, and they can't very well be pulled when they
have cut away and given leg-bail for security. Now, Scarlet
has cleared himself out of the country, no doubt ; Gypsy Jack
is also out of our jurisdiction, besides which, the magistrate's
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 55
clerk and Moleskiu say there's no evidence to keep him, if I
had him in holt."
" Then the amount of it is, that as Stevens is getting better,
nobody'll be took up at all," said Stubbs.
" Won't there, though ? From information I have received,
I think I may venture to say, that I shall pull somebody in
less than three days."
" On this account ?"
" On this here account. You just wait for two, or, say, three
days."
But though Parkins had it cut and dried, and many agreed
with him, there was a minority who either remained in doubt,
or were satisfied that Tom Scarlet had had no hand in the
crime. This minority included John Bullfinch and the keeper.
Still, they could not account for his prolonged absence from
the Grange, and could gather nothing from his men as to his
whereabouts or probable return. Moleskin, silent, active and
wary, pushed his quest in every direction, but nothing had
come of it.
" I can't account for his not being here," said John.
" I can't account for that white horse being there," replied
Moleskin. " Gypsy Jack, Miriam, and Ike have disappeared,
too — gone like bubbles on the stream. The tribe is now in
Bedfordshire, but neither Jack nor Miriam nor the nevy is
with them. I have had a man among them, and I know it."
" He can't have gone off with Miriam — hey, Dick ?"
" I think not," said the keeper, " for my opinion is, that he
was dead struck after your daughter May. Still, as a bache-
lor, I don't pretend to much knowledge — I mean knowledge
from experience — of that sort of thing. We must wait, and
we'll say nothing about the white horse for the present Ste-
vens is out of danger, and slowly recovering. He says he saw
a white horse just before he was struck, but who beat him
down he cannot say. As soon as I hear of anything to the
purpose I will come over."
Mr. Parkins had examined Stevens many times, and had
been sorely puzzled by this white horse. It was clearly impli-
cated, and if he could have found one in the neighborhood
answering the description, he would have thought it his duty
to " pull it up." In vain he re-examined and cutely cross-
56 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
examined Stevens. In vain he had over from the nearest
market town a tippling, red-nosed man in rusty black, a law-
yer's clerk, who plied the under-keeper with leading questions,
and consumed many tumblers of hot gin-and-water. AH would
not do. They could neither get the white horse out of the
case, nor, properly saddled and bridled, into it. He was run-
ning loose. The turnpike man was questioned. Had he seen
Tom Scarlet on the morning in question ? He had. The
young man had passed through his gate soon after daybreak.
" On a white horse ?"
" Not a bit of it. On a dark chestnut — the hunter Danger."
The lawyer's clerk had another round or two of gin-and-
water, and then " summed up" by informing Parkins that if
ever the case came to trial, the counsel for the defence would
ride that white horse clean through the indictment.
May Bullfinch, innocent as the dove, if not timid as the
fawn, had been shocked and deeply pained by the affair. She
believed Tom Scarlet to be innocent, and her brother Jack
maintained the same with such vigor and emphasis, that he
greatly reassured her and fortified her conviction. Explana-
tions ! Did May think he should take the trouble to explain
a charge made by Parkins ?
The truth was that Parkins had been much exasperated by
the conduct of Young Jack since the morning of the discovery.
He was "flying in the face of the law, manifesting contempt
for the authorities, and had better be careful — accessories after
the fact could be pulled."
May visited the under-keeper's cottage nearly every day,
taking him wine and such delicacies as the doctor allowed him
to have. She was greatly liked by Stevens and his wife, and
^Yas the prime favorite of the children. So great and so ap-
parent had her influence with the family become, that the
astute and vigilant Parkins, to use his own expression, "smelt
a rat" in that quarter. She would sway their minds and mould
the man's evidence so as to clear Tom Scarlet. Justice would
be defeated. The felony would be compounded and hushed uj),
and nobody so much as pulled, even for a preliminary exami-
nation upon probable cause, unless he, Parkins, watched her
stratagems, detected her manoeuvres, and defeated her plans.
May sat in the front room of the cottage with the brown,
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 57
curly-headed little boys and girls of the Stevens household all
about her. A feast of nuts and cakes, with bread and rasp-
berry jam, was interrupted by a question to May from their
father, as to whether any news had yet been heard of Tom
Scarlet.
" There is none," replied May. " My brother was at the
Grange yesterday. The men neither know where he is nor
when he is likely to return."
"It's queer, yery queer!" said Steyens, passing his hand
before his eyes. " I haye been considering things, and I think
that he didn't do this job for me."
"Oh, Steyens, I am so glad — so very glad to hear this from
you," said May. " I always felt certain that he was incapable
of such a thing."
" Well, Miss, I dunno as to that. It was pretty well settled
that he was a yery hard hitter when his blood was up, and I
don't doubt his capacity at all, but I think it wasn't him."
" I am sure it was not," said May.
" And I be sure as it was. Now, what have you got to say
to that ?" exclaimed the constable, rubbing his pimpled nose
with the nob of his walking stick, as he stood in the doorway
and surveyed the group.
The children hid themselves. Stevens told Parkins to come
in, and the latter entered. May Bullfinch met him.
" What right have you to say that ? What are your reasons ?
Where are your proofs ?" The female Bullfinch seemed in-
clined to fly at him and peck him, as birds do those who molest
their young in the nest.
" Reasons ! I don't give no reasons to nobody ; not even to
their honors on the bench. Proofs ! proofs ain't to be called
for in this stage of the investigation," said the learned consta-
ble, in some heat. " I know he done it, and that's enough. If
anybody else had done it I should have pulled 'em. If he
hadn't abscondulated, I should have pulled him."
" If he hadn't what ?" said May.
"Cut it, mizzled, bolted, run away!" The learned consta-
ble would no doubt have added "skedaddled," if that express-
ive word had been then in use, but it was not.
" I don't care for all that. I don't believe it was him," said
Stevens.
58 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N.
" You don't believe it was him as done it," said Parkins,
with slowness and severity. " Didn't you think you saw him ?
Ain't there a warrant out? You don't think he done it!
What's the meaning of this here prevarication ? Is it the re-
sult of a bargain, an unlawful bargain, to compound the
felony?"
" Compound be blowed — there's no prevarication about it.
I don't think he struck me, and so I shall swear," said Stevens.
" That's right, Stevens. It's the truth, and do you stick to
it," said May.
" Miss Bullfinch, you be interfering with this case, and sug-
gesting things to the witness, clean agen the law, and in op-
position to the authorities and the course of justice," said the
learned constable.
" Justice ! to put the crime upon an innocent and absent
man. Here is the only person that can know anything about
it, except the perpetrators, and he says Mr. Scarlet is not
guilty of it."
" I know he does, and it's a precious nice statement for him
to make. But I see it all !" said Parkins, eyeing a bottle on
a side table. "You've been giving him drink, and it's flew to
his head. That's what's the matter with him."
" No more than the doctor ordered," said Stevens.
" This is merely sherry wine, and you may see that the cork
has not been drawn," said May.
" Well, then, draw it at once. I don't care if I take a drop
with him myself. Miss," said the placable constable. " Sherry
wine, sich as your fiither keeps and has had on hand ever since
your brother's christening, is suverin as a cordial for sick peo-
ple, and wun't do them in health any harm. All the author-
ities agree in this."
" It was intended for the patient only, but here, sir," she
replied, handing him a glass, after some movement among the
bottles.
Mr. Parkins accepted, and drank a very fair dose of physic
before he discovered the trick put upon him. He dashed down
the glass with an oath, and was about to leave, when he was
met in the doorway by John Bullfinch and the keeper.
" What's the row, now ?" said John.
"Oh, nothing — nothing, except a plan to compound the
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 59
felony, and save Scarlet from transportation. That's all !"
said the indignant constable.
Moleskin pushed by him to the easy-chair in which Stevens
was seated.
" Bill," said he, " you seem to be doing pretty well under
the care of your wife and Miss May Bullfinch."
" Miss Bullfinch has done as much for me as the doctor, if
not more. I shall teach my children to say, 'God bless
her !' " said Stevens.
" We want to hear your account of this matter once more.
Every word and everything," said Moleskin, impressively.
" Stop !" said the constable, beckoning Moleskin to a corner.
"All this here'll be irregular, and, I may say, agen the law.
Mr. Bullfinch is not in the King's commission and confi-
dence."
" No, but he is in that of the Marquis and Sir Jerry Snaffle,
and, unless you are a fool, that will be enough for you,"
returned Moleskin.
Parkins assented, but not with a good grace.
" Have you made any further discovery, Parkins ?" said
John Bullfinch.
" Seeing that Tom Scarlet done it, there's no more to be
made, except to find out his accomplices and pull 'eai up," the
constable replied, with a dark look at May.
They then turned to Stevens. He recapitulated minutely
all that he remembered, winding up with the declaration that
he could not swear to anybody as having struck him, but was
satisfied, in his own mind, that Tom Scarlet did not. Whether
he was there or not he could not say.
The constable flew into a rage, but suddenly cooled down
at Moleskin's stern eye and the hot look of John Bullfinch.
" I have a great opinion of the practical experience and
sagacity of Moleskin in matters of this sort," said John. " He
has made a discovery and a suggestion "
The learned constable was about to interrupt and protest
against this, but the farmer waved him aside and continued,
authoritatively : " I say, a discovery which is important and a
suggestion which is wise."
" What's the discovery ? Never mind the suggestion !" said
the little man, with some sarcasm.
60 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
" The discovery is, that Gypsy Jack is in this neighborhood
again," replied Mr. Bullfinch.
The constable was sorely vexed. Jack in his old haunts ;
the keeper and John Bullfinch with knowledge of it ; and he,
the constable, one of the constituted authorities, with a char-
acter for craft and vigilance at stake, in entire ignorance. He
looked blankly at them and said, " He shall be took up forth-
with."
" A bad plan," said the keeper ; " there's no evidence against
him ; nothing to hold him on."
" No, none at all," Mr. Bullfinch continued, " but Moleskin
suggests that, under the circumstances, he is sure to know
more or less, and it is our business to get all the information
we can out of him. We must draw for Jack as hounds draw
a cover, for he's as cunning as an old dog fox."
" Of course he'll tell all he knows when you question him,"
said the ironical constable. " But it's all right ; proceed in
your own way ; and when you have got his story, which is sure
to be made up of the biggest lies he can think of, I'll clap in,
and conduct the cross-examination. That's the only good
that'll come of this here present investigation. But where is
he, and is the gang back ? the dealers, the tinkers, the fellows
that sleep all day and rob and poach all night ; and the for-
tune-tfellers — be they back with him?"
" There is no one with him but young Ike, and he is at the
Barleymow," said the keeper.
" The Barleymow ! I think you said the Barleymow !" ex-
claimed the indignant constable. " Why, this is one of the
most howdacious doings I ever heard of. Here he is, instead
of hiding in a hedge, or a hovel, put up like a gentleman born
at the best cross-roads inn in the country, slap under the noses
of the authorities !"
" That's enough !" said Moleskin, taking up his gun ; " come
along."
The committee of inquiry proceeded on their mission. When
they reached the Barleymow they found Gypsy Jack very much
at his ease. He was sitting on the horse-trough, in the genial
spring sunshine, entertaining his nephew and the ostler with
what must have been a facetious story, as there was loud
laughter among them. At the approach of John Bullfinch
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 61
and his party, the keen black eyes of the boy lighted up with
intelligence, perhaps with glee. Gypsy Jack was more wary.
Without looking straight at the new-comers, he made a sign for
the lad and the ostler to leave. He then rose, and met the
farmer of Hawkwell with apparent frankness and cordiality.
He flashed a side look upon the keeper, and then met his gaze
in a way that plainly said, " Now, you know me, and I kno\7
you. What are you going to do about it ?" The constable
was regarded with a stare which might imply surprise, or
might indicate contempt, but certainly not alarm. The gypsy's
experience in various matters had, indeed, led him to form a
rather derogative opinion of those Parkins commonly called
" the authorities," meaning himself, four or five more consta-
bles and tithiug-men, and as many beadles, in the vicinity.
There was, in those days, no rural police. Gypsy Jack sur-
veyed the constable very much as an old gray badger or a
wild-cat might look upon a noisy but not dangerous little dog
in a wood. At a word from Mr. Bullfinch, they passed into
the Barleymow, a large, old-fashioned, roadside house, full of
all the comforts of the days of stage-coaches and post-chaises,
and were shown into a private room. The gypsy, sitting oppo-
site to Mr. Bullfinch, looked almost constantly, and always
confidently, into his clear blue eyes. He took no notice of
Parkins, and very little of the solemn-looking keeper. Mr.
Bullfinch returned the gypsy's gaze with some unsteadiness,
not knowing exactly how to begin to " draw for the old dog
fox" before him. He said something about the " good of the
house," and bad weather, and ordered gin-and-water and pipes.
Bad weather ! It was a beautiful day in spring. The sun
shone through the latticed windows, the scent of the violets
rose from the bank under the hawthorn hedge, the goldfinch
sang among the blossoms of the plum tree to his nesting mate,
and lambs were skipping at play in the pasture on the nearest
hill. The gypsy's eyes twinkled, and the constable nodded
approval, as the waiting-maid placed the liquor and pipes
before them. Mr. Bullfinch lighted his pipe with almost
Dutch deliberation, and then began :
" You remember the night of Aylesbury fair. Jack ?"
" I've had no call to forget it, sir, as I know of," replied the
gypsy.
62 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
" SometlnDg happeDed that night," said Mr. Bullfiuch.
" Very likely," said Jack, with much comjoosure; "some-
thiDg commonly does happen when gentlemen drink much of
the strong brandy-aud-water they serve at the Wheatsheaf, and
ride home late."
"This here's prewarication," said Parkins, aside to the
keeper.
" Moleskin's man, Stevens, was set upon that night in
Wootton woods, beaten within an inch of his life, his skull
fractured, and he was left for dead."
"Well, what of it?" said Gypsy Jack, with a bold and
steady stare at the yeoman.
" Plere's a villain !" said the constable to Moleskin.
" The next day," Mr. Bullfinch continued, " it w^as found
that you had left the neighborhood ?"
" I dare say it w^as, if anybody thought it worth while to in-
quire," said the gypsy. " I don't send the bellman round to
tell folks when I am going to change camps, and I went off
without saying good-by to Parkins or the keeper. I had busi-
ness elsewhere."
" It was discovered that same morning that Tom Scarlet had
left the Grange, and he has not been seen or heard of since,"
said John Bullfinch.
" Yes, he has," said Jack.
" By whom ?"
" By me."
" Then you're the chap I be after as accomplice and acces-
sory, both before and after the fact," cried Parkins.
" 'Complice in what ?"
" In the murder — the attempt ! Come, none o' your non-
sense. This may turn out a hanging matter."
"Hanging be d — d," said the gypsy, with contempt. "The
man isn't dead, nor likely to die ; and if he was as dead as
mutton, I could prove a halibi by five witnesses."
" What sort of witnesses ? Your gang that was camped at
the heath won't do," said the constable.
" I've three without any of them ; and here sits one," said
the gypsy, pointing to Mr. Bullfinch.
" It is mainly as he says," remarked Mr. Bullfiuch. " Par-
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO'OTTON. 63
kins, be quiet, and make no further interruption. Now, Jack,
where did you see Tom Scarlet?"
" In a good many places."
" More prewarication," murmured the outraged constable.
" I mean the last time," said the yeoman.
" Well, sir, I met him at a horse fair in Lancashire the last
time I saw him."
" When was this, Jack ?"
" I don't think I shall be able to remember when it was
until I find out what is to come of all this cross-questioning,"
said the gypsy.
" Well, well ! what did he say concerning this attack upon
Stevens?"
" Nothing at all. I believe he did not know of it. He had
other things to talk about."
" Well, you knew of it," said the keeper " and what did you
say about it?"
"Nothing at all. It isn't such a wonderful thing for a
keeper's man to have his head broke, that people should pre-
fer it to their own business when in another part of the coun-
try. He isn't the first that has had a crack on the crown in
one of the Marquis's covers, and I don't believe he'll be the
last," said the gypsy.
" I dare say he will not," the keeper remarked, grimly.
"I think there's been enough said about Stevens," returned
the gypsy. " In my opinion the breaking of a head or two is
a very trifling matter."
" And in mine it's a lagging matter, when the head broke
is that of a constable in the execution of his duty or a keeper
in a preserve, watching in the night season," cried the irasci-
ble constable. " For why ? because the law in that special
case made and provided — as anybody may see by looking into
the act — which means the statute; — is broke too, and not all
the currant jelly and sherry wine that May Bullfinch could
furnish gratis in a twelvemonth could mend tliat again."
" Where do you think Tom Scarlet is now. Jack ?" said the
yeoman.
" Well, sir, if the wind has been fair, and the passage any-
thing like good, he ought to be very near the coast of America
by this time."
64 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
"America!" exclaimed Mr. Bullfinch. "What should he
do iu America? What took him to America?"
" Particular business," replied the gypsy.
"Which," iuterposed the irate constable, "is the case with
all of 'em. The particular business of nine out of ten that
cuts away from this country to that is to defeat the authorities
and avoid the service of a little docyment running in the name
of our Suverin Lord the King,"
" What is this particular business, Jack ?" said the farmer.
" I can't say — that is, I won't say. It is private, but no
harm," replied the gypsy.
" I don't know about that. Private and sudden business
never took me over sea," said John.
" No, nor never will, sir !" exclaimed the admiring consta-
ble. " Forty years and more have I knowed you, and you
never cut away for fear of a little docyment proceeding iu the
name of our Suverin Lord the King. Hows'ever, there'll be
no splitting on the part of this here — party. You may believe
as much of what he says as you like, but he won't gammon
me — I ain't to be gammoned."
With this the astute constable walked out of the room. Mr.
Bullfinch and the keeper, finding they could make nothing
of the gypsy, soon followed.
The constable surveyed the front of the house. Thence "he
went into the garden bowers, among the bees and spring
flowers. With some rem.arks upon the wisdom of the busy
bee, and an allusion to the properties of honey, he took a seat
which commanded a view of the back door, and soliloquized :
" The reward is sure to be liberal, and it will be all my own
— no going halves. The keeper and him (meaning Mr. Bull-
finch) can have no claim ; for, though they knew the gypsy
was here, they haven't suspected, up to this time, what he's
been up to. It took my experience and penetration to find
that out."
He rose, went to the front of the house again and took a
seat on the horseblock. Mr. Bullfinch and the keeper ap-
proached. Parkins, regarding them with an air of profound
mystery, said in a guarded tone :
" Gypsy Jack must be took up. I'm going to pull him here
and now, and may want your help."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 65
" Nonsense ! he had nothing to do with it," said John.
" Perhaps not with the Stevens case, but how about a higher
crime ? Murder will out ! That is, when there's a certain
sort of man to find it out."
" What murder do you mean ?" said John.
"Hush! speak lower! The murder of Tom Scarlet. I
have hit upon the key to the whole business, and it's as clear
as day. The gypsy's cock-and-bull stories about horse fairs,
business over the water, and what not, don't gammon me. I
ain't to be gammoned ! Tom Scarlet has been made away
with, most likely by hocussing and burking. His body, sold
to the resurrection men, has been biled by this time. Jack
was one of the principals, and he must be took up."
This prompt and positive recital of horrors made Mr. Bull-
finch open his blue eyes to the widest possible extent.
" What evidence is there?" he asked.
" Plenty, as I'll show when he's collared and handcuffed,
and has no chance to cut away and get shet of the watch and
other vallybles taken from the murdered man. I hope we
shall be able to find the body — that is, the skeleton ; for if
we don't, the counsel as defends this here villain will pretend
that there's no corpus delicti — cor2Jus delicti ! Mr. Bullfinch,"
added the learned constable, " the legal meaning of which I
will explain some other time, if convenient."
"If there is plenty of evidence, let us hear a little of it," said
the keeper, in his dry, matter-of-fact manner.
" Well, what be the facts to one used to such investigations ?
In the first place, this gypsy bears a noted bad character — a
shocking bad character ! He's up to all sorts of games against
the law, and has no respect for the authorities. He meets Tom.
Scarlet in some out-of-the-way place. The young man has a
large amount of money about him — it was his habit to carry
a deal of gold."
" By George, Moleskin, that's true !" exclaimed John Bull-
finch.
" Not so loud — not so loud !" said the watchful constable.
" He pretends to be cutting a stick out of the hedge yonder,
but's he's really a-listeniug to us, and can hear half a mile or
thereabouts. Now, you can swear to Tom's carrying the gold
yourself, Mr. Bullfinch. You can prove that."
5
66 TEE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N.
" I can swear to the habit, but not to the fact, in this in-
stance," said John.
" It's all one for that. The fact is to be inferred from the
habit, and so the counsel for the Crown will say, when this
here amazing and celebrated case comes to be tried. Besides,
Tom left but little money at the Grange, you say, and you
don't think his men have robbed the bureau, do you?"
" No," said John Bulllinch, " they are honest lads — 1 know
them well."
" He always used to keep a deal of money in gold and
notes," said the constable, " and the old house would have been
robbed over and over again only for his name as a dare-devil
and the knowledge of double-barrelled guns and pistols all
over the premises, to say nothing of bull-dogs and bloodhounds.
Housebreakers, Mr. Bullfinch, picks their customers, just as
you picks the easy places to ride at in a hard run."
" Go on with your evidence," said the sententious keeper.
" The caps have snapped every time you've pulled the trigger
so' far. Come to the point. Didn't I hear you say the gypsy
had Tom Scarlet's watch ?"
" I said, ' No doubt he had ;' and I say it again. Let him
be took up, and you'll see," replied the constable.
" No go !" said the keeper. " It's all just like the castles
children build with cards — take one away, and down come all
the rest. As for Tom Scarlet, I believe him to be alive and
well this minute, and, as the gypsy says, gone abroad on some
sort of a wild-goose chase that very few men would under-
take."
" I'll see Sir Jerry Snaffle about this," said John Bullfinch.
" He's a great hand to puzzle out a faint scent and hit off the
true hunting line."
The constable heard Moleskin's remarks and the yeoman's
resolution with much disgust.
" Assault with intent to kill committed," said he to himself.
" Murder as good as proved, and nobody took up ! while one
of the principals is swaggering about like a lord in the land,
and regularly gammoning everybody but me. This comes of
the interference of farmers, keepers and the like with the real
authorities."
TEE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 67
CHAPTER VIII.
"Then came faire May, the fayrest mayd on ground,
Deckt with all dainties of her season's pryde,
And throwing flowers out of her lap around;
Upon two brethren's shoulders she did ride,
The twinnes of Leda; which on either side
Supported her, like to their soveraine queene.
Lord ! how all creatures laughi when her they spide.
And leapt and daunc't as they had ravished beene,
And Cupid's selfe about her fluttered all in greene."
THE namesake of the nymph, who rode upon arms of Leda's
twins, was not in higli favor with society in and about
VTootton and Kidingcumstoke, when the latter scattered her
flowers and threw around her sweets. May Bullfinch had
displeased many of those who had constituted themselves the
inquisitors and censors of other people's conduct. If any one
wants to incur the resentment of his neighbors, let him deny
some proposition they have laid down as a truth. Let him
have the hardihood to withstand " public sentiment" and in-
sist upon holding his ow^n opinions. This May Bullfinch had
done by refusing to listen to those charges against Tom Scarlet,
which had been proclaimed and enlarged upon ovei* almost
every tea-table in the riding. In spite of his loose reputation,
which had been fired at her a thousand times, point-blank, by
all the gossips of her own sex ; in spite of his sudden depart-
ure, just at the time of the assault upon the under-keeper ; in
spite of his continued absence, of his silence, and of the fact
that Miriam Cotswold had also disappeared and still remained
away, May's faith had never wavered. With a spirit like
that of the old knightly challengers, she maintained his inno-
cence and defied all comers. She was argued with, but not
shaken in her belief and trust ; she was coaxed, but it was of
no avail ; she was scolded, and she laughed at invectives. At
last the old ladies gave her up as " past praying for," pro-
nounced her a very suitable match for Scarlet himself, and
fell to pitying the blindness and weakness of the stupid man,
her father. The farmer had held several interviews with Sir
68 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
Jerry Snaffle, but the baronet, after much beating about the
bush, had confessed that he was unable to hit off the scent.
Youno: Jack was altoojether of his "sister's mind, and Parkins
was in doubt whether the boy was " gammoned" by his sister,
or was trying to gammon other people within the metes and
bounds of Ridingcumstoke. Another staunch friend of Tom
Scarlet was the busy and influential landlady, Mrs. Hickman,
of the Wheatsheaf The good lady, with her daughter, pretty
Mary, had driven over to Hawkwell in her gig, and held
counsel with May Bullfinch. She knew Tom Scarlet and
Gypsy Jack well, and assured May that Tom would come out
all right in the end. She also knew Parkins well, and told
May that he was a fool, a " tippling, conceited fool of a man,
who ought to be ducked in a horse-pond ; and she had a great
mind to have it done." May thought so, too, and parted from
Mrs. Hickman much comforted.
Old Winter now had fled in perfect rout before the front of
brisk and lusty Spring. The fields were green with grass and
growing crops, the trees thick with expanding leaves, the
hedges whitely powdered with the fragrant May, the cluster-
ing blossoms of the hardy hawthorn ; and here and there were
warm tints of buds of the crab, and the blush of the wild rose
bedecked the bending briar. The cowslip, the crocus and the
daisy spangled the smooth pastures. Under the trees of the
copse the delicate primrose bloomed ; over the thriving wheat
fields cloud and sunshine and the vernal breezes chased each
other. So looked the Vale of Aylesbury as John Bullfinch,
with his daughter and son, rode along it, on a bright May
morn, to Gosford races. It was an annual event, and one of
moment. John could never remember that there had been a
race meeting at Gosford at which he was not present. The
races, perhaps, might have been brought off' without him and
Sir Jerry Snaffle, but it may be doubted. The farmer rode
Black Hearty. On one hand May was upon Cowslip ; on the
other, Young Jack upon Young Cowslip. Nature was in a
merry mood. Up, up! the lark towered up, and sang as
though he would pour out his very life aloft in melody. They
heard the cuckoo on the hill, the golden-fluted blackbird in
the hedge, and deep in wood and grove swelled the many
varied carols and wild notes of the thrush. They lingered on
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 69
the way, John Bullfinch and his daugther May, content to enjoy
so fine a morning and so fair a scene. But this sort of thing
was far from suiting Young Jack. It was a race morn-
ing, the occasion was momentous, and he was fiery hot with
haste.
The little jockey boots, the white buckskin breeches, and
the jacket of violet silk under his loose coat indicated that
Young Jack would take a prominent part when the proceed-
ings on the heath began. He was, indeed, to ride a certain
thoroughbred pony called Maid of the Vale, in the Ladies'
Cup, two miles, for ponies not more than fourteen hands high.
Three times before he had ridden the little mare to victory,
but never in a race of so much interest and importance as the
one about to come ofi*. Her chief antagonist would be a
famous brown pony, with a bald face, a noted runner, brought
on from Whittlebury Forest. He was the joint property of a
gypsy and a dealer in bridles and whips, an immense fat man,
twice as big as his own horse. This pony. Creeping Joe, had
won many races, and had furnished occasion for frequent quar-
rels and one or two fights between the worthies who owned
him, the gypsy and the fat man. In the altercations the fat
man generally had the best of it, for he was exceedingly loud
and voluble ; but in the fights the strategy of the gypsy pre-
vailed. He lowered his head, and by butting his antagonist
in the pit of the stomach reduced him to mere helplessness.
This gypsy was a crony of Gypsy Jack's, through whose sug-
gestions Creeping Joe had been brought up to Gosford Heath
to run against Maid of the Vale for the Ladies' Cup.
" We shall be late. I know we shall be late, and Mr. Bird-
bolt will be waiting. Put Hearty to a canter, father, and let
May send Cowslip along a bit. I declare that many people
would go faster to a funeral than we are going to Gosford
Green on the race morning," said Young Jack.
" And I shouldn't blame 'em, if the funeral was that of some
boys," said his father. " You'll go fast enough before the day
is over, if you beat Creeping Joe, for he is a nailer. Between
the gypsies, the big fellow and Young Ike, they have got him
in rare condition, I am told."
" So much the more reason that I should be with the mare,
to see how she feels and have another consultation with Jim.
70 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
But, father, do you really think that Creeping Joe can outrun
the Maid ?"
*' I've no doubt of it, and you must depend on her bottom.
Now, the way to ride this race is to go along for a mile at
a "
" Ah ! I know all about that. I talked it over with Mr.
Kansome, from Lord Jersey's, at the Barleymow, and we came
to the conclusion to make the running strong. Now let us
make a little running here," said Jack.
"We'll just jog along as we are doing. I see Sir Jerry
Snaffle's chariot in front, and I won't pass him and her lady-
ship, if we never get there," said John.
" Then all I can say is, that I wish Sir Jerry Snaffle would
go a little faster,"" said Jack, with some discontent.
" Sir Jerry, sir," said John Bullfinch, " has a right to make
the pace as fast or as slow as he pleases. Why, when I was
a boy I should no more have thought of passing Sir Jerry's
father on the road, than I should have thought of flying.
But times have sadly changed — butcher boys spatter the mud
over gentlemen's carriages, and gypsies go spurring by the
best in the land."
This last observation was drawn out by the fact that the
young gypsy, Ike, who was to ride Creeping Joe, had just
turned out of a green lane in front, on his uncle's galloway,
and dashed by Sir Jerry's carriage, as if he was nobody.
Half an hour brought John Bullfinch to the front of a small
but elegant domain on Gosford Green. It was the residence
of Mr. Birdbolt, a short, stout old bachelor, hot in disposition
and hearty in manner, with white hair and a face as red as a
beefsteak. He was a great connoisseur in flowers, singing-
birds and racing ponies ; owned Maid of the Yale and often
declared that he wouldn't swap her for any sixteen-hand horse
in the Kingdom. He now rushed through the front garden,
and assisting May to alight, kissed her on the cheek. " Beau-
tiful, beautiful !" said the old man, holding her at arm's length.
" Yes, the month for singing-birds and flowers — the spring
flowers !" said May.
" Ay, you charming rogue, for bullfinches and roses. But
come in to lunch, and then I'll show you the nesting gold-
finches and canaries," said Mr. Birdbolt.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO K 71
" Never mind them to-day, sir," cried Young Jack ; " any-
day will do for them. This is the mare's day. What I want
to know is "
" Confound the boy ! What do you mean by interrupting
a gentleman at his own house ?" said his father. " If I was
Mr. Birdbolt, I think I'd make you strip those colors off, and
get another rider. Still," he continued, " I should like to look
at the mare myself before we lunch, for on a racing morning
the less we have to do with birds the better, unless it be car-
rier-pigeons, to instruct friends in London how to put the
money on."
" There are cold fowls and tongue already on the table,"
said Mr. Birdbolt.
" They won't fly away while we look at the mare. Come
along !" cried Young Jack.
They found the stable door locked, and the key in charge of
a short, bony man of fifty, who had once been a jockey, and
was now trainer to Mr. Birdbolt's ponies, in which weighty
affairs his chief counsellor and adviser had usually been Tom
Scarlet. The man was somewhat hoarse and at first so grave
and taciturn that you would have thought something ill had
certainly befallen the mare.
" All right, eh, Jim ?" said Mr, Bullfinch.
" Yes, yes ! she's tol'able well," replied the trainer.
" Good at her feed, and pulls up well after her gallops ?"
said John.
" Yes — yes ! she's eat what I gave her, and she's took her
work, but "
" But ! what d'ye^ mean by but ? You don't mean to say
that she's amiss in any way ?" cried Mr. Bullfinch.
" Why, no. Not exactly amiss, but she's had a good deal
easier races ; and if Tom Scarlet was here, just to look her
over and advise young master how to ride it, I should be
easier in my mind. However, you look her over yourself."
With this, he threw open the door of the box, and there
stood Maid of the Vale, with her muzzle on, ready for her
war paint. She was a pony, but with all the length and elegant
proportions of a thoroughbred horse of high quality. A rich
bay, long and low, with a glowing coat, full, meaning eye and
broad forehead — a mare well worthy of some of her ancestors,
72 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
who, stouter than the sailors and men-at-arms of Spain,
breasted the billows of the stormy Channel, and swam ashore
from the wrecks of the Armada. She answered May's ca-
resses, and looking round at the visitors, as if to collect their
sentiments, seemed to know that her time had come again —
that Young Jack was there to take her to another struggle.
" She's fit ! She's up to the mark. We shall win it, Jim —
I know we shall win it," said Young Jack.
" And I know we shan't, if you underrate your adversary,"
returned his father. " Of all the perilous and fatal errors
made in regard to racers, boxers, and the like, there is none
worse than underestimating those who are to oppose you. I've
seen it proved a hundred times. Look at Old Dutch Sam, the
winner of a hundred fights, and licked at last by a journey-
man baker ! Look at Jem Belcher, never beaten until he un-
derrated his own pupil, the Game Chicken !"
" Ay," said the trainer, " but I have always heard that Bel-
cher would have won the fight, only he had lost an eye a short
time before, playing at rackets, and Pierce got in on the blind
side of him. It's always been the belief in the racing stables
that Jem would have won if he had had two eyes."
" I know it," said Mr. Bullfinch, with a sigh, " but I have
heard competent judges say — I didn't see the fight myself —
that he couldn't have beaten Pierce on that day if he had had
four eyes. But he was a great man — a very great man was
Jem Belcher ! The best in my time, or any other time, for
that matter. There's no such men nowadays."
" Well, never mind him now," said Youug Jack ; " it's a race
and not a prize-fight that's going to come ofi'."
" In regard to the race," said Mr. Bullfinch, " much depends
upon the riding of it. You have had but a limited experi-
ence. Now, I could have got a boy from John Day's "
" I don't like them Days," said the trainer gruffly and posi-
tively. " They call old John * Honest John,' and, to my mind,
it is because he's the d — dest rascal in all England."
" Well, well, let it pass ! No boy from John Day's is here,
and Jack is to ride — my son is to ride. Now the mare, though
perhaps not as fast, is better bred than Creepiug Joe, and the
way to win is to come away and make running."
"From the start! right from the start," said Mr. Birdbolt.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 73
" And so diminish Creeping Joe's speed before it comes to
the finish," said May.
" Now, this is all wrong," said Jack, expostulating. « You
all talk as if you had made a grand discovery, when Tom
Scarlet and I and Jim have always known that the little mare's
strong point is her ability to stick over a long course. I don't
want instructions as to that matter. I've ridden her before
without instructions of that sort — eh, Jim ?"
"Ay, and against instructions, and won, too," said the
trainer, " for at Cotesford Mr. Bullfinch said, ' Wait and win,'
and the guvner said, ' Nail 'em on the post ' but Tom Scarlet
and you and I said, ' If we wait for them big horses they'll
outstride her at last, with all their weight ; so we'll just go
along and keep 'em moving all the w ay.' "
" That was it — precisely it !" said Young Jack, as his father
and Mr. Birdbolt began to retreat. " I cut out the running."
" And kept the pace good," cried May.
" And won in a walk," hallooed the trainer, whereat John
Bullfinch and Mr. Birdbolt quickened their pace towards the
house.
This matter at Cotesford had long been rather a sore sub-
ject to treat upon before John Bullfinch and Mr. Birdbolt,
and for that reason it was to the trainer, like a long suit at
whist — ^he never neglected an opportunity " to bring it in."
CHAPTER IX.
She was not foaled on the Northern wold,
But dropped in the lap of the midland vale;
And the gypsy there, with the coal-black hair.
And the eye well read in the fates, they said.
Told them next morn of the time, and tale.
TT could hardly be averred that John Bullfinch took as
-*- much interest in the plates and stakes run for at the rural
meetings near the Vale of Aylesbury as he did in the grand
event which came off" at Newmarket, Epsom and Doncaster,
but it is very likely that they afibrded him as much enjoy-
74 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
ment. In a certain sense he \vas of the upper circle, the inner
ring of a great section of the turf. He had for years been
intimate \vith Mr. Ransome, a sort of JNIaster of the Horse at
Middleton, the favorite seat of the great racing magnate of
that age, Lord Jersey. All Sir Jerry Snaffle's racing doings
and secrets were confided to John Bullfinch. With the Days
he had long been friendly. With Will and young Sam Chiff-
ney he was hand and glove. Isaac Sadler had great respect
for him, the more so, that John always had a balance at his
banker's, and Mr. Sadler sometimes had none. It was not
likely that one who had discussed with Kansome the merits
of Cobweb, Middleton, Mameluke, Glenartney and Glencoe,
with the Chifiheys the memorable triumphs of Zinganee and
Priam, and with Sadler the glorious doings of Defence and
Dangerous, should prefer hunters' plates and pony stakes to
the national events. John's hat had been thrown up too
often after the great turf victories of Lord Jersey, Sir Jerry,
the Chiflneys and Isaac Sadler for that. It was a truth, how-
ever, that after a race of heats at the country meetings, in
which the struggle had been long and close, John's satisfaction
was intense. The trainer, the jockey, and the owner of the
winner always received his congratulations in the order named.
In the great steeple-chases, for which the beautiful Vale of
Aylesbury was then famous — real cross-country contests, quite
unlike those over the artihcial courses of the present day —
John was in his glory. A bold and skilful rider and a fine
judge of that rare animal, the weight-carrying hunter, Mr.
Bullfinch felt himself on solid ground when steeple-chasing
was in order. Concerning the Derby, the St. Leger, the Ascot
Cup, and so forth, he was never very confident, but inclined
to listen to the suggestions of his friends Ransome, Edwards,
the Chiffueys, the Days, Robinson, Isaac Sadler, &c. None
of these great men attended the little meetings of Gosford
Green, save Ransome and Sadler. The latter commonly had
horses to run, and at such places they were generally coarse-
looking creatures, sometimes string-halted or knuckled behind,
almost always running in bandages, and quite always set down
by Ransome in his own mind as " dangerous." He might
know nothing at all about them, but his theory was, " Isaac
Sadler knows precisely what sort of a horse to bring here."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 75
As our party cantered along from Mr. Birdbolt's to the
heath, the scene was highly animating. Scores of farmers on
horseback, and their wives and daughters in gigs and carriages,
were on the road. Now and then a barouche, bearing from
the country mansions fair dames and damsels, bright with rich
colors, and with ribbons gay, went rolling by. On either hand
there was a continuous crowd of country folks a-foot. Sturdy
men in smock frocks and leather gaiters ; young fellows in
velveteen coats, upon whom the recruiting sergeant cast a
longing eye. Lads and lasses, ruddy and dusty ; troops of
children with May garlands in their nut-brown hands, and no
fear whatever of the beadle before their eyes. It was always
a general holiday. On the heath, scattered over the open
sward among the gorse, and as near to the course as might be,
were booths, from which the clamor of voices, the scraping of
fiddles, and the sound of tabor and pipe, were already audi-
ble. The thimble-rig, and other games of skill and chance,
were going on, in nooks and corners, among the bushes. About
the vehicles, drawn up on each side of the roped run-in, there
was Punch and Judy ; and the hoarse bawling of ballad-singers
was almost loud enough to drown the voices of the gypsy girls,
crying, " The correct card of the races, with all the running
horses, and the weights, names, and colors of the riders !"
John Bullfinch and Mr. Birdbolt were recognised on every
hand. The latter was now as hot and earnest as Young Jack
himself May was the cynosure of many eyes, as she sat on
Cowslip with admirable ease and grace, bowing right and left to
the compliments showered upon her. Soon she became aware
of the near presence of Gypsy Jack, who, with a companion,
was intently regarding her from a short distance. The gypsy's
companion was a man of thirty, much scarred from small-
pox, sinewy and long-armed, dressed as a sailor. It seemed as
though they had something to tell May or her father, for after
exchanging some words together, the sailor nodded to the
gypsy, and the latter made three or four steps towards her.
But just then Sir Jerry Snaffle rode up on a gray gelding, and
paid such a compliment to May that she blushed and looked
down. When she raised her head again, the gypsy and the
sailor were gone. Sir Jerry, a tall, florid man, with reddish-
brown whiskers, bushy as the brush of a fox, was one of the
76 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
stewards — iu fact, the leading man of the meeting. After a few
words with John Bullfinch, he mentioned Lady Snaffle's wish
that her goddaughter, May, should join her in the carriage.
Dismounting and throwing his reins to a groom, the baronet
assisted her to alight and conducted her to his wife's chariot.
Lady Snaffle was a little stout, fresh and fair, with a merry
eye, a rich, joyous voice, and a kind heart. She was the only
daughter of a fine old Admiral, who had fought at the Nile
and Trafalgar and scores of other places. He had come inland
at last, bringing with him the rustle of reefing breezes and the
rich flavor of the combing seas of the main ocean. Lady Snaffle
had no children. During the lifetime of John Bullfinch's wife,
a quiet, ladylike, superior woman, she had often called at
Hawkwell, and thus it was that she was godmother to May.
After the death of Mrs. Bullfinch, when John took his chil-
dren to the Hall and presented the little girl, in her deep
mourning, to Lady Snaffle, the lady clasped her to her heart
and vowed that she would be a second mother to her. This
was a source of great relief to Sir Jerry, who hated sadness
and sorrow, and whose well-meant endeavors to console the
widower had, somehow or another, failed. His exhortations
to John to " cheer up" had been wholly unavailing. Seeing
the little girl in his wife's arms, the good-hearted baronet took
charge of the little boy and carried him and John off to the
stables. Ever since that time May had spent a day now and
then with Lady Snaffle, and Young Jack had come to have
the run of the gardens and paddocks. The families had more
in common than people in the towns would at first compre-
hend, for the Bullfinches were as old in the county as the
Snaffles, and had marched to battle in the wars of the Roses,
side by side with the chiefs of that ancient house. Besides,
whenever the Admiral was at the Hall he frequently called at
Hawkwell and chatted with John and his daughter. After
his visits he would say to his daughter, " Good man, John
Bullfinch, Laura ! Like the cut of his jib. Politics right —
true blue ! Knows the ropes about horse-racing and farming.
Very handsome girl, May Bullfinch — beautiful ! and so well-
behaved ! Reminds me of the landlady's daughter at Port
Royal when I was a midshipman in the Sea Horse frigate.
Does, by Jove ! She used to wait upon us middies and mix
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 77
our grog. You should have heard her sing ' All in the downs.'
Smart boy, that Young Jack — ought to go to sea. Topman,
by George, by the time he's twenty ; might be captain of the
foretop at five-and-tweuty. Or we might get him appointed
midshipman, only our party is not in, and there's an over-
supply of them."
" He is heir to Hawkwell, papa, the estate of the Bullfinches
— very old family."
" What signifies a few acres of muddy land, Laura, when
the lad can own, as you may say, millions of acres of dark-
blue water?"
Even Tom Scarlet was looked upon by Lady Snafile with a
certain sort of favor, through the Admiral. On one occasion
the old sailor was at the Hall when the anniversary of the
battle of Trafalgar came round. Soon after break of day,
" two bells in the morning watch," the Admiral rose and found
the whole front of the mansion bedecked with laurel boughs ;
he roused out his daughter and Sir Jerry, and then the crowd
upon the lawn gave three cheers and began the stanza which
is, for simplicity and pathos, almost sublime :
"By Britons long expected great news from the fleet,
Commanded by Lord Nelson the French for to meet —
At length the news came over, through all England it soon spread,
That the French were defeated, but Nelson was dead."
Tom Scarlet had been the prime mover in all this, and Lady
Snafile appreciated the pains he had taken to celebrate the
fame of her veteran father.
May had not long been seated by the lady's side when she
noticed the sailor looking hard at them.
"A blue-jacket. May, but not a man-of-war's-man, my dear;
he seems determined to know us again. What can the man
be staring at us for?"
" Perhaps he is not a sailor," said May.
"O, yes, he is. I can tell at a glance the real tar from the
impostors who put on sailors' clothes to beg in. This man is
a sailor, but not one of our men — a man-of-war's-man."
Just then the bell rang to clear the course for the first race.
There was galloping up and down, smacking of hunting-whips,
and pressing back of the foot-people behind the cords. Louder
was the hubbub. Shriller the gypsy girls cried the " correct
78 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
cards," as they pushed back their tangled locks and curtsied
to the " gentlemen and sportsmen," who paid in shillings and
half crowns, and got smiles and chaff for change.
Now the course and the horses riveted all attention. The
ballad-singers bawled no more. Punch shrieked in vain.
Pipe and tabor and catgut were silent. Tramp, tramp ! swish,
swish ! six or seven horses go flashing by. Isaac Sadler's
chestnut wins the plate for all ages, and Young Jack goes off
to the quarters of Maid of the Vale, under a <jlump of elm
trees a few rods from the course.
On his way the lad was accosted by Parkins.
*' Master Bullfiuch, what game, what gammon do you think
the gypsies be up to now ?"
" I don't know — I'm in a hurry. Is it something about
Creeping Joe ?"
" You've just hit it ; he's to win easy, and Young Ike is to
be made a great jockey. The fat man says he'll be one of the
top-saw^yers at Newmarket !"
" Do you believe that nonsense. Parkins ?"
" Do I believe it ? Master Jack, I hates the gypsies, espe-
cially the family of Gypsy Jack. They be bad 'uns, all bad
'uns."
" Well, no," said Jack. " Miriam Cotswold is a good girl
and a merry one."
" What ! A good girl ! Lord, how you be gammoned !
Listen to me "
" Another time," said Jack ; " no time now. The saddling-
bell has rung."
Creeping Joe \vas first on the course, led by the gypsy
owner, and followed by the fat man, Jack Cotswold, his nephew
Ike, and some scores of the dark and sinister-looking men of
the tribes. Then came Maid of the Vale ; and she soon be-
came the centre of a circle of rustic admirers. The old trainer
held her by the head, Ransome buckled the girths, and Young
Jack was as busy about her as a bee in clover. A tall groom
in livery came up and said :
" I want Master Bullfinch ! Where's Master Bullfiuch ?"
" Now, where do you think Master Bullfinch is likely to be
at this minute, and the mare ready for her mount ?" said
Young Jack.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 79
" Lady Snaffle wishes to see you for a moment, sir. The
carriage is close at hand."
"I know. You tell her ladyship I can't come now, but
after the race "
" What ! you send such a message as that to Lady Snaffle ?"
cried his father. " Off with that jacket ! There's a boy here
from Will Chiffney's just the weight. No boy that fails in
proper respect for Lady Snaffle shall ride this mare."
" Go to her ladyship," said Mr. Ransome, " and keep cool ;
there's plenty of time. The fact is that her ladyship ought
to know better when there's a race in hand ; but ladies nevej
do know better. Go on. Jack."
*'I'm going," said he, with tears in his eyes; «'but if this
race is lost it won't be my fault."
Hurrying along, whip in hand, natty and spruce in breeches,
boots, and purple silk. Jack passed by the carriages, and heard
with some satisfaction such remarks as " There's Young Bull-
finch. He rides Maid of the Vale. I hope he'll win." In
one carriage there was a matron with three daughters, all fair
and rosy, and beautifully dressed — ^Irs. Southdo\vn, her two
eldest daughters, and Margery, a young miss just in her teens.
Mrs. Southdown and the young ladies bowed and smiled.
Margery jumped up and cried, " Jack ! I say. Jack !"
*' Ma ! Ma ! the idea ! Shocking !" said the young ladies.
*'Well, my dears, it may be improper in a sort of way.
But children will be children ; and your father has done his
best to spoil Margery and Young Jack ever since thej were
babies."
The Baronet's lady received Jack very graciously, alid all
his discontent vanished. Lady Snaffle gave him the tips of
her fingers, saying, " How d'ye do. Master Bullfinch ? Pleased
to see you in the Maid's colors again. How is the dainty little
mare ?"
" She's well, my lady ; very well and fit," said Jack.
" They say the bald-faced pony is a wonder. Master Bull-
finch. What do you think of the race ?"
" He's fast, ray lady, but the mare's the real sticker. She's
better bred. You know her pedigree ?"
" Well, yes, but really at this moment I do not recall it."
" Got by Master Henry out of Miss Stays, by Whalebone ;
80 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
Master Henry by Orville. Lord Jersey and Mr. Elwes bred
him. The mare will win. Has your ladyship got anything
of value on ?" said Jack, with solemnity.
" Got anything of value on ! May, my dear, am I expen-
sively dressed to-day ?" said the lady, laughing.
" I don't mean that, my lady. I mean any money on the
mare. Because if not, put a little on."
" But I don't know who to put it on with. Everybody in
this part of the course is for the Maid."
" So much the better for them, my lady. Bet with Sir
Jerry ; he'll stand it. Somebody has gammoned him into the
belief that Creeping Joe can't lose it."
" A good idea, I declare ! Here comes Sir Jerry, and I'll
adopt it. May, it will be a rich joke, and I shall win twenty
guineas."
The Baronet rode up, and gave his opinion of the race.
Creeping Joe was probably the fastest horse of his inches in
the Kingdom since Little Driver's time. The mare was a good
one, but might not be quite up to the mark. He would have
been more confident if Tom Scarlet had been there to train
her. And then the Baronet added, "A very clever young
man. Miss May."
May blushed and looked a little confused, while Lady Snaf-
fle said, " I believe the mare will win. Master Bullfinch is
very confident."
" Boys always are," replied Sir Jerry. " He'd be confident
if he had no more chance than a man a-foot."
" Sir Jerry, I will back our county, and lay you twenty to
forty," said her ladyship.
"Not taken. Say twenty even, and it's a bet."
" I'll do it," said Lady Snafile.
The start was at the head of the straight run-in, half a mile
from the judges' stand. From the latter the course turned in
a half circle for a mile among the gorse, and then there was
the straight run-in again. As the ponies came along towards
the carriages and went sweeping by, it was seen that Maid of
the Vale, going with a long, measured stroke and her head low,
was leading two lengths. Creeping Joe, higher and more
rapid in action, was second, and two others who had started
were already outpaced. Away they went, between the bushes
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 81
and clumps of green gorse, nothing of them to be seen but
the caps of the riders. A mile had been run, and still the lit-
tle mare forced the pace. A mile and a half, and still she
was leading two lengths as they entered the straight. Now
the excitement began to rise.
" She'll win ! I know she will ! May, my dear, the mare is
winning !" cried Lady Snaffle.
" I do think so !" said May, in a flutter of hope.
" The boy rides well, and she sticks hard ; but the great
pinch is yet to come," said Sir Jerry, galloping away.
They were three parts of the straight run home, when the
gypsy called upon his pony for a great rush, and there was a
loud shout as the bald face of Creeping Joe was seen a little
in front of the mare. The ladies trembled with excitement,
and some shook with fear. But that shout was nothing to the
swell of the prolonged roar which shook the bushes when Maid
of the Vale came again, and won the race by a length. Then
laughing, smiles, bright flashes, shaking of hands, and a rush
around the weighing booth, as Young Jack and Ike, with their
saddles on their arms, came out. The mare was the great local
favorite.
" Sir Jerry, the race is mine by rights. He rode foul. He
did indeed ! My uncle can prove it," cried Ike.
" Sir Jerry, it's a lie !" said Young Jack. " Ask my father
— ask Mr. Ransome — ask Isaac Saddler — ask Lady Snaffle !
O, Sir Jerry, do ask Lady Snaffle !"
" Ike, there's half a guinea for you. The race was well
ridden and fairly won. It was not your fault that you lost it."
The Baronet then took Young Jack by the arm and said,
" My boy, you're a credit to your father, and he's as good a
man as ever put foot in stirrup. You ride extraordinarily weJl."
" So I ought. Sir Jerry ; it was Tom Scarlet taught me,"
said Young Jack, full of pride and joy. " Ride foul, indeed !
I'd scorn it. Sir Jerry, especially against him, Ike."
" Ah, I understand — clever fellow, Tom Scarlet. Come
along, come along ! You must receive the congratulations of
your sister and Lady Snaffle, and I'll bring your father and
Mr. Birdbolt there."
As they went through the crowd to the carriage. Young
Jack's silken sleeve brushed the bluejacket of the- wiry sailor.
6
82 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK.
He stood talking with Gypsy Jack. They were looking at
May Bullfinch again, all unconscious of the astute Parkins,
who watched them and muttered, " I ain't to be gammoned.
You chaps can't gammon me !" He took good care, however,
to keep behind the sailor, who showed such a rough and reso-
lute countenance, as he smoked his cheroot, that Parkins said,
" A bad 'uu ! A very bad 'un !"
After the sports of the day were over there was more noise,
more merriment, and more bustle. The brown, bare-legged
gypsy boys and girls ran shouting here and there. Tall racers
in their clothes, led by little grooms, trod stately by. Eed-
faced farmers, with their buxom wives and daughters, pressed
forward in the throng, and hallooed, " By your leave ! by your
leave, there !" In the booths faster went the fiddles, more
merrily sounded the tabor and pipe. Punch chuckled more
richly as he cudgelled the beadle and hung Jack Ketch.
There w^as the thundering of the drum, "and the vile squeal-
ing of the wry-necked fife." And loud bawled the ballad-
singers. Lady Snafile threw sixpences among the gypsy boys
and girls, clapped her hands, and laughed. Young Jack and
Mr. Birdbolt had gone away with the trainer and the victori-
ous little mare. Sir Jerry Snaffle's horse. Black Hearty, and
Cowslip w^ere held in readiness by grooms near the chariot ;
but the Baronet and the yeoman just then were elbowing their
way into the thick of a vast crowd, where a fight was going
on, in which Gypsy Jack and the sailor acted as seconds to
one of the brawny principals.
It was the twilight of the long summer day before John
Bullfinch, with May and his son, sat at the board of Mr.
Birdbolt. They had a pleasant and a jocund time. The
piping bullfinch sat on May's finger and whistled " Coming
thro' the Rye," with such art and emphasis that he was
encored. The trainer was had in with his lads to join in
drinking to r»Iaid of the Vale. Young Jack, for the tenth
time, went over all the incidents of the race, and declared
that he knew he had it safe when Ike challenged a furlong
from the post, instead of waiting till close at home. John
Bullfinch was in high glee. Sir Jerry had passed warm en-
comiums upon Young Jack to his father, and the latter now
exclaimed, " No more boarding school, Jack ! No more, May I
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 83
Sir Jerry says he don't need it ; he is in the right way of edu-
cation — the school for men."
Then John declaimed at length upon the glories and uses of
the turf; the principles of breeding; the art and the science
of training ; and the mysteries of jockeyship. Many anec-
dotes he related, and much information he communicated, con-
cerning the Darley Arab, the Godolphin Arab, Bloody But-
tocks, the Byerly Tuck, the two True Blues, Flying Childers,
King Herod, Eclipse, Pot-8-os, Waxy, Whalebone, and Web ;
and finally wound up with an eulogium upon Tom Searlet and
Cowslip.
Mr. Bullfinch had just concluded when it was announced
that Gypsy Jack was at the door and wanted to see him on
business.
" If his business is to claim the Cup, it won't do, you know,"
said Young Jack. " I rode fair, and the mare won. Sir Jerry
and the other stewards have settled it, and the matter can't be
re-opened."
" Hold your tongue !" said his father. " Mr. Birdbolt, shall
we have Jack in and treat him ?"
" By all means," replied Mr. Birdbolt.
The gypsy looked as if he had been in a hot encounter, and
had washed at a horse-trough. His black hair was matted,
there was blood upon his shirt, and a cut over his eyebrow.
He came forward with his usual self-assurance, looked at each
of the company in turn, gave a sort of patronizing nod to
Young Jack, and in compliance with the invitation of Mr.
Birdbolt tossed off a steaming bumper of gin-and-water with
much relish.
" That's the right stuff!" said he. " Gentlemen, I made so
bold as to call, being bound up the country instead of down
the vale, and having business which may prove of interest to
all concerned."
With this lie set down the glass and looked steadily at May.
" Well, what is the business ? Is it about the race, Jack ?"
said Mr. Bullfinch.
" No, sir, it ain't. The race is over ; I've paid my bets, and
that's enough. The mare," he continued, with a glance at
another tumbler of gin-and-water which Mr. Birdbolt was
mixing, " is a d — d sight better than I took her for, and your
84 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
son rode like a captain, lie did ; like a professor of the jockey
art, which is a'most as noble as that followed in the twenty-
four-foot ring. The owners of Creeping Joe have quarrelled
and fought. Luke licked the big fellow by butting — which I
don't count quite fair, though within the rules — and has took
the pony all to himself. But that ain't the thing. My business
here is to deliver a letter — I may say two — from foreign parts."
" A letter from foreign parts ! Why it must be from Tom
Scarlet," said Mr. Bullfinch.
" I shouldn't wonder," said the gypsy, with a grin, " seeing
they was brought over from America — there's one for Miss
May, too — by a sailor cove, a friend of mine that was in the
clipper brig Tom Scarlet took passage to Baltimore in."
" Is the sailor outside ? If he is, let him come forward and
splice the mainbrace," said Mr. Birdbolt.
" Well, he's outside, but not here ; that is, outside of the
lock-up," said the gypsy. " You see, there was a little mill,
and after that a jolly row all round. Parkins, being cheeky
and officious, had his head punched by this sailor, and went
off to get a warrant out. So the sailor, not wanting to be
jugged, has cut and run into another county."
" I saw the man," said Mr. Bullfinch. " Were not you and
he seconding one of the men in the ring?"
"O, ay! he belongs to the profession, as you may say,"
returned the gypsy. " You used to know him well some years
ago, when he was a clever lad and a lightweight — fought by
the name of Harry Cox."
" The Oxford Sailor Boy \ And he went over in the same
ship with Tom Scarlet, eh ?" said Mr. Bullfinch.
"That a did," returned the gypsy, "and introduced him
there to one of the right sort ; a man from tlie West, some-
where or another, away up the country among the mountains
and prairies. A good horseman ! a knowing cove ! a racing
cove 1 and one as can fight above a bit ! He got Cox out of
trouble with the beaks in New Orleans once, when they
brought off a little battle for a thousand dollars a side, and
the other man happened to die. Tom's all right."
" Take another glass. Jack, while I read this letter," said
Mr. Bullfinch.
The gypsy readily complied. After a long look at May he
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 85
addressed some observations to Mr. Birdbolt and Young Jack,
touching America, the vast quantities of unappropriated land
there, the absence of game laws, and the cheapness of rum :
"Tuppence a glass and help yourself! My eyes! what a
country !"
The letter to Mr. Bullfinch vras brief, and being very legible,
which is more than could be said of many letters in those days,
was soon read. It seemed to be satisfactory, for John laid it
on the table before him, and surveyed the company. " It is,"
said he, " a letter from America, written by Tom Scarlet, sure
enough, and is just as much to the point, and goes as straight
to the purpose, as if it had been written at his own desk at the
Grange. The voyage seems to have made no more difference
to him than a journey to Aylesbury, Banbury or Oxford
would to me."
" Very likely not as much, if it was winter time, and a white
horse happened "
" Hold your tongue !" said Mr. Bullfinch, peremptorily, to
the gypsy, pointing to a third glass of gin-and-water. He
then resumed : " Tom is quite well. He is gone to the West.
I don't precisely know what the West means."
" It is like our going to the west of England," said Young
Jack.
" I dare say it is. Tom means to make an extensive tour
in company with a man of those parts with whom he has be-
come friends — a very good man, a capital horseman !"
" Meaning for America, of course," said Young Jack.
" Hold your tongue, sir ! A good horseman to Tom Scarlet
is good anywhere. During his absence he requests me to look
after some, matters at the Grange."
" Sensible notion, that there," said the gypsy.
" And," continued Mr. Bullfinch, raising his voice, " to tell
Sir Jerry he»need not be afraid to match The Bagman across
country, for Tom himself will be home to ride him."
" That's very good !" said Young Jack. " I wish he had
seen the race to-day. Father, I should like to ride over to
the Hall with you when you go to tell Sir Jerry. I caused
him to lose twenty guineas to-day, and if I can help to put
him on a good thing, by letting him know the real, 2wivate
opinion of Tom Scarlet as to The Bagman, it "
86 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK.
Mr. Bullfinch had been so struck aback by this statement
from his son, that up to the point of the private opinion about
The Bagman he had been unable to interpose. He now cried,
''What d'ye say? Did I hear aright? Were you the cause of
Sir Jerry's losing money ? AVent halves Avith the chap who
won it, I suppose. You are a nice one for my son !"
" Went halves — no ! I am only to have a new saddle and
bridle. Her ladyship told me that since the race. She laid
the bet with Sir Jerry through my advice."
" O !" said John, opening his eyes very wide, while a smile
ran over his face, like the ripple of the sunshine across a
meadow in the spring, when light chases shadow, and is in
turn chased itself " If her ladyship won the money, it alters
the case. I like to see the ladies bet, especially when they
put it on the right horse."
May came forward from the window with a bright, liquid
eye and a flushed cheek. She said :
" Tom— Mr. Scarlet, I mean "
" Always called Tom," put in the gypsy.
« Mr. Scarlet writes very kindly. He wishes to be remem-
bered by all his friends. Sends his love to Jack ; and men-
tioning having written to you, father, says, tell him that as
yet I have heard nothing certain of the White Horse !"
John Bullfinch winced and cleared his throat.
" Heard nothing of the White Horse !" said IMr. Birdbolt.
" Heard nothing of the AVhite Horse ! He must be gone
over about the White Horse," exclaimed Young Jack.
The gypsy fixed the yeoman with his piercing eye, and said,
with great emphasis and deliberation :
" ' Tell him that as yet I have heard nothing certain of the
White Horse!' Now, this is curious! If this here White
Horse was only a goblin horse, a sort of Will-o'-the-Wisp,
leading people astray, I could have him charmed and laid by
some of our folks. But Tom couldn't have been led off* by that
sort of thing, and we shall hear more of the White Horse." ^
" I hope I shall hear that he's ringboned and spavined," said
John Bullfinch, with some acerbity.
" Then I don't," said the gypsy, " for though Tom has heard
nothing certain of him yet, he icill hear of him, and if the
AVhite Horse is sound, I'll bet a trifle he never comes back
without him."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 87
CHAPTER X.
" She was so loved, the fairy !
Like a mistress or a child,
For she was so trim and airy,
So buoyant and so wild.
Although so young a rover,
She knew what life might be,
For she had wandered over
Full many a distant sea."
A CLIPPER brig lay, iu the moonlight, a little out in the
stream at Baltimore, and two men stood upon the wharf
abreast of her. The brig was low in the ^Yater, broad in the
beam, and very heavily sparred. It seemed tliat she had lately
met with heavy w^eather, for part of her bulwarks had been
washed away and her decks had a bare look, which indicated that
they had been swept by green seas within a few days. Yet the
spars and standing rigging were all right, and there was no
want of trimness in the coiling of the falls of the running
rigging upon the belaying pins and elects. The fact was that
the swift clipper, after wrestling with the ocean in its fierce
and angry moods for three weeks, had at last reached her port,
with all on board well and no damage done save to the paint
and upper works, and two or three sails blown out of the bolt
ropes. She was a favorite with her officers and her gallant
crew, though a very wet vessel, and one that from the height
of her masts, the reach of her yards, and the great length of
her main boom kept the watch on the alert, and in heavy
weather required all hands and the cook to reduce her canvas.
She had never made a more marked impression upon the
nautical mind by reason of her swift, staunch, and w'eatherly
qualities than upon the passage just concluded.
" A good brig she is ; and by the powers, the skipper and
mate know how to drive her. The passage was fast and good.
We are here ahead of Jagger ever so much. The brig lay her
course, you know, all the way "
" To tell you the truth, Cox, I know very little about it.
88 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
Whether it's a week or a fortnight or a month since I came
on board, I hardly know."
" Ay, ay ! 'twas a rough passage from first to last, for we
got it in the channel, and the last gale off this coast was a
heavy one. Danger must be a pretty good sea-horse by this
time, for he was under water much of the way. I fed him
myself all the passage, and he ate well, which is more than you
did. He's a very knowing horse. When he smelt the land
he almost talked, and the way he struck out for the shore when
we shoved him overboard was beautiful. The fact is, that the
Roanoke in a breeze of wind is a lively craft. She ducks down
a little often, and points her flying jibboom up at the stars once
in awhile. But what then ? She is safe and swift. She lay
her course all the way, which is a d — d sight more than the
liners and regular traders could have done. Whichever
dagger may be in, he isn't this side of the Grand Banks yet."
"Now I've had time to reflect," said Tom Scarlet, "I must
say that it was imprudent in me to come off at red heat. You
see, while I lay below, and the brig was tossing between sea
and sky, buffeted about, as it seemed to me, by all the winds
and waves in the world, I had nothing to do but consider."
" I know. That's all over now. Another twenty-four hours
on land and you'll consider again. I have pondered over this
matter in the watches — at the wheel, mind you, and on the
look-out, and I've got it made up by day's reckoning. Now,
there's one thing sure, dagger won't go to New York, be-
cause there are men there who know him, and he would sooner
see the d — 1 himself than meet them face to face. They had
transactions together in England, and when these men were
obliged to cut and run he cheated them. Boston's very un-
likely. Canada he is sure to avoid. He may go to Mobile,
or to New Orleans. Meantime, you are in as good a place as
any to hear of him. Kelly here, up at the house, has ac-
quaintances all along this coast. But, better than that, he
tells me the Western man I told you of is in Baltimore. Of
all the millions in America he's the man to show you the ropes
and help you to overhaul dagger."
" But why should he take trouble and interest himself in
me, a complete stranger ?"
" Because he's that kind of man. He will carry you off to
TEE WHITE EOBSE OF WOOTTON. 89
his plantation, and once he gets upon Jagger's track he'll hunt
him to the Rocky Mountains or to Texas, but ^vhat he'll have
him and recover your horse. Come, we'll go up and see if he
is there yet. Kelly expects him by this time."
They walked a block or two into the city and entered a long
room, from which flashed forth ruddy light, with the sound of
music, and vigorous feet tripping in the dance. Some dozen
men were lounging and smoking, most of them sailors. Some
were dancing to airs from two fiddles, a fife, and a harj). At
the farther end of the room there was a bar, behind which
stood the proprietor of the place, a stout fellow of five-and-
thirty, with his shirt-sleeves rolled up. To his right, in a lit-
tle recess, there were two men over a stove, with pipes in their
mouths. One of these was an old sailor, w^eather-beaten,
gnarled and knotted. His hair was grizzled, and his face was
as red and hard as salt junk which has been a time or two
around the world. The other man was rather tall, very brown,
very sinewy, and very quick in his movoments. His hair was
black, his eye a dark hazel, bold and bright. He had neither
beard nor whiskers. His dress was neat, not expensive, but
decent, like that of a countryman, and any one could see by
his cap of rich fur and his spurs that he was not a Baltimore
man.
" And so you say, old man, that you know of millions of
money wdiich may be come at for a trifle of outlay ?"
" Ay, he does ! that is, says so," said Kelly ; " but does it
stand to reason that they'd be there long and him without
enough to pay for his grog and tobacco ?"
" Young man, I do know of it, and w hat's more, nobody
else does ; so it's all my own. If you was a sailor man, we'd
go halves. There's nothing but an outfit wanted ; and if
Kelly here don't plank down something towards it, none of
the money '11 be spent in this place ; that I'm settled upon —
not a doubloon, not a joe, shall he have. Now, what is wanted
is a fore-and-aft schooner and six men, a puncheon of rum, a
hogshead of bread, and some beef and pork."
". I say, you can furnish them last," said the landlord.
" Well, I have beef cattle^ (but they are on the hoof) and a
drove of live hogs. Old man, whereabouts is this treasure?"
" Well, ijomig man, did you ever hear of the Grand Cayman ?"
90 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
" Did I hear of it ? Why, I have been there, and, more
fool I, after such a treasure as you tell about. We found the
inside of a Spanish calaboose instead of the money. But I
hear Cox's voice, Kelly, and I suppose that's the Englishman
with him. He looks like a lost man."
" That's him. They came ashore last night from a clipper
brig, one as has had a hard but fast passage — a diver, you
know — one of them as only comes up now and then to blow.
The Englishman has brought a horse with him — such a horse !
They swam him ashore. He'd suit you to death, only you
couldn't ride him."
" I can ride anything that has a mane," said the Western
man, positively.
" No, I'll swear you can't !' replied the ancient mariner ;
" for to say nothing of the lions, the sea-serpent we made out
off the Mauritius had a mane three fathoms long. It's true
as I'm alive — as true as the treasure down there by the
Grand Cayman. 'Twas in the morning watch — larboard watch
— I was at the wheel, and I says to the mate "
"Hullo ! what's the row now ?" cried Kelly.
The music had ceased — oaths, the breaking of glass, and
the interchange of blows were heard, and a man or two fell to
the floor. Those who had interrupted the dance then went
hastily into the street, and the musicians, after a time, prepared
to play again. But suddenly the door was flung open, and a
party of men, armed with slung-shots and clubs, rushed into
the room. Their leader was a huge fellow, with a powerful
club. He struck down Tom Scarlet, and another was bend-
ing over him with a slung-shot about to strike a blow which
might have brained him, when the Western man and Kelly
sprang forward together. A kick upon the jaw of the man
with the sluug-shot drove him in among the fiddlers, and then
the frontier man faced the intruders. Cox and several sailors
had been stricken down at the first onset, as well as Tom Scar-
let. The whole party were about to close with, the Western
man. But he did not wait for them. Ketracting his left hand
into the sleeve of his coat, so as to fend oft' with that arm, he
drew a knife from some part of his person, and with a fierce
cry, sprang at the gigantic leader. Twice the clubs came
down upon his head. Twice his knife flashed, and the glitter
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 91
of the blade made some of his assailants draw off. But at
last tile large man struck, two-handed, with force enough to
fell an ox, and down went the countryman. His opponent
uttered a shout of triumph, and hove up his club to finish the
work, but then came his own swift destruction. The frontier
man rose quickly upon his left knee and right foot, and with
an upward, backhanded stroke at the giant, " yerked him un-
der the fifth rib." With a yell of fear and pain the man
dropped his club and rushed out of the place, followed by his
companions. Kelly sprang to the door and threw two stout
oaken bars across it. He had no sooner done so than there
were shouts outside of "Help! murder! watch !" and knocking
at the door.
" I say. Sassafras, you've killed that fellow," said the land-
lord.
" He would have killed me, if he could. Look at this club,
with lead run into the head of it. If the man who made that
ain't a murderer at heart the Mississippi don't run towards
the Gulf Wlioishe?"
" A fireman and a politician — that is, his friends have got
political influence. You must clear out at once, and take the
Englishman with you. It won't suit you to lay in jail."
" No ; but I doubt whether the Englishman could 'cut his
way through the gang at the door if I could mine."
" I'll manage it all. Come here. Billy, get up."
A young boy arose from a berth near the bar, and the land-
lord said :
" Go to your uncle's ; tell him to have the Englishman's
horse saddled and bridled and in the alley in no time. Then
go to Carrol's and take Sassafras's horse there. Wait till they
come to you."
He then put the boy out through a little window at the
back.
" Now, Cox," said the landlord, " you three must go out over
the roof, cross the alley, and down off the tobacco warehouse.
You have been out that way before."
" I have ; but there was a plank and fifteen fathom of rope."
" They are there now. You'll find Mike in the attic to
bring them back again. Sassafras, you'll be pursued — no time
to lose. Never mind money. This'll soon blow over, and you
92 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
can settle when you come East again. Take that Englishman
home with you, and keep him out of harm's way until he has
got the hang of the country."
In less than half an hour Sassafras and Tom Scarlet
mounted their horses behind the stable of Kelly's brother in
the presence of Cox, a man from Carrol's, and the boy Billy.
" You'd better come with us. Cox. I can get another horse
at Pierce's, outside the city. Fine, free air t'other side of the
mountains, and I'll show you sport."
*' The breezes from the blue water are healthier for me," re-
plied the sailor. " I could lay in this town all snug for six
months. But there's no call for it. In the stream, waiting for
the turn of the tide to trip her anchor, there's a vessel bound
to New Orleans. I know the mate and I mean to sail in her.
Direct letters to me at the old place and I'll take 'em to Eng-
land."
" You won't go with us, then ?"
" No ; it's not to be thought of."
" I sav, Sassafras, I'll go. I want to go to the West," said
Billy.
" Good boy ! So you shall when I come East again. Good-
night, boys."
CHAPTER XI.
Dofjherry. — Tou shall comprehend all vagrom men ; you are to bid any man
stand in the Prince's name.
Wdtchmnu. — How if a' will not stand?
Bof/hen-y. — "Why, then, take no note of him, but let him go ; and presently
call the rest of the watch together, and thank God you are rid of a knave.
SILENTLY and slowly through the city, keeping to narrow
and unfrequented streets. Sassafras and Tom Scarlet rode
together. Presently the former explained in brief terms that
when they reached the road they could make speed, and with
such horses as they rode could easily keep ahead of all pur-
suers. Arrived at the straggling suburbs, Sassafras leaped
his horse over a low fence and led the way across an open
space of ground to a good road leading towards the West,
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 93
through au undulating country. Another leap took them
into the road, when Sassafras assured his companion they
might now consider themselves safe. They would ride briskly
for about five miles, when he would call upon a friend of his
for a few minutes, after which they would push on farther.
He should consider himself bound to be a friend to Tom ; he
would carry him first to his plantation, to get the whistle of
the winds and the roar of the waves out of his ears, and then
aid him to pursue Jagger and recover his White Horse. Time
enough for talk afterwards, he added ; they would canter along
now and get a piece away from those who might follow.
" Do you think the man is dead?" said Tom Scarlet.
"He may be, but he had thick clothes on, and the life lies
low in some of these heavy, burly fellows. Besides, I felt the
knife cut through a rib or two, and I doubt whether it went
far home. But you would have been dead enough by this
time if I had not struck in. I have heard something of your
history from Cox. Reckon me your friend. I will take
chances but what I'll see you righted ; the more so, because at
this, our first acquaintance, we were in a little difficulty
together. Nothing like being on the same side in a little
fight to make friends of men upon short acquaintance."
Tom Scarlet expressed his gratitude in suitable teruis, and
declared that he resigned himself to the guidance of Sassafras.
The young men shook hands, and put their horses to an easy
hand-gallop.
Sassafras was a Virginian ; but his home was now so far
towards the West, that it may be doubted whether his new-
found friend would have consented to accompany him, if he
had known that the plantation to which they were bound was
some twelve hundred miles away, and west of the great river
which, running a course as far from north to south, is called
the Father of the Waters. Sassafras was the youngest of a
family of three children, the eldest of whom was a girl. He
lost his mother young, but not before the excellent woman
had planted and cherished in his mind the sound principles
of morality and simple piety by which she herself had always
been governed. His father, after the death of his wife, grew
discontented, and moving across the mountains with their
stock and negroes, they settled in Kentucky. The daughter
94 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N.
married a well-to-do farmer \Yheii she was eighteen. Kot long
afterwards the father and the eldest brother were cut off im-
timely in a desperate encounter with fellows called " Regu-
lators," who, under pretence of supplementing the laws, car-
ried on all sorts of depredations and violence. Young Sassa-
fras killed the leader of the gang before the blood of his
father and brother was well off the ground, and desperately
wounded two others. They had relatives and friends, and
after carrying on a bitter, bloody and vindictive feud with
extraordinary daring and constancy, the young man — he was
hardly more than a youth — sold off most of his effects to his
brother-in-law, and started for Missouri with the. negroes, who
might be considered the survivors of his family. He also took
a lot of blood horses. He settled on the Missouri river, near
St. Joseph's, the old city founded by the French explorers and
traders. There he now owned a large plantation. He did not,
however, spend much of his'time upon it, but made excursions
to the Indian country, and sometimes visited New Orleans.
Meantime his laud and stock were honestly, if not thriftily,
looked after by his negroes, at the head of whom was a sage,
white-headed grandsire, who had " always been old," as Sas-
safras said, which meant as long as he could remember. Most
of the produce raised on the estate, save the tobacco, which
flourished much in the rich bottoms, was consumed upon it.
In fact, if any one had made it a matter of reproach to Sassa-
fras that he owned slaves, he would have replied, " If it comes
to that, they own me."
He was passionately fond of horses and horse-racing. He
was a bold, skilful and enduring rider, a sure shot with the
rifle, and a mighty hunter. He was not a quarrelsome man,
but he was a quick, tenacious and severe fighter when engaged.
He revered the memory of his mother, and sometimes curbed
his tongue in altercations and broils with the reflection, " ^ly
mother would not have approved of this." He was intensely
devoted to " Old Virginia," and it is to be remarked that the
most thoroughgoing and unselfish admirers of some states,
commonwealths and countries, ai-ie to be found among those
who have left them. Sassafras would sometimes laugh at a
reflection upon himself; but let anybody say anything against
the name, the fame, the honor or the wisdom of the " Old
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 95
Dominion," and his blood was up. The calumniator was re-
quired to retract or fight upon the spot.
About once a year Sassafras visited Baltimore, passing down
the Mississippi and up the Ohio by steamboat to Wheeling in
Virginia, and then riding across the mountains on horseback.
His business was to settle his accounts with an old Scotch
merchant to whom he sent his tobacco and his furs, and who
shipped to him sundry supplies. Two days before he had met
Tom Scarlet, Sassafras had presented himself, without notice,
as usual, at the merchant's warehouse, and had been ushered
into the inner office, where the old man sat at one desk and
his trusty bookkeeper, a canny Scot, at another. After a warm
greeting, there was some such colloquy as follows :
" Ye've sent no tobacco the year, Sassafras. How's that,
man?"
" I was off in the Indian country, Mr. Leith. The tobacco
is all right, and a good crop it is. It will be sent on after the
spring freshets have run out of our rivers."
" 'Tis good, is it, Sassafras ? And how many hogsheads ?"
said the old gentleman, taking a pinch of black rappee, im-
ported from " Edinboro' Toon."
" I don't precisely know how many, sir."
" Hear till this, Duncan ! hear till this ! Here is a planter
who don't know how many hogsheads of tobacco he's got to
ship !"
" I didn't count 'em. I know more about the furs, because
I brought them from up the Missouri river myself."
" And what will they be. Sassafras ?"
*' Why, there's mink and otter and beaver and fox, and
there's two silver fox, but they are not for you."
" Not for us ! How's that, man ?"
" I'm going to make a present of them to a lady — a young
lady, sir."
" Present to a leddy — a young leddy ! Nonsense, man ! The
value is very large — much too large."
" Very likely, but for all that I shall give 'em to your
daughter."
"Duncan, heard a man ever the like o'this! Sassafras,
there must be an invoice 0' the furs."
" Very well, you can make it yourself."
96 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
" And we maun settle our old account. Ye'll have had the
statement, Sassafras ?"
"O, yes, sir, I have the statement you sent."
"And ye've fund it correct?"
" I have. I have added up all the figures, and the totals
are right. The statement is a beautiful statement, only I can't
quite make out whether we are even, or whether I owe you
about a thousand dollars or you owe me a thousand."
" Good Lord ! Duncan ! hear till this ! Draw the man a
check for $1161.18, and let's get him oot o' this toon as soon
as may be."
" Never mind the odd cents, Duncan."
" But he must mind the odd cents. How the devil do ye
think the books can be balanced and the check no' show the
cents? Sassafras, ye'll dine wi' me the day. Duncan, ye'll
come and cut your mutton wi' us. And noo, as it's past the
hoor of noon, a wee drap of the auld stuffie from over yonder
will be no that ill to take. Bring out the Ferintosh, Duncan.
See ye draw the curtain close, too. Ye see, Sassafras, there's
a wheen young lads in the ooter office, and I'll set no bad ex-
ample to youth. Doou wi't, man ! Ye get na such dram as
that in the Indian country. Here's till ye !"
When the old merchant took his seat at the desk the follow-
ing morning, he said :
" Duncan, we mun gi' credit to Sassafras at the full market
price when his furs come to han'."
" Ay, sir ; and he mun get full weight in the entry of his
tobacco."
" Wha said anything about weight, ye fause loon ?"
" Weel, sir, I did. Yon chiel, Sassafras, accepts everything
we put doon without question, and he's no skeel in figures be-
yond adding up. 'Twould be a shame not to gi' him full
weight. Besides, we'll mak' it up oot of them ower-cute Yan-
kees fra' the North that come here haggling and objecting and
speering, and wushiiig a reduction of this, and demanding an
explanation o' that — we'll mak' it up oot o' tha cunning bodies
wha think a' body as unprincipled as theirsels."
" So we will, Duncan — so we will ! My certie, Duncan, but
ye're well grunded in the true mercantile principle, to which,
by the by, we'll take a wee drappie."
The education of Sassafras had been elementary only. But
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 97
it had been improved aud enlarged since his early school days.
He had derived much general information from several classes
of men. The chief of these were Catholic priests at an insti-
tution near St. Joseph's, aud certain Jesuit missionaries among
the Indians. Sassafras was not himself a Catholic. His
mother had been a member of the Episcopal Church of the
Old Dominion, and that was good enough for him. But he
respected the priests he knew, especially the missionaries.
Besides, when stricken with fever at I^ew Orleans, after
the expedition to the Grand Caiman, he had been nursed and
cured by the Sisters of the Charity Hospital. You might as
well abuse the Old Dominion as declaim against priests and
nuns to Sassafras after that. He gave money to help build
churches. He furnished the fathers with horses. Every year
at Christmas he overwhelmed the larder of the Lady Superior
(a French Countess) of the Sisters' House at St. Joseph's with
hogs, hindquarters of beef, turkeys, poultry and bucks, such
as delighted the heart of Father Abbot at Bolton Abbey in
the olden time. Sassafras was fond of books at leisure times.
He read but few, but these were good, and his taste had mainly
been guided by a good old Jesuit from the Canada side of the
line, who was as much English as French, and had been a
soldier in his youth. The last time the old man parted from
him was at an Indian encampment among the spurs of the
Rocky Mountains, and then the missionary said :
" Sassafras, my son, farewell ! We shall probably not meet
again. To say to you be brave, honest, and truthful I deem
unnecessary. But, Sassafras, be temperate, merciful and just.
Shed no blood, save upon absolute necessity. May God have
you in his keeping."
Sassafras and his English friend drew bridle in front of a
large frame house, with straggling out-buildings, which stood
back from the road. The moon was sinking in the West, but
there was light enough for the practised eye of Sassafras to see
that a herd of cattle lay in the yards adjacent to the out-build-
ings. He put his fingers to his mouth and whistled low but
shrill. A man came out, attended by a stout negro bearing a
lantern. The man was thin and tall. His face was expressive,
now grave, then lively and gay, and there was humor in his
gray eve and the lines about the corners of his flexible mouth.
*7
98 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
" Halloo, Sassafras !" said he, " what now? You are back
very soon."
<' Ay ! and a friend with me, but we shall not stop here now."
" Not stop ! why you won't go on to Smith's ! Your friend
is an Englishman, I see, and on a good horse. He's brought
money with him. They all do it. Don't let him go to
Smith's."
" Pierce !" said Sassafras, sharply, " there's been a little dif-
ficulty, and a fellow got cut with a knife in the ribs."
" I say, Sassafras, so you've been at it again !" said Pierce,
solemnly, and then he added with a grin, " and a knife, too !
You ought not to have used a knife."
" Well, a pistol would have done as well and I had one
about me, but the knife was handy to my grip. Besides, the
difficulty was hot just then, and a knife never misses fire.
Now, the man who was cut has got political influence, and
they will send men after us. I don't want to fight any more
to-night, and I don't want to be followed. Still, if we are fol-
lowed we are not going to kill our horses by running away.
You understand."
" I understand, Sassafras. You won't be followed beyond
this house — that is, if them that follow have got a bit of sense."
"Good ! who's here with those cattle?"
" Men from the West, who own them."
" From over the mountains ?"
" No ; this side of the mountains."
" Well, good-night. Pierce. Give my love to my cousin
Elizabeth, and tell her the next time I come East I'll take
her to the Old Dominion."
" Sassafras, stop that," said Pierce, with a gesture of alarm ;
*' them words ' Old Dominion' wakes up your sweet cousin in
the most astonishing manner, and her health is so precious
that I object to having her disturbed."
Sassafras and Tom Scarlet rode away. Pierce returned into
the bar-room of his tavern with the negro ; and while the latter
stood by the stove, the former made ready to refresh himself
with a glass of liquor. Before he got it to his lips there was
a patter as of little feet in slippers on the stairs at the back,
and a female voice, not as low and soft as Pierce or Kichard
Grant White might have wished, exclaimed :
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 99
" Pierce I"
He shook his head and looked at the negro, who thereupon
skook his head.
" Pierce ! Mlder Pierce !"
No answer, until the frill of a night-cap over certain black
eyes and black hair in curl-papers appeared round the bal-
usters. Mr. Pierce then exclaimed :
" I must have been dozing, my dear. What do you wish?''
" Who were you talking with outside, Pierce ?"
" Travellers, Elizabeth ; strangers going West."
" O, you bold deceiver ! It was my cousin — Sassafras.
And there's been a fight. Sassafras has whipped four or five
more. Acknowledge the corn. Pierce ! You know he has !"
" Well, my dear, if Sassafras was here, and if there was a
fight, Sassafras got the best of it."
" Of course ! He's a Virginian, from the Old Dominion.
So am I, Pierce !"
" My dear, I've heard that some thousands of times."
The footsteps retreated, and the good man was about to put
the tumbler to his lips, when Elizabeth said :
"Pierce, if men come here from Baltimore, send them
packing home again. Tell them that there's a party of Vir-
ginians on the road ahead ; and ,say, too, that your own wife,
a Sassafras by the mother's side, can hit a squirrel in a tree-
top with a two-grooved rifle — from the Old Dominion, Pierce!"
Mr. Pierce shook his head at the darkey, and listened like
a cat at a cupboard door, until he heard a sound above which
indicated that Mrs. Pierce had laid down again. He then
drained his glass, and, looking at the darkey, said :
"When a man, a Marylander, marries into one of the "
" Fust families !" said the darkey.
" Fust fighting families of Virginia, he nat'rally wishes his
member of the family to enjoy her sleep o' nights. Jacob,
there'll be men here from Baltimore. They will have driven
fast, and you'll have to look to their horses."
" Yes, sah ! and if dey trow a shoe, or break a trace, or
start a tire — such will happen sometimes on de road, sah !"
" Jacob, I see you understand, but I hope none of these ac-
cidents will happen on the road hack to Baltimore. What
will you take, Jacob ? Here's whiskey, very pure, made in
100 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
the raouutaius, Jacob; and here's rum, old, straight from
Jamaica."
" De whiskey, Massa Pierce, is bery fine. For de ole Ja-
maicky I hab great respect, sah I But habbiug been ras'd in
Virginia, away down on de Eastern shoah, de peach and honey
— real essence and true flavor ob de ole Doniin "
" Stop ! Here you are — help yourself!"
The miserable man — he was in bondage sore — took tlie
peach brandy in one hand and the honey in the other, and
compounded a tumbler full. His eye dilated, his nostrils ex-
panded, his mouth seemed to widen from ear to ear. And all
over his broad ebony countenance there spread a glow like
that of an African morning on the west coast.
" Jacob," said Mr. Pierce, " your missus is a singular good
woman."
" Dar no better *oman in de 'ole "
"Stop!"
"'Ole United States, sali ! Everybody say dat. De town
trash negroes in Baltimore acknowledge dat."
" Jacob, you may live — far distant be the day — to see your
missus in her coffin. You've heerd of people being buried
alive?"
" I hab heerd, but not experienced, sah."
"Well, Jacob, if you live to see your missus in her coffin,
jest wdiisper ' Ole Dominion ' close to her ear. If nothing
happens then it will be safe to proceed with the funeral."
No long time had elapsed before Pierce and the negro heard
the sound of approaching wheels, upon wdiich they fell asleep
instanter, and it was several minutes before they suffered them-
selves to wake up and admit the new-comers. There were six
men in the party, and the leader was a bluff, portly personage,
with the air of one in authority. He was addressed by the
others as Sheriff, but his office was only that of chief deputy.
" Any strangers in the house. Pierce ?" said he.
" Yes, there are — five or six. They own the cattle in the
yard and are going to the city at daybreak."
" Is there any stranger here, come from the city, a Western
man, with a sailor and an Englishman in his company ?"
" No such person in the house."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 101
" No man by the name of Sassafras, eh ? Do you know such
a person ?"
" I do. He stopped here some days ago as he went in.
What of him?"
" He has killed a man, that's all."
" Then if he is on the road he's gone on to Smith's beyond
any question. All such parties do. None but quiet, peacea-
ble citizens stop at my place, but at Smith's "
At this Pierce gave such an unutterable look and made such
a gesture as to signify that Smith's chosen customers were none
too good for Sassafras or any other man.
" We must follow him. How far do you call it to Smith's?"
" I call it a good deal too far for you to travel before day-
light," replied Pierce. " If Sassafras and the sailor and the
Englishman are there, they will have the backing of as des-
perate a gang as is to be met with on this side of the moun-
tains. If I were you I should stay here until daylight cer-
tain. You are not strong enough to take these men at
Smith's."
" The law would be on our side," said a timorous-looking
man who was of the sheriif 's party.
"You couldn't have a worse thing on your side at Smith's
when the knives and pistols and rifles come into play."
" You think Sassafras will resist ?"
" I know he will. He's been resisting somebody or some-
thing ever since he was fourteen years old, at which age he
fought at the polls for Jackson. Besides, I doubt whether he
won't be justified in resisting. Your warrant will not run
at Smith's; his house is in another county — a Democratic
county."
" And Sassafras is a Democrat, is he ?" said a sprightly little
man.
" I have it from his cousin, a noted shot with a two-grooved
rifle, who is not far away, that he fought at the polls for Jack-
son when fourteen years old, and he's been at it pretty much
ever since."
" Then I honor him," said the little man. " I'm a Democrat
myself, and I now give notice that I have been mistaken. The
sheriff" inveigled me into joining this party by pretending that
it was to go after a murdering ruffian, and I now find that he's
102 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
a respectable gentleman, a worthy fellow-citizen of the West.
This is a political manoeuvre — another Whig plot against the
rights of the people. Talk about resisting — I'll be d — d if I
don't resist it myself"
" The real truth is that you had better stay here till morn-
ing and then go back to Baltimore," said Pierce. " How can
it be expected that you gentlemen in buggies, responsible men
of homes and reputation, can come up with such a set of dare-
devils as Sassafras and Smith's gang, and them on horseback ?
Besides, if you could come up with them, you would be am-
bushed to a certainty. That cousin can hit a squirrel in a
tree-top with a two-grooved rifle — that I know, for I've seen it
done. The best thing for all concerned is just to let Sassafras
go his ways. The state of Maryland will be well shet of him,
and you'll take no damage in any respect."
"As a father of a family," said the timorous-looking man,
" I look upon Pierce's advice as good."
" I have something else to say about Sassafras, which the
sheriff ought to hear," said Pierce. " Look at this paper. I
got it through the cousin I mentioned, copied it with my own
hand from the original, which you'll find in the possession of
Sassafras, if you ever get hold of him. Now listen :
" ' Greenbriar, Virginia.
" ' This is to certify to my friends that John Sassafras, Dem-
ocrat and Jackson man, came to my aid in a time of great
peril, and saved my life at the imminent risk of his own.
(Signed) Hexry Clay.' "
"Let me see that paper," said the sheriff. "Ay! that's
]Mr. Clay's hand and style, sure enough !"
" Hand and style ! Why, it's a copy !" said the little man.
" Very well, what if it is ? Do you think Pierce can copy
from Harry of the West and me not find it out? It will be
of no use for us to put ourselves into trouble and danger in
order to take this man. Xo jury will convict. Pierce, copy
me that off. We'll stay here till morning, and then take the
back track."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 103
CHAPTER XII.
" The western sky was all aflame,
The day was well nigh done —
Almost upon the western wave
Rested the broad, bright sun."
AT the time of which I write, between forty and fifty years
ago, the Republic of the United States of America,
although vast in,,exteut even then, had not embraced several
great regions which are now within its boundaries. Texas, an
empire in itself, so far as extent and fertility are concerned,
had not been annexed. Neither California, New Mexico, nor
Arizona had been acquired. Moreover, a vast portion of the
country, which is now partly settled and fruitful to the hus-
bandman, or valuable to the cattle-breeder and miner, was
then in a state of nature, wholly unsubdued and almost wholly
unknown. Great forests, immense prairies, wide as seas, lofty
and rugged mountains, and tracts wild and desolate as the
deserts of old Arabia or young Australia, were then part and
parcel of its territory. To the west of the Mississippi river the
population was very sparse, save towards its mouth, in low lat-
itudes ; and it was largely composed of adventurers, trappers,
hunters, Indian traders, and the like. In the great state of Ar-
kansas there were but a few thousand inhabitants, exclusive of
Indians. In Missouri there were not many. The settlements
w^ere mostly upon the rivers. On the Arkansas, Little Rock
was the only place of note. On the Mississippi and Missouri
the old French towns of St. Louis and St. Joseph's were the
seats of population and trade. The latter was the northeastern
starting point of the famous Sante Fe trail, the route by which
the interior of the vast regions of the Southwest was reached,
and the bullion of New Mexico brought to the States. The
rich deposits of gold and silver in our own country were then
as unknown and as unsuspected as was the existence of this
continent itself when Christopher Columbus sailed from Palos.
The western parts of Missouri and Arkansas were the hunting
grounds of powerful and predatory Indian tribes, and the
resorts of buffaloes in immense herds. Beyond these western
104 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
boundaries there was, practically, a vast terra incognita, the
home of the savage, the buffalo, the elk, and the grizzly bear.
Explorers sometimes penetrated into the passes of the Rocky
Mountains. Trappers and hunters sometimes ventured in the
" Parks," ^vhich lie between their spurs, but their numbers
were scanty and their visits far between. Indian traders had
here and there, in this vast wilderness, what they dignified by
the name of forts, but which were chiefly mere trading posts,
erected for the purpose of traffic in buffalo robes, skins and
furs. Almost all kept, as near as might be, to the Santa Fe
trail, for that was about the only known ro^te, and the sole
means of succor and supply in times of danger and scarcity.
The Indian tribes, though savage, improvident, turbulent and
inconstant, were then much more powerful in numbers and or-
ganization than they are now ; while their peoj^le were not
nearly as debased, individually, as they have since become.
Years ^fter that period, many bands of Sioux, who hunted
upon the ujjper waters of the Missouri, about Fort Benton,
had never tasted the " fire water," and thought Charles Pri-
meaux, manager of the western posts of the American Fur
Company, the richest and the greatest man on earth. He re-
ceived by a steamboat, which painfully struggled up the Mis-
souri to Fort Benton about once in two years, such supplies
of powder, lead, blankets, etc., as made the untutored savages
think the wealth of the world was poured out at his feet. To
the southward, the tribes, always nomadic in their habits, were
almost constantly encroaching upon the grounds of other tribes,
while what they called their own were encroached upon in
turn ; so that it would now be nearly as difficult to assign to
any one of them its j)roper limits, as it was for Gibbon to
trace the wanderings, the innumerable vicissitudes and changes
of many of those hordes of barbarians who overthrew the
Roman Empire. It is sufficient here to say that the Indians
between the borders of Missouri and Arkansas and the Rocky
Mountains were predatory, fierce, aggressive, and all horsemen.
And it may also be affirmed that many of the whites with
whom they were brought in contact were nearly as ignorant
and savage, and quite as greedy and unscrupulous as them-
selves. The neighborhoods of the trading posts were some-
times the scenes of jirivation which bordered on famine. At
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 105
other times they rang with drunken revelry, and barbaric
23rofusion was mingled with brawl and slaughter.
On the afternoon of a clear, hot day, towards the end of
August, a small train was passing over the practically bound-
less prairies to the eastward of the Santa Fe trail. It was
trending to the southward and eastward, so as to point for those
head-w^aters of the Arkansas river which rise in the neighbor-
hood of the Ozark ^lountains. The party had left St. Joseph's
many days before, and having gained a good departure to the
southwest along the trail, its leader had now inclined to the
left, as if he meant to strike the northwest corner of Arkansas.
The train itself consisted of four wagons, draw^n by mules and
driven by negroes. It was preceded by two men on horseback,
and followed by two more. Behind two of the wagons there
were powerful horses, clad in sheets and hoods of a light,
striped fabric. The pace the travellers went was slow% for the
afternoon was intensely hot ; but they proceeded steadily along
tow^ards a thin fringe of cottonw^ood trees, or, rather, bushes,
dimly seen in the distance, near which the leader knew he
should find the great necessity of the prairie at that season —
fresh water. One of the men who rode in advance w^as tanned
so red, his beard was so overgrown and scorched by the sum-
mer sun, and he was so clad and armed in the fashion of the
rovers of the West, that he would not have been known by
his friends, nor even by his enemies, if some of them had met
him there and then. It was Tom Scarlet, Master of the Grange,
in the parish of Kidingcumstoke. His companion, the leader
and captain of the band, \vas Sassafras, now in his proper ele-
ment upon a roving expedition. As he sat his horse with the
ease and freedom of the Indian, and the short stirrup and bent
knee of all the real riding races, as contrasted with the long
leathers and straight leg of those who teach equitation, he
seemed to be almost a part of the animal he rode. Sometimes
Sassafras had gone as far as New Mexico to the southwest.
Upon other occasions he had spent weeks with the chiefs and
head men of the Cherokee nation in their territory. Some-
times he hunted and camped, and if occasion happened, fought
with the nomadic Indians of the plains and mountains. But
whenever he went upon his Western expeditions he always took
one or two thoroughbred horses with him, and was ready to
106 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
run against anybody for anything. After spending some time
at his plantation, Sassafras had taken Tom Scarlet to St. Louis.
While there he received from some boatmen on the river cer-
tain information -svhich induced him to hurry back to St. Jo-
seph's. There he speedily equipped his train. Taking with
him four of his negroes, and associating with himself two
experienced frontier men, he crossed the Missouri and set forth
boldly towards the southwest. The supplies for the needs of
himself and men were neither expensive nor extensive. Am-
munition, salt, coffee, sugar, bacon and a few bags of corn-meal
composed their stock, as they knew they could mainly live by
the game which would fall to their rifles. The wagons were
loaded, in great part, with bags of oats and bales of corn-fodder,
the latter plucked and cured while the stalk was green. These
were for the race-horses. Sassafras had learned, by a long and
wide experience, that grass and Indian corn would not suflice
for the race-horse, if he was to be called upon to display his
high powers of speed and endurance.
They journeyed on. The white men with knives in their
belts and pistols in their pockets, their rifles ready to their
hands in the wagons. The negroes laughed and sung, while
the sweat rolled down their faces in thick streams.
" Is the weather always as hot as this in these parts ?" said
Tom Scarlet. " I protest. Sassafras, that I am roasted and
basted, like a goose at Christmas, and before long I think I
shall be done brown, if not burned to a cinder. It is terribly
oppressive !"
" The weather is a little hot — hot even for these parts," said
Sassafras ; " but you'll get used to it in a little while, and think
it very pleasant. For my part, a good deal of sunshine agrees
with me. You'll get used to it, and come to like it."
" I think I have become used to it, but as to liking it, that
is another matter. Does it never change here ? Ever since
we left St. Joseph's it has been unvarying — blue sky and
blazing sun."
" Well, it does change a little, as you'll find out before very
long," said Sassafras. " The moon is near the full. Before
she passes into her decline we are likely to have a storm.
Before it comes I hope to reach the timber belt at the foot of
the Ozark spurs, for it rips heavy over these prairies sometimes,
especially after a long spell of dry, hot weather."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON, 107
" You seem to know this wild, lonely country as the sailors
know the sea, aided by their instruments and the sun, moon,
and stars. Sassafras. Were you born about here ?"
"Born about here! Why, no white men have ever been
born about here, and some think there never will be any.
But I hold to another opinion. Where buffaloes can live and
trains can subsist their men and horses on a passage, folks can
make settlements and thrive. So I think this part of the
country will finally be staked out and bounded, and towns
built, but not yet for a good while."
" You are a Western man?" said Tom, inquiringly.
" A Western man, yes. But I was born in Old Virginia, a
thousand miles and more to the eastward ; some say nigh upon
two thousand by the way we have to travel to get there. My
father lived in King GeDrge county. I was but a boy when
he moved his family to the West, after mother's death," said
Sassafras, slowly.
" Tell me all about it," said Tom.
" The all is but little," Sassafras replied. " We were four —
'father, two sons and one daughter. I was the youngest. We
crossed the mountains with two wagons — the big Virginia
wagons with hoops and cotton tilts. We had two thorough-
bred mares hitched to the tail of the wagons, and underneath
there were chained two couple of the best hounds that ever
ran a red fox through the underbrush. It's many years ago,
but I remember all the journey. How the wolves used to
howl away off from our fire at night ! and how the panther
screeched in the rocks and woods above !"
" And you went on in this way to Missouri ?"
" No, no ! we settled in Kentucky, and lived there ; but we
had ill luck after some time. My father and brother were
killed in a fight. I have wiped that score out since," said Sas-
safras, sternly, while there was a gleam of fire from his eyes
that made his companion start. " My sister married and her
husband is a very good man. After that I got restless and
went further west."
They rode on in silence for some time. Then Sassafras
cleared his throat, and said, " I visit the graves in Kentucky
once a year, and my sister brings her children there to meet
me. Sometimes I go to Virginia to the graves we have there."
108 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N.
" It is good," said his companion.
*' So I find it. In old King George my grandfathers and
grandmothers and all our kin before them, lie, as well as my
mother," said Sassafras.
" I'm glad of that. Men should hold their forefathers in
remembrance ; be proud of them. They have no reason to be
ashamed to visit the places of their burial. Some have said
that you Americans cared nothing for old homes and the
graves of the households that were your ancestors."
" It's a lie !" said Sassafras, earnestly, " at least, so far as we
of Virginia are concerned. Of the down-east people I don't
know much, but from what I do know, I believe it to be a lie
in regard to them, also."
They rode on a little further, when Sassafras said, "Look at
our horses. What do you think ails them ?"
" I do not know. There's something unusual," replied Tom.
" Perhaps they smell the water, or a wild beast lias passed
here."
"It isn't the water," said Sassafras. " They have been here
before, and know where that is as well as I do. No wild beast
has passed that I or they know of, although a wolf may
have prowled by here last night. There are buffalo within a
few miles of us. These horses are old buffalo hunters, and
scent a herd long before w^e can see it. AYe may have tongue
and steaks for supper."
The herd of bison, a small one, was soon seen leisurely graz-
ing along one of those hollows of the prairie in which the
grass was freshest. There were several bulls in the van, great
fellows, with massive heads and horns, gigantic shoulders and
withers, and wild, shaggy fronts.
" Keep quiet," said Sassafras. " AVc must let the Gumbos
pass them to the right and left, and get upon their flanks.
Our horses are pretty well tuckered out, and if the herd stam-
pede the slow^est of them will distance us."
" Gumbos ! are there Indians in sight, too ?" said Tom.
" Indians! no. The Gumbos are the Frenchmen — our men.
They are Gumlio French, which means the French of St. Louis
and St. Jo. and all the frontier. First-rate men they are, too,
for the plains, the rivers and the mountains."
" Can't we dismount, and stalk the buffaloes mth our rifles?"
said Tom Scarlet.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 109
« No, you can't stalk buffalo a-foot. They smell the powder
in the gun, some say," replied Sassafras.
" I have heard the same of crows in England, but I don't
believe it," returned Tom.
" Nor I, They can smell the man that carries the gun, and
as he is out of sight they are all the more wary," said Sassa-
fras. " A good many things concerning wild birds and ani-
mals are put down by men who know nothing about it."
This observation is as true now as it was then. It was
gravely announced recently by the London Spectator, in an
article on the power of sea-birds to estimate distances, that at
a certain place they had calculated the difference of range be-
tween shot-guns and rifles as soon as the latter were introduced,
and in two or three days kept just outside of the range of two
thousand yards. The author of this valuable addition to nat-
ural history was evidently unaware of the fact that a hundred
riflemen could not hit a sea-bird at two thousand yards once a
week, if they shot every day and all day long.
The train was halted. The proper dispositions were made,
and the men let their eager horses go for the buffaloes. A cow
in good condition, and a yearling, fell to their fire. The sun
now declined, slow and majestic, towards the edge of the west-
ern horizon, and all that quarter of the heavens was flooded
with rosy light. The camping place at the stunted cottonwood,
by the scanty pool of the creek, was reached. The weary horses
were relieved of their riders, the mules hobbled and turned
loose, and the race-horses watered and fed. The men ate their
evening meal and smoked their pipes. Then the first watch
was set ; and while the sentinel remained silent and alert, the
others stretched themselves upon buffalo robes and fell asleep.
The middle watch was kept by Tom Scarlet. He paced to
and fro by the wagon. The moon had risen high in the heav-
ens, and now flooded the prairie, far and near, with a sea of
silver light, whose even wave no shadow broke. A light fog,
close to the ground, took the white beams, and looked like
smooth water. The scene was grand in its sublimity and awful
in its silent desolation. No sound broke the silence of the
night. No howl of wolf, nor hoot of owl, nor cry of whip-
poor-will invaded it. The very men and horses might have
been dead — they were so still and motionless — remains of a
110 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
band of explorers, \Yhose bones would whiten in the realm of
the mighty and mysterious wilderness. The young English-
man felt the influence of the scene, the hour and the place —
the place ! one spot in what seemed boundless space. He
thought of his home in the fair vale of the populous little
island over the sea. The sadness of the solitude grew upon
him. But Sassafras rose silently from the shaggy robe which
was his couch, and broke the spell, saying :
"Watchman, what of the night?"
" Nothing ; but it seems so lonely here," replied Tom. " We
might fancy ourselves the only beings in a wide world shone
upon by yonder moon. Sassafras, 1 am sad to-night."
They sat down together, and talked in the low tones befit-
ting the pale hour and the solemn scene that lay before them.
The AVestern man, in spite of his wandering life, had read
much, in a few books. His memory was retentive, his pene-
tration quick and deep. The young Englishman was surprised
to find him well-informed upon topics of which he knew but
little himself. Sassafras loved history, especially the history of
England and of this country, as taught in the lives, the works,
and the famous exploits of their great men. After some time,
their conversation gradually diverged to the subject of their
expedition.
"If we have been running a false scent after all, it will be
very provoking. Sassafras. I shall, however, have had experi-
ence of a region vast and wild beyond conception to me before,
and of a way of life glorious in its freedom and the absence
of petty things and cares."
* "All true, Tom," said Sassafras ; " you have left petty cares
behind you. But then you have also left the true-hearted girl,
and the warm friends, and you will rejoice to see them again.
We are on no false scent. We shall hit the head of the
snake's trail, instead of beginning at the tail of it, that's all."
" You still think so, do you ?" said Tom, anxiously.
" Do I ? Ay, I do. It isn't a moonlight night in a lone
camping place that'll shake my conclusions," replied Sassa-
fras. " The information received from Orleans was mystical
in words, no doubt, but true enough in substance. Staples
was bound up the river and West by way of the Arkansas,
making for the Ozarks. Your man, Jagger, was with him,
and he had the White Horse."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. m
" Suppose this information should be the device of an enemy,
instead of the ^va^ning of a friend, and intended to lure me
into these wild parts ?" said Tom.
" There is not a bit of sense in supposing any such thing. I
sent word to friends in New Orleans to make inquiries. This
information comes not from them, but no doubt from somebody
who heard from them, and who knows Jagger and all hfs
moves; who is also your friend, but don't want Jagger to
know it just yet. This is the lay of it, as sure as my name's
Sassafras.'^
" I hope it is so, but I have no friend in New Orleans," said
Tom, after a pause.
" It must be so," said Sassafras, earnestly. "No enemy who
wanted to decoy you into these parts to your harm would have
decoyed me along with you, unless he was the biggest fool that
ever sailed up the passes of the Mississippi river. Why,
man, none other of my sort has as much influence with the In-
dians of these plains as I have. I can raise a ' power,' as they
called it in Old England, in the days of the Eoses and the
Barons. Old Staples has as much influence as I have, if not
more, in the Cherokee Nation ; but this business must be set-
tled here, where the red horsemen, who roam and hunt all the
way from the Ozarks to the Rocky Mountains, will be the re-
ferees. They don't like Staples a bit too much ; and he's no
favorite at all of the Comanches and Kiowas, whose country
is further to the Southwest. Enemy ! why I want to show
you ! You've no enemy in all this land but Jagger. Nobody
knows who you are but me and him ; and he won't know you
when you meet again, if you keep a still tongue."
" He may have told all sorts of lies about me," said Tom.
" The man is a villain. Sassafras, capable of anything. He
knows that I was hard upon his heels at Liverpool, but unfor-
tunately, by the advice of Cox, I took ship for Baltimore,
while Jagger must have sailed for New Orleans."
" It was not unfortunate that you came to Baltimore, but
all the other way. You and I met there, and I reckon my-
self a gainer by it," said Sassafras.
Tom thanked him warmly.
" Jagger would have had the best of you at New Orleans.
I believe you said he had been there before ?" said Sassafras.
112 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOX.
" I said he had been in the West Indies."
"It's the same thing. FeUows of his hang and stamp
ahvays turn up at Orleans at last, when they visit the West
India Islands — that is, the Windward Islands. When we got
this news at St. Jo., concerning him and Old Staples, I said to
myself, ' Bo3's, I know where you're pinting for, and you'll
meet somebody at the post, about the spurs of the Ozarks, that
you little think of.' Luckily an exj^edition was about to set
out for the head-waters of the Kansas river, with supplies, and
to hold a talk with some of the chiefs. By that I sent word
to a fast friend of mine, a chief among the Cheyennes, whose
main hunting-ground is now about Solomon's Fork. I
requested him to cross the plains and be at an old rendezvous
of ours early in September, or a little earlier if he could."
"And do you think the Indian will come?" said Tom.
"As sure as water runs down hill. Cinnamon will come, if
alive, with a band of his young men — a band able to hold
their own against the drunken, crazy set that are mostly in the
neighborhood of the post at this time of year."
" Well, then, Jagger may have said anything, and may say
what he will, and not harm me ?"
" You are a young man of plenty of sense, in most ways,
but as innocent as a baby in a venture of this kind," said
Sassafras. " Jagger will never mention your name ; he'll
think you are a good thousand miles away, and probably four
or five thousand — gone back to England. Why would he
mention you ? He would as soon see the d — 1 as you any of
these days, because you know that he has run away with a
heap of money belonging to other folks and stole your horse.
!Now, I can tell you that the people in these parts, whether
about the towns, in the woods or on the prairies, don't hanker
after horse-thieves, except ai the jope's end or through the
sights of a rifle."
There was great significance in the way Sassafras said this.
" You say Captain Staples is a shrewd man. Is he honest
and fair-minded as well as shrewd ?" said Tom.
"Honest! Lord bless your innocent heart alive! he's the
d — dest rogue in North America! But it ain't everybody
that can find him out though. I soon found him out. He's
cunning as a fox and treacherous as a wolf."
THE WHITE HOESE OF WOOTTOK. 113
" You describe a man ^vitliout a single good quality."
" Xo, I don't," rejDlied Sassafras. " I don't say lie is without
plenty of courage of a certain' sort. He has it. Show him
prey, and he's fierce as a tiger. But he grows old, and is no
longer quick and prompt enough for open fight with a man
like me."
" What hold can Jagger have established upon a man like
this ?" said Tom. " I have seen the fellow in a row at home ;
and when there were not strong odds on his side he was chicken-
hearted."
" He has no hold on Staples. It is nothing but the attrac-
tion of his gold. The old man swings to it like the needle to
the north star. Staples has established the hold on him ; and
he is not likely to let go wdiile the other man's money lasts.
Some difficulty we shall have in managing the matter when
we meet them at the post. Your countryman is of no account
out here. It would be very easy to settle with him. Staples
is the nut that is hard to crack. We might buy him off, but
it would cost a sight of money ; and I'm opposed, on principle,
to paying him a red cent."
" So am I," said Tom. " The horse is mine. He has been
paid for once, and he shall not be paid for again."
" Good ! The next thing is, we may gamble for him, or
run for him ; and win him at poker, or in a race."
" But we might lose. Sassafras, and that would be equiva-
lent to paying twice over and not getting him at last. We
must find some other plan."
" Very well," replied Sassafras. " If no better way ofiTers, we
can take him by the art of war — a mixture of force and strat-
agem. By making all the Indians, save a select band of Cin-
namon's men, drunk, we can get up a free fight, and while
h — I's bells are ringing can run the horse off to a cache I know
of before Staples and Jagger can tell that the hair is still
upon their heads."
" I do not think it will do," said Tom. " Innocent blood
would be shed. The horse is my property. When I have
found to a certainty where he is, cannot I recover him by the
law ?"
" The law ! why bless your innocent soul, ' Old Father
Antic, the law,' was never within some hundreds of miles of
8
114 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO K
this place. There's no law here but such as white meu and
red men can make good with knives and rifles," replied Sas-
safras, laughing.
" It is true, we are far in the desert, but the law has long
arms. Are we not still in the United States ?"
" Ay, lad, in the territory of the United States, that we be,
and if we were to pass a thousand miles further to the west-
ward we should be still. But only a little of this land is
staked and bounded, like lots in St. Jo., and no sheriff or
marshal has ever served a writ here. We are in what is called
the Indian Territory, an immense country that white men
know but very little about, as yet — prairies and forests ; plains
and mountains ; then more plains and more mountains and
barren wastes, and big rivers that in flood time come thunder-
ing down to make up the great streams of the Missouri and
the Arkansas."
With this Sassafras rose, and the convei-sation ceased.
CHAPTER XIII.
"Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows,
AVhile gaily sailing o'er the azure realm,
In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes,
Youth at the prow, and ])leasure at the helm,
Unmindful of the treacherous whirlwind's sway,
That, hushed in grim repose, expects his evening prey."
IVTEXT day, and the next, the journey of the party was con-
-^^ tinned towards the south and east, Sassafras and Tom
Scarlet riding in the lead as before. The negroes, merrily
carolling their old plantation songs, followed with the teams
and wagons. The Frenchmen brought up the rear. The
swells of the prairie now rose higher at almost every mile, and
it was cut and scraped here and there by ravines, in crossing
some of which the quick eye of the frontier man detected the
tracks of wolves. Water was more frequent, and at some
pools they saw where buflttloes had wallowed in the mud upon
the marge. The dead stillness of the prairie left behind was
exchanged for sounds and sights of life, even if it were but
the hoarse croak and flight of ravens, which sailed in circles
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 115
overliead on ragged wings. At length Sassafras paused and
pointed out, in the distance, the loom of a range of hills to the
south-southeast. They were the. spurs of the Ozark Moun-
tains, and on the far side of them, Tom was told, where the
slopes were sheltered from the sweep of the prairie winds in
winter, they should find belts of timber, white oaks and black
walnuts.
The young Englishman had now grown very weary of the
blue above and the brown below. The heat still continued.
The same unclouded sky was over all ; the fervent sun still cast
its burning rays upon the dry or reeking earth. It was sorely
oppressive. The mules stood it well, much better than the
horses. The approach to the uplands was good news to Tom
Scarlet. The notion of hills and groves, clear springs and
green trees, verdant slopes and grassy valleys, took possession
of him, and he began to lament that he had left Danger at
the plantation near St. Jo.
" Sassafras," said he, " I'd give a trifle if we had brought
Danger with us. He is a rare horse for a timber country."
" Horse for a timber country !" replied the man of the fron-
tier ; " the timber in the parts hereabouts isn't post-and-rail
fences, between grass lands, with a clump of oak trees here,
another of ash yonder, and another of elm a little further off.
It's woods ; small trees, but many of them, about the rocky
ground ; big trees, the growth of ages, in the rich, deep places
where the good soil has gathered thick. Underneath their
arms lie the mouldering trunks of other giants, grown long
ago and overthrown by the storms of other days. The squalls
come through the shutes between the hills with a power some-
times, and level miles of tall timber flat in a minute. Why,
the Indians can ride little better than a foot pace there ; and
unless Danger is quicker than a cat, he'd be down before he
had gone five rods."
" But if we had him we might run him a race at the trad-
ing post. It's my belief he can give any horse in this part of
the country a stone of weight, and a beating. I fully believe
that," said Tom.
" I don't think he could give one or two a pound," said
Sassafras, glancing over his shoulder at the gray mare and the
bay horse that leisurely followed the wagons. " Good as he
116 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
may have been in England, I would not trust him here. Let
him stay at St. Jo. My boys ^Yill gallop him along gently,
and get him acclimated. Late along in the fall, when the
corn shocks stand in the fields, and the shucked heaps are
yellow on the black ground ; when the leaves show crimson,
russet and gold among the green, and the hoar-frost glistens
on the grass in the first beams of the morning sun, we may
perhaps bring him to a race ; that is, if we get back to the
settlements in time. Besides, you told me he was not alto-
gether thoroughbred."
" Yes, he must be well enough bred for this country, as the
stain is remote. He is by Stumps out of a mare by Sultan,
her dam by Walton."
" Well, go on ; that ain't half enough. What about the
dam of the Walton mare ?" said Sassafras.
Mr. Scarlet looked at Sassafras as if surprised. Then he
answered :
" Concerning her there is some doubt ; she was certainly got
by Tramp, and many said that her dam was by Dick An-
drews, out of a thoroughbred mare."
" That story won't hold. A Dick Andrews mare would
hardly have been put to Tramp, as he was got by Dick An-
drews," said Sassafras.
" That's true enough ! In fact. Sir Jerry Snaffle and John
Bullfinch say that the dam of the Tramp mare ims out of a
thoroughbred mare, but by a gypsy pony, instead of by Dick
Andrews. This pony was well-bred himself, and got into the
pasture where the mare was at spring grass. So you see, even
if this is the true bill. Danger is almost thoroughbred," replied
Tom.
" Ah, that almod ! How many races have been almost won
that would have been quite won if the horse had been quiie,
instead of almost, thoroughbred ! I go in for a clear pedigree,
especially for stock to run over a distance of ground and
repeat heats. When there's a black drop in it, it is sure to show
itself some time, and it generally happens at a very inconve-
nient time."
" Do you mean to say that your horses — these behind us —
have full, clean pedigrees, according to English rules ?"
" I certainly do. As clean as any in your Stud-Book. They
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 117
are without a cold cross, right back to Eclipse and King
Herod, Matchem and Snap," said Sassafras.
" Why, how can that be. Sassafras ?"
" In this way : our forefathers in Virginia, Maryland and
the Carolinas imported from England many horses and mares
of the best blood in the kingdom. The importations of others,
as good, has been going on, in a degree, ever since. The thor-
oughbred blood has been kept unsullied by any other strain ;
and these are of it," said Sassafras, looking back at the bay
and gray.
" It may be as you say ; but I hardly believe that the thor-
oughbred horse of real high stamp can have maintained his
excellence here."
« Why not ?"
"Well, because things are so different. The country is
vast, overwhelming ! But it isn't like England, you know."
" Did you expect it to be like England — come, Tom ?" said
Sassafras.
" Well, not altogether, but in a measure I did."
"That's where all the trouble between Englishmen and
Americans comes from," said Sassafras, earnestly. " Each wants
to find the other country like his own, and the other people
like his own people. And because God never made the coun-
tries alike, and in the nature of things the people can't be
just alike, they pitch in and abuse one another."
Mr. Scarlet stared at the roving, raciug philosopher for
about a minute. He then said :
" I shall never speak ill of this country or of its people.
I should be a fool or a very ungrateful man if I did ; but
there are things here I don't think I could put up with perma-
nently."
" What may those things be ?" said Sassafras.
"The heat has been intolerable for two or three months,
and before we left the settlements and wooded land the mos-
quitoes w^ere awful."
Sassafras laughed.
"You had a very light touch of the mosquitoes, considering."
" Considering what ?"
"Considering the time of year," said Sassafras. "How-
ever, a few musquitoes are too many for strangers. Like
118 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON,
the giant in the story book, they can smell the blood of an
Englishman. I remember a boxer who had lauded at Orleans,
a stout, ruddy fellow, by the name of Bonnox, brought over
from Hampshire by the sailor Cox. On the second morning
after his arrival he looked as if he had lately had the small-
pox, or had been having a turn-up with somebody and got the
worst of it. His eyes were bunged up, and his nose was well-
nigh as big as a champagne bottle. * Halloo, Bonnox !' said I,
* have you been fighting here already ?' ' Noa, master, noa T
says he. * It's the d — d insecks as worrits me. Blast such a
country as this, I say ! Give me Old England, even if we're
never able to bring off a civil fight there again."
When Tom had laughed, Sassafras continued :
*' Such men .as Bonnox, if it's summer time, generally go
back home after a stay here of about a fortnight or three
"weeks. That time is spent, for the most part drunk, in expa-
tiating upon the joys of life in England and swearing at every-
thing in this benighted country. There is another class much
more to blame, because they ought to know better than the
poor ignorant fellows of the Bonnox stamp."
" And what say those ?"
" O, it runs after this fashion : < Having seen a great deal
of the country, and given its people, institutions, climate, and
so forth the most careful consideration, I have come to the im-
partial conclusion that everything here is wrong. The State
House at Albany is a wretched building. At Buffalo the
houses are built of wood, and the people use it for fuel, which
was once the wasteful and improvident practice of the lower
classes in England. I admit that there is coal at Pittsburgh,
but the lamentable truth is that it is nothing like as black as
our English coal is. The country about the Ohio river is too
hilly. About the Mississippi it is too flat. The Missouri is a
muddy, turbulent stream, not at all like the Avon or the
Thames. Finally, there's no ale anywhere, and the American
water is unfit to drink.' "
After another laugh, Sassafras continued :
" This is the style of the people who after a few weeks in
this country go home to England and write a book about it, or
a few letters to the newspapers, in which this western laud is
rode over rou2:h-shod. Now the men know no more about this
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 119
country than a hen scratching on the toj) of a hill knows of
the ores that lie beneath. But then in consequence of what
one fool has published in England up jumps a bigger fool here
and denounces England, lock, stock and barrel, for everything
she has done since Julius Caesar's time. So the game goes on
— see-saw ! you're another ! — and it's carried on in the main
by those wlio think themselves above their neighbors. The
truth is that the prevailing notions in the Eastern cities about
the people of the West are no more correct than those of the
conceited English tourists. Some day they'll find out that
there is a little of this country outside of Boston and New
York."
"There is a great deal of misconception, no doubt. To
understand things rightly, we must see them close and observe
them carefully," Tom remarked.
" True, my friend. Look at that speck yonder in the sky,"
said Sassafras, pointing to the southeast. "What do you
think that is ?"
" I don't know. It looks like a skylark hovering high over
a brown harvest field," replied Tom.
" That is an eagle, ten feet or thereabouts across the wings,"
said Sassafras. " But we must better the pace. The change
in the weather I told you of will come at sundown or soon
after, and we ought to be off* the levels and to the leeward of
a hill when the storm strikes."
To the untaught Englishman there was little or nothing in
the aspect of the heavens to indicate the storm which Sassafras
so confidently predicted as close at hand ; but to the expe-
rienced eye of the latter, and those of the Frenchmen, the
signs were unmistakable. The cloud, no bigger than a man's
hand, had appeared upon the western horizon, and they knew
what would speedily follow. They held a brief consultation.
Then the course of their journey was slightly changed and its
rate increased. The mules, stimulated by the whips and loud
cries of the negroes, were put to their best pace wherever the
ground was good. The party held straight for the nearest of
the bold ridges which bounded the prairie. It was still at
some distance, but had taken form and substance to the eye— a
rough, sharp slope, with a few stunted, twisted trees and strag-
glin'g bushes on its northwestern front. Sassafras now looked
120 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO X.
over bis right shoulder frequently aiul called to the negroes to
hasten. They, iu turn, shouted to the mules lustily, calling
them by name, sometimes with coaxing and entreaty, and
again with loud yells and vituperative epithets. The sun was
still tolerably high iu the heavens, and the heat was even
greater than at his meridian. The light eastern breeze had
almost died away to a close, sultry calm. In the western board
there appeard a large bank of pale, woolly-looking clouds,
Avith here and there a white, rounded dome rising above it.
Gradually, and as if inflated by some vast power within, these
domes swelled upwards and outwards, and threw forth other
and loftier domes of the like shape and color. Great snowy
mountains seemed to be heaped one on another in the w^est,
with other mountains, many and huge, struggling and push-
ing from below, in all that quarter of the sky. It was as if
the powers of the air were gathering their forces on the con-
fines of the earth to try and overwhelm it. Slowdy, and with
the calm grandeur of nature before a great convulsion, these
white aerial mountains, half earth, half cloud to the erring
sight, rose to meet the declining sun. He sank in their eclipse,
gilding the edges and domes of the moving mountains for a
few moments with rims of burning gold. Then a sombre
shade fell upon the western world from the towering clouds,
whose bases had become as black as night. The ravens flew to
the left. There was a low m.oan over the land, as if the earth
drew breath for the coming struggle in one last flutter of the
eastern breeze.
The travellers reached the ridge, and with shoulders to the
wheels and loud shouts to the mules, forced the wagons up it.
They crossed hastily, and descended into a low bottom, among
trees of some size and thick underbrush. Here Sassafras soon
found the refuge iu which he intended to pass the night. It
was a rude, half-ruined structure of logs, bark and saplings,
built in the centre of a group of the largest trees. It took the
work of about an hour to stop its holes and brace its sides,
against the rapidly coming storm. The men worked ^Yith a
will. Buflalo robes were stretched over the top and down the
windward side. The provisions, feed and fodder were carried
into the place. The wagons were drawn up as close to its
sides as might be, so as to break, in a measure, tlie stroke of
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 121
tlie wind. The latter would come from the west, but Sassa-
fras knew that it might chojj to the uorth or south. The
mules were hobbled, fed and turned to leeward. The horses
were led in and fastened in close array to the sides of
the hut. Then the fire was built and kindled, and while the
dusk of the coming night caught a deeper, darker shade from
the advancing storm, the party sat down to their evening meal.
It is a wise provision of nature that while a man is in bodily
health he will eat. Sickness may abate the appetite, but im-
minent peril, or the near approach of certain death, does not.
The forlorn wretch whose feet are almost upon the steps of the
scaffold, eats heartily in the very presence of the hangman.
The sailor in a sinking ship, with boats stove by the raging
sea, and the crags of an iron-bound coast grinning in his face,
takes his last meal unsparingly. The men under the shelter
of the poles and bark, beneath trees already groaning and
sighing, were not at all likely to neglect their fare. They ate
and cracked their jokes. Some told of storms they had for-
merly experienced in that region until the war of elements had
actually begun.
Meantime the black and ponderous sky, to the seeming
almost as solid as the earth itself, came towering on. Cloudy
mountains, like Alps on Alps, and Teneriffe on lofty Andes
piled, bearing the red pennons of the forked lightning, and the
chariots of the thunder ! Before the storm really began there
was darkness for a few minutes. Then lightning split the
black arch that hung like a pall over the troubled earth ; the
thunder crashed and rolled away to the eastward ; torrents of
rain came beating down ; and the fierce winds rushed in to
complete the uproar. Half the night the tempest raged.
Towards the last, by the flashes of the spent lightning, beasts
of chase, elk or deer, might be seen mingled with the mules
of the travellers.
122 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
CHAPTER XIV.
" Upon the banks where panthers steal along,
And the dread Indian chants a dismal song,
Where human fiends on midnight errands walk,
And bathe in brains the murderous tomahawk,
There shall the flocks on thymy pastures stray.
And shepherds dance at Summer's opening day."
ON the raorniDg after the storm the sky was clear to the
westward, but iu the East masses of black-blue cloud
hung about, as if threateuiug to return and renew the wild
tumult of the night. Most of those iu the camp slept soundly
towards the morning hours, lulled as it seemed by the low
rumble of the then distant thunder. The French hunters
were more wakeful. They arose at dawn, renewed the fire,
lit their pipes, and made a pot of coffee, the fragrant and
favorite beverage of the frontier. Having partaken of this,
the Frenchmen woke the negroes, then took their rifles and
went upon a little scout. Not far from the camp they came
upon the tracks of elk ; whereupon Franyois, the elder of the
two, told his companion to beat through the underbrush of
the swale along the banks of the creek running from a spring
beneath the ridge, while he would mount the ridge towards
the prairie, and lie in wait for a shot at any animal which
might pass. The elk, however, had gone on through the
wooded valley to the higher hills which lay to the southeast
of it, and Francois waited in vain. After some time he passed
down the declivity up which the wagons had been forced the
previous evening, and, looking out upon the prairie, suddenly
drew back to the edge of the cover and crouched down among
the stunted bushes. He was motionless and silent, but his
quick and searching glances swept the swells of the prairie
far and near, and he looked keenly along the broken outline
and ragged scrub of the ridge. He laid down with his ear
near the ground, and listened intently, but heard no sound
save the rustle of the mules l)ehind him. A low, peculiar
call, like the plaintive cry of some wild animal, brought Jules
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 123
to his side in a few minutes. Franyois, with a gesture, indi-
cated the necessity for silence. He then pointed to the prairie,
and exchanged a few words with Jules. Thereupon the latter
moved with the crouching action and silent, stealthy step of a
panther, along the ridge towards the south, while Franyois
advanced with like craft and caution in the opposite direction.
About-an hour elapsed before the two men met again at the point
from which they started. Their search had been ineffectual, and
Franyois, stooping low, went swiftly out upon the prairie for a
short distance. He soon returned, and then they went down
to the camp. When they reached it the other men had fed
the horses and mules, and got their own breakfasts.
Sassafras was seated on a bale of fodder, smoking and pon-
dering.
"Any game about?" said he
" We came upon the tracks of elk," said Fran9ois, " but
found that they had gone off to the higher hills. I think
they left as soon as the storm abated."
"And no wonder, mon Dieu !" said Jules; "for there have
been other visitors about since we went into camp. Sassafras,
there are moccasin prints about the ridge, and a band of In-
dians dismounted upon the prairie last night."
At this relation Sassafras exhibited no alarm, and scarcely
any surprise. The Frenchmen, too, went at their breakfast in
a very matter-of-fact sort of way. The former watched the
smoke as it curled upwards from his pipe, as if waiting for
the guides to satisfy their appetites before questioning them
further. He, however, ordered the negroes to load the wagons,
and then said to the Frenchmen :
" Boys, we are no more alone. We must have been watched
yesterday for many a mile, as nobody could follow our trail
after the storm fairly loomed up. Either the Indians were
close upon us before the storm broke, or knew where to find
us when it was over."
Fran5ois and Jules looked up as though about to speak, but
one appeared to wait for the other, and both remained silent.
Sassafras then added :
" This is what I propose : we w'ill be in no hurry to move
until we have tried to find out something about these new-
comers. What say you, Fran9ois ?"
124 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
" I say the plau is good, so far as it goes," replied Fran wis ;
" but, Sassafras, we shall hardly learu mueh about this party
\vhile we stay here. This much I can tell already — the baud
is small. There are six Indians and six horses, no more. They
did not come to the ridge until after the rain had fallen ; the
tracks showed it. When they dismounted and climbed the
ridge, they walked wide, and some of them slipped." •
" Which shows that they are Indians of the plains, and
almost always on horseback," said Sassafras, quietly. " But
if there were but six here, they know where to find six more —
eh, Jules ? But which way do you think they have gone ?"
" It is not easy to say," replied Francois. " They set off to
the north of west, and the tracks show that they galloped fast.
But they may have doubled back, for all we know, and be
behind the ridge to the south and east of us."
" I hardly think they have done so," said Sassafras. " The
Indians of the plains like to keep on the backs of their horses,
and being but a small party, they would not be likely to leave
the prairie for the hills and the timber. Besides, they may
be a part of Cinnamon's baud upon the scout to meet us."
" Is it not too soon for their arrival ?" said Jules. " The
South Fork of the Solomon is a long way off"."
" I know ib," returned Sassafras, " and did not expect to
see or hear anything of him and his men so soon. Still, the
Indians travel fast and far, and Cinnamon is not the man to
loiter by the way when a friend calls for him."
"Ay, but Indians must eat though, and so must their
horses," remarked Franyois. " It may be that the chief got
your message a long way east of his usual hunting-grounds.
News travels fast over the plains, when it is of a party bear-
ing presents and going to have a talk."
" But as Cinnamon is a chief, if he heard of coming pres-
ents and a talk, would he not stay to get his share?" said Tom
Scarlet.
" The question is well put," replied Sassafras ; " but I do
not think he would, after my message was carried to him.
Cinnamon is a young and active chief, more renowned for
hunts, forages and marches than for council with the whites.
The talks are mostly left to the elder men ; and as for the
presents, the share of himself and the braves of his band
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 125
would be kept for them. I have good reason to know that
he will be here soon, if he is not already in the neighborhood,
and I think these men may belong to his band. But they
may be none of his and we must move warily. Whatever
the Indians may be, who were here last night, and who are
certainly not far off this morning, they know our strength.
They are aware that no six or sixteen, for that matter, can
make a raid on us with impunity. We are eight, three of us
tried frontier men. AYe have the best of arms and the In-
dians know it. And though they may not belong to Cinna-
mon's band themselves, they will be apt to know that the
red riders of the Horse-head from the Forks of the Solomon
have come far east on the plains. This little party will not
attack."
" They may know where to find a bigger one," said Jules.
" What does ' red riders of the Horse-head' mean ?" said
Tom Scarlet to Franyois.
" It means the Cheyennes. Their totem is a horse-head ;
and unless I'm mistaken, Sassafras carries it of right, as one
of the tribe."
Sassafras looked at his pistols and examined the lock of his
rifle, a heavy weapon of soft metal, with the Kentucky gain-
ing twist. The guides finished their meal, and by this time
the wagons were loaded.
" Hitch up, boys," said the leader to the negroes. " Fran-
cois, Jules, I have settled in my own head upon our plan of
action. If you have any objection to make when you hear it,
speak your minds. Jules shall take charge of the train,
snake the wagons along the ridge to the nearest place to the west
of this, and then cut across the bend of the prairie towards the
southwest bluff", which is visible from the top of the ridge
above us. You and I, Fraugois and Tom, will make our way
on horseback iuside the ridges and hills and round the bight
of the bend out of sight. Before Jules gets to the bluff" we
shall know a little more about our neighbors than we do now,
unless they have gone right off" towards the west, which is not
at all likelv. They are within eyeshot from a tall tree, no
doubt."
"The plan is good," said the guides.
" Ay, I think it'll do ! Jules, if you reach within half a
126 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
mile of the bluff without seeiug or hearing of us, halt there,"
said Sassafras.
" The train will be so weak that the Indians may make a
rush and carry off the race-horses," said Tom Scarlet.
" To some, if they knew the quality of Virginia and the
Young Chief, the temptation would hardly be resistible," re-
plied Sassafras. " But these Indians number but six. They'll
know there are rifles in the train, of long range and true,
especially when fired from the rest of a wagon rail by a man
stretched upon his breast. Besides they'll know that the three
horsemen out of sight are scouting them, and ready to come
in unawares. Come ! we three shall have far to go, and there
will be no riding fast upon this route. Boys, take care of the
racers."
With this he mounted his horse, and followed by Tom Scar-
let and Francois, rode away into the timber and underbrush
of the bottom, and crossed the creek which meandered along it.
The ridge of hills which ran out to the bluff spoken of as
its westernmost elevation, swept round in the section of a cir-
cle, so that the teams upon the prairie would travel by a
straight and comparatively short line, while Sassafras and his
party would go round the bend. This he deemed necessary in
order to be able to survey the plain unseen from time to time,
and to reach the bluff unknown to the Indian baud, which, be-
yond all doubt, was prowling in the neighborhood. This route
w^as impracticable to the wagons, and therefore the separation
was made. Threading his way among such obstacles as ra-
vines, fallen timber, and the thickest growths of vines and
brambles, Sassafras led Frauyois and Tom Scarlet along the
rough and devious route. At intervals, when they were upon
the high ground, they could see the wagons with their teams
and drivers, following the lead of Jules, upon the prairie. No
Indians appeared, nor could Sassafras detect any signs by
which it might be inferred that they had approached the ridge
at any other place than the one above the last night's camp.
He knew their stealthy character so well, however, that he and
Frau9ois remitted no vigilance, and watched warily as they
made progress over the rough and woody ground. The sun
was n-ow lofty and triumphant in the heavens, like a monarch
who has subdued and driven away the legions of a formidable
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 127
rebellion. The effects of the storm were seen, however, in the
branches strewn upon the soil, and here and there in the trunk
and top of a large tree, which, loaded with wet, and stricken
by the furious assault of the wind, had come down with a sough
and a mighty crash. It was high noon, and upon the banks of
a swollen creek in a grassy bottom the party halted to bait
and water their horses. When they remounted they ascended
the ridge and saw the teams slowly moving across the prairie
at the distance of four or five miles. Nothing was discovered
of the Indians. Two or three miles further was travelled in
solitude and silence, for neither beast, bird nor man appeared.
Then Sassafras dismounted and again ascended the ridge.
Upon its crest he laid down his rifle, and climbed the tallest
tree he could find. From amongst its topmost boughs the
frontier man, with an eye trained for ranging over a great
space, like that of a sailor who sees the far-off land while it is
still invisible to his passengers, and nothing but sea and sky
appear to their untaught vision, surveyed the country for
many miles around. For a time he made no discovery. At
leugth, however, his roving gaze was fixed upon the southwest,
beyond the western bluff', and upon the prairie. Swinging
himself from bough to branch, and from branch to lower arm,
he slid down the trunk, rejoined his companions, mounted his
horse, and led the way.
"Any signs of the Indians?" said Francois.
"Yes, but they are at a smart distance and in ambush,"
replied Sassafras. " They have made their horses lie down in
a hollow, and are watching the train as it moves towards
them."
"Indians of the West?" said Francois.
"Ay, no doubt of it, for they keep on the prairie, and use
what little cover it affords with much craft and skill. They
forget, however, that where trees grow a tree can be clomb,"
replied Sassafras ; and then he hummed :
" 0. the oak and the ash and the bonny hiek'ry tree,
They do all flourish best in the "West country."
" Do you think them part of Cinnamon's band ?" said Fran-
9ois, anxiously.
" I think it probable they are," returned Sassafras ; " but I
128 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N.
shall be more able to judge when we reach the head of the
bluff. They lie iu a buuch to the sou 'west of it, and within a
couple of miles. From a tree-top on it I shall be able to look
down upon their cache and make them out."
" It would seem from their lying in wait, near the route of
the train, that they mean to attack, and are none of Cinna-
mon's men," said Tom Scarlet.
" Not so," replied Sassafras. " If they intended to raid upon
the wagons they would lie behind the knoll and pretty close
to it, so as to come out with a sudden rush and a yell, and
close before the rifles could be brought to bear. As it is, they
would have to ride about a couple of miles in plain sight
before they could strike a blow."
" That's it," said Fran9ois ; " they are only scouting."
" Only scouting," repeated Sassafras. " They are now ob-
serving the train, believing that it belongs to friends of their
chief. They do this in Indian fashion, wary-like, and ready
to go off without parley, and without letting us know what they
are and what they came for, if they conclude that we are not
the men. Besides, they go upon the certainty, that while they
are watching the wagons they may be watched themselves by
another band. Then, again, they know that three horsemen
who were with the wagons yesterday are with them no longer.
They want to account for that before they come near and
show themselves. I reckon they expect us to be doing just
about what we are doing, and think that we shall appear
upon the route before another camp is made."
"That is it," said Fran9ois. "They lie hidden, as they
think, out on the prairie, because they are uncertain where we
shall debouch."
No more was said, but the pace was increased so far as the
nature of the bushy, broken ground would allow. Still the
progress was slow, so that the sun was sinking towards the
west, like a great orb of red gold in the deep azure sky, when
they reached the west knoll and dismounted. Standing upon
his horse's croup. Sassafras gra.«ped a branch of a tree above
his head, and swung himself upon it. Climbing to a lofty fork,
his lookout commanded the prairie for a vast distance, all lit
up and mellowed by the beams of the sinking sun. The
"wagons were halted half a mile north and east of the bluff
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 129
on which he was. The Indians yet lay close in the hollow
way, and made no move. It seemed that they still thought
themselves unobserved, and were yet uncertain whether to
advance or retreat. The frontier man looked long and fixedly,
but at length descended to the ground and rejoined his anxious
companions.
" Well," said Tom Scarlet, " what do you make out ?"
" Some of Cinnamon's young men," said Sassafras, confi-
dently. " You two wait here while I ride out to where they
are, and have a talk."
" May it not be dangerous ?" said Tom Scarlet. " I see not
how you can be certain of their character and tribe from a
mere glance at a group of men and horses lying dovrn two
miles oflf."
Sassafras and the Frenchman laughed.
" Well, now," said the former, " it seemed as certain to me
that these Indians were part of Cinnamon's band as it would
if I had seen the chief, armed and mounted, at the head of
them. But then I w^as the ' man up a tree.' However, you
remain here. Ten minutes will settle the business." With this
he mounted and rode down the western slope of the bluff.
"I cannot understand it," said Tom Scarlet to the guide.
The latter had seated himself snugly in his saddle, had filled
his pipe with much deliberation, struck fire from knife and
flint, caught the spark with well-dried punk, and was now
pufiiug away with much content.
" I say, Francois, I cannot understand it," repeated Mr.
Scarlet, with some perplexity.
" Very likely not ; I couldn't myself once, but that was
long ago. I can now," replied Franyois.
" And you say that, partially seen, the character of Indians
could be made out two miles off?"
" Yes, four miles off, by Sassafras, when he is well acquent
with the tribe they belong to," said Frangois, positively.
Sassafi-as had now reached the prairie. Tom Scarlet and
Fran9ois saw him canter off towards the Indians. As soon as
they perceived his approach the braves rose to their feet, got
up their horses and mounted them. Then one rode forward
to meet the white man, each carrying his rifle across his
horse's withers. They met. Some words and signs were
130 THE WHITE EORSE OF WOOTTOK
exchanged. The Indian pointed with his gun towards wooded
heights lying away in the southeast and dim in the distance.
The savage then returned to his silent band, and the six rode
rapidly away. Skirting the blufi' and making a signal to
Scarlet and Fran9ois, Sassafras rode towards Jules and the
wagons. Half an hour later the camp was formed and supper
eaten. Afterwards, by the camp-fire, Sassafras informed his
friends that the Cheyenne chief was near at hand with a band
of hunters and braves.
This intelligence was received by the Frenchmen without
emotion, but the negroes appeared to be excited and disturbed.
A sort of natural antipathy existed between the red and black
races, such as is found between the domesticated dog and the
wolf. The Indians, hunters and warriors almost from the
cradle, disdaining steady work, barbarian in all their tastes,
and without knowledge of any of the arts of civilized life,
looked down upon the blacks as a people made by the Creator
expressly for labor and bondage. The blacks, while secretly
holding the Indians in contempt, as ignorant savages, good
for nothing but to be scalped, yet feared and hated them, as
their ancestors on the banks of the Niger feared and hated
the lion of the great woods and the crocodile of the reedy mud-
banks. But the certain intelligence that the band of Indians
from the western side of the plains and the spurs of the Rocky
Mountains had arrived, wrought most efiect upon the young
Englishman. In all probability, he had never seen an Indian
before that day. A fellow had, indeed, been exhibited at a
country fair, in company with a giant and a dwarf, as an In-
dian. He ate raw beef and performed strange antics; but
some thought that though he might be savage enough for any-
thing, he never came Irom the tribes of North America. This
was afterwards confirmed by the worthy landlord of the Seven
Bells. He declared that, going to his back door in answer to
a summons late at night, he there found the proprietor of the
caravan and the Indian ; when the latter swore at the show-
man in round English, with a rich brogue, and drank the
greater part of three pots of beer with exceeding relish.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON, 131
CHAPTEK XV.
" Loud rush the torrent floods
The Western wilds among,
And free, in green Cohimbia's woods,
The hunter's bow is strung."
TNSTEAD of proceeding to join his Indian friends and
-L allies in the morning, as Tom Scarlet and perhaps the
Frenchmen expected he would do, Sassafras remained in camp
all day, chiefly devoting himself to the exercise, grooming and
feeding of the gray mare Virginia, and the bay horse, the
Young Chief. The negroes slept for the most part. The
Frenchmen smoked much, and cleaned their guns and pistols.
The Englishman walked uneasily about, with a dejected air.
The region in which he now was seemed even more wild and
threatening than the melancholy expanse of the great prairies
itself The hills were rocky, broken and uncouth, and to the
southeast were dominated by higher hills, where huge preci-
pices might be perceived, frowning over chasms which broke
the forest with which the hills were mainly clothed. At that
day those parts were seldom visited by white men. The passes
in the mountains were known to but few, and these were
mostly adventurers of the stamp of Sassafras and his French
companions. Time has changed all that. This region has
become common enough, like other tracts which were savage
and remote two score years ago. Commerce, the pursuit of
mining, and the desire of exploration penetrate everywhere,
and when foiled return again and again.
"The Hyrcanian deserts, and the vasty wilds
Of wide Arabia, are but as thoroughfares now !"
In the evening Sassafras left his camp in the charge of
Jules, and set out with Tom Scarlet and Francois upon a pro-
jected expedition. Perhaps he had thought it best to appear
in no hurry ; perhaps he knew that he would not be expected
at the Indian camp until night had set in. However this
may be, the sun had set when he mounted his horse and rode
132 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
briskly away to the southeast. The moon had just risen over
the eastern highlands when they turned towards the wooded
slope, and rode cautiously up it. The night was still and
calm, the air and earth fresh from the recent rain. As they
reached the highest point of the ridge, and the glimmer of
fires, in a sheltered, grassy bottom below, was visible through
the brush, the figure of an Indian rose from the grass. He
appeared so silently and suddenly that Tom Scarlet uttered a
startled exclamation. The man was naked to the waist, for
the blanket belted around him had fallen from his shoulders,
and he held a rifle in his hand. He spoke a few words in an
Indian tongue, with a sign to Sassafras to follow him a little
apart. He was tall, straight and well-built, but not stout.
The shade of his complexion could not be determined by that
uncertain light, but it was dark even for a native of the west-
ern wilds ; in fact, its hue was a rich brown, befitting one who
lived, like the eagle, "close to the sun, in lonely lands." His
manner was grave and collected, and he was, indeed. Cinna-
mon, a young but famous chief, renowned from the Rocky
Mountains to the settlements of the whites for his success in
hunting and his exploits in war.
After a short conversation between him and Sassafras, they
returned to the others, and the chief bade Tom Scarlet wel-
come in a few words of broken English. He seemed to speak
it with difficulty and unwillingly, for he addressed the French-
man in the Indian tongue. Cinnamon then led the way
towards the camp of his people, who were soon seen sitting
and reclining round the fires in the valley below. The wild
appearance of the Indians, seen by the red glare of blazing
logs and brush, with their picketed horses and rude tents, mere
blankets and skins on sticks, was strange and striking to the
Englishman. Sassafras and Francois had no doubt seen the
like of it many times before, for they followed the chief down
into the valley without pause or remark. Cinnamon passed
on to the fire in front of his own scanty tent, around which
was a group of his young men. The Indians appeared to
know Sassafras well, for they came up one after the other and
greeted him in a few words, their gaze being meanwhile fixed
upon the ornament of a horse's head, cunningly carved in red
stone, which he now wore upon his breast. The costume of
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 133
the Cheyeunes was sparse to a degree, consisting mainly of
moccasins and leggings, with here and there a scrap of blanket.
But if their wardrobe was scanty, there was no lack of rude
ornament among Cinnamon's men ; and the glare of the fire
showed a profusion of paint upon their faces and bodies.
Their heads were uncovered save by their shaggy black hair,
with which were intermixed the plumes of eagles, hawks and
perhaps other birds of prey. One figure there was whose out-
fit presented a striking contrast to those of the chief and his
men. It was that of a youth of perhaps seventeen years old.
His form was handsome, and his features may have been good,
but they were obscured by much paint. He wore scarlet leg-
gings, with a sort of tunic of the same color, belted at the
waist. A white blanket, trimmed with scarlet, lay across his
shoulder in the manner of a Highland plaid. Braid and
trinkets were plentifully disposed over his apparel ; his hair
was plaited, twisted round the top of his head, like a coronet,
and bedecked with eagles' plumes. Upon this boy the gaze
of Sassafras was soon fixed. The lad returned it with a
haughty air, and then seemed to be wholly interested with
the appearance of Tom Scarlet. He stood aloof. At the
earliest opportunity. Sassafras addressed the chief.
" Cinnamon," said he, in a low voice, " you have a stranger
in the band — one of another tribe. Who and what is he that
my friend has brought here?"
" Indian from the southwest. Young Kiowa, son of a great
chief I have sometimes hunted with," replied the Cheyenne.
Then seeing that Sassafras was hardly content, he added :
" Brought here from down the great river by my brother.
I will answer for the boy."
" Very good," said Sassafras. " And so your brother has
come up from his plantation, has he ?"
" He has," replied the Indian.
Cinnamon's brother was, in fact, an elder half-brother, being
a son of his mother and a wealthy French trader. He was
settled on a plantation near the mouth of the Arkansas river,
but sometimes made trips to its upper waters, where, as Sassa-
fras knew, he might often meet roving bands of the great pred-
atory tribes of the southwest branches of the Arkansas, the
Kiowas and the Comanches. This brother of the chief, being
134 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
a man of substance, liberality and enterprise, as well as of
part Indian blood, had reputation and influence with many
bands and tribes. A conversation, weighty in matter, but com-
paratively brief, eusued between Sassafras and Cinnamon, at
the close of which the former rejoined Tom Bcarlet and
Frau9ois. The wary Western man threw a keen glance around
before he recited to Tom Scarlet in English what had passed
between himself and the chief. A discussion followed, in
which Sassafras became earnest, and enforced his view of the
case with a louder voice and much force. When he finished
and looked up, he was surprised to find the painted Kiowa
near at hand. He seemed, however, to be lost in revery,
thinking of things and scenes far away, for his piercing eye
appeared to look beyond the fires and tents and figures of the
camp, and to penetrate the darkness which hung heavy on the
hills and woods around. And yet Sassafras was not altogether
satisfied. As he threw himself upon a pile of brush, pipe in
mouth, and weighty thought in brain, he muttered :
" Cinnamon will answer for the boy. Cinnamon is good, but
the boy is none of his tribe, and has been with him but a few
days. Safe bind, safe find ! Fran§ois shall watch him !"
Almost worn out by the fatigue of the last sleepless night,
and by the anxiety of the day just past, the Englishman, in
spite of the novelty of his situation, soon slumbered heavily by
the side of the Western man. When he was fast asleep the
latter drew a blanket carefully over him, and sat some time in
thought. He then aroused Franyois, and led him to the verge
of the valley, where they sat down on an old log. The camp
was nearly still, the moonlight mingling its white rays with
the fitful, dying glare of the fading fires. An Indian, how-
ever, might now and then be seen stalking out of the shade
of a pile of brush or a clump of bushes, and getting a brand
to light his pipe. The horses had eaten their fill of the fresh
grass of the valley, and lay here and there all around the
camp. At times the hoot of the owl was heard from the timber
of the hill above, and the long howl of the wolf resounded
from the ravines. The Frenchman filled his pipe with much
deliberation, and having lighted it, signified by an inclination
of his head that he was ready to hear what Sassafras might
have to communicate. The latter, looking around cautiously,
spoke in a low voice.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 135
« Fran9ois, there is a boy in there," pointing to the tent of
the chief, " for whose presence here I can't account. You, no
doubt, saw him when we first arrived, if not since."
" I did, and I cannot make him out any better than your-
self," replied the Frenchman. " I asked one of the Cheyennes
if he was of their tribe. He said no, but partly of their blood,
being a son of Cinnamon's half-brother, Pierre Langlois.
Pierre is now at the trading post, and having brought up his
son from below, has suffered him to join his uncle in camp
here."
" That cock cannot fight in this main," said Sassafras,
quickly. " The story don't agree at all with what Cinnamon
told me two hours ago. He says that lad is the son of a chief
of the Kiowas, intrusted to Pierre Langlois by his father, when
he was up in the mountains near the head-waters of the
Arkansas, over towards the Spanish line."
" It may be so and the Indian not know it," said Franyois.
" Devil a bit !" said Sassafras. " If the boy was a Kiowa
every ludian in this camp would know it. You've seen Kiowas
— did you ever see one painted like this boy?"
« I have seen their warriors — this lad is none."
" Ay, but he's of age to be a warrior," returned Sassafras.
« Besides, though he looks a little like a dandy Indian, he
don't walk like an Indian ; and his blanket and other fixings
ain't a month okl, instead of being five or six."
" Sassafras, we have always said that you were the keenest
man on the frontier, and you are," said Frangois, " but I think
you take too much note of this lad."
"It may be so," replied Sassafras, "but I tell you I have
got no use for that boy here until I know more about him."
" And this may make trouble, as he is with Cinnamon him-
self," said Francois. "You don't doubt the chief?"
" Surely not, for I wear this, won by his side in a hard-
fought tussle with the Sioux," said Sassafras, laying his hand
on the ornament which hung upon his breast. " But you see
this stripling is really as little knpwn to Cinnamon as he is to
you and me. The chief may be imposed upon. Pierre Lang-
lois brings the boy here from a quarter whence I expect an
enemy, and he is a neighbor of Staples,"
" Yes, but hates him worse than he hates a snake — I know
it well," said Francois.
136 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
" For the matter of that, everybody hates him that ever had
anything to do with him," said Sassafras ; " but he manages
to get many to go in with him for all that. But no matter !
I spoke to this bedizened boy in as good Indian as I could
muster for the occasion, and no answer did I get."
'' Well, he may not understand Cheyenne," said Fran9ois.
" Then I want to know how he understands Cinnamon, who
can speak but precious little else, though he can understand
my English," remarked Sassafras, with a little impatience.
" There's some difference between Cinnamon's Cheyenne and
yours," said Franyois, with a smile. " Of all the people that
have to do with the Indians, you and the English speak their
tongues the worst. Kow, we French and the Spanish of Mexico
soon learn to speak them well. That is, well for white men."
" You may speak them as w^ell as you like, but d — n me if I
think you can make this boy understand Indian of any sort.
What do you say to that, now ?" said Sassafras, with some
heat.
" I don't know. To-morrow I'll try him with French, and
with as good Kiowa and Comanche as I can command. If
those fail, I'll at him in Spanish ; for I'll bet a horn of powder
he's Spanish if he's no Indian. His eyes and his hair show
it, as well as the small size of his hands and feet."
" Do so, Fran9ois ; and watch him narrowly, without letting
him know that you are doing so. You can stay here on some
pretence, when I have gone back to our camp. AVe shall not
move to the post for some days. I must give Virginia and
the Young Chief work — sharp w^ork."
" Good ! the boy will be more off his guard, if he is now on
it, when you have left the band again," said Frangois. " If
I can find out nothing from him, we must wait until we see
Pierre. Pierre is a talkative as well as a prosperous man, and
by getting him to drink three or four times I can learn almost
all he knows." After a pause of a minute or so he added :
" But as you know the chief to be true, why trouble yourself
about this youngster? What can the boy do ?"
" Why, no harm that I can see, just at present," replied
Sassafras ; " but the minute I laid eyes upon this gay bird it
struck me that he was not what he seemed. When I find a
blind at the beginning of a trail, I am never satisfied until I
know what is at the other end."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 137
" There's wisdom in that, and ^Ye will try to find out," re-
turned Frau9ois.
" One thing made me more suspicious than almost all that
I have mentioned," said Sassafras, earnestly. " I noticed that
when we came into camp to-night with Cinnamon, this boy
looked straight at Tom Scarlet and gave you and me but just
a glance. Now, I say that's not natural, if the boy is Indian,
or even half or quarter blood, through Pierre Langlois.
Would a young Kiowa, from the plains and mountains of the
Southwest, take more note of a green Englishman than of
men like you and me, Fran9ois ?"
" Hardly ! though the Englishman is a fine-looking young
man, a very fine-looking young man," replied Francois.
" I grant it — much better looking than you or I, so far as
mere form and features go," said Sassafras ; " but don't you
see, he has none of the air and carriage of the West — of men
who have hunted many a year, and fought in many a scrim-
mage — and I tell you that's what would have fixed the eye of
this youngster, if he had been the son of a chief of the war-
like Kiowas."
The Frenchman silently assented to this by an inclination
of his head, and Sassafras went on :
" As for our mate from the island over the sea, he needs
vigilant as well as staunch friends here. Good man, brave
and true, he is no doubt in his own country ; but here, Fran-
9ois, he is little more than a baby — no experience, you see —
and a self-willed and obstinate baby at that. Why, he sticks
out for honesty and what he calls fair play, and what not, in
our dealings with the men we must circumvent. As if hon-
esty was of any use against Staples, three or four hundred
miles west of the Mississippi river !"
The Frenchman nodded acquiescence once more, and Sassa-
fras went on :
" If there was no one but you and Jules and me concerned,
it would be different, and I should be less alert, knowing we
could hold our own, whatever might turn up trumps. I never
told you before the exact state of affairs. It is this : The man
who stole the best horse in England, or one about as good as
any, and a lot of money, from Tom Scarlet, will be at the post
with Staples. My business is to make him fork over, one way
or another. Do you see?"
138 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
" I see well enough — go on," said Fran9ois.
" The fellow ran away with a lot of money belonging to
other people, too ; but that don't concern us," said Sassafras.
He then continued, speaking very earnestly: "I met this
young fellow, Tom, at Baltimore, as soon as he landed, and
struck hands with hira. I have brought him all this way
west, and I'm bound to stick to him, come what may. ' He's
here in double trust,' as Macbeth says of Duncan ; for he has
confided in me, and I like the man himself, Franyois ; while
his talks of the girl he left behind him have made me like her,
too. I swear I'm almost in love with her myself"
" And good reason," said the Frenchman. " I, too, have
heard him talk of her, and, my faith ! it reminded me of the
little girl I was to marry tw^enty years ago, when we used to
dance under the trees on the bank of the big river, half
through the summer nights. But Louise died in her spring
time, you see."
" Well, my true and trusty friend, remember to look close
after that boy. Find out something about him somehow, and
then ride straight over to our own camp. Now, we'll lie down
and sleep, as well here as anywhere about, for the night is
warm."
Midnight was some time past, and the dark, dead hour had
come which precedes the first faint tinge of dawn. The camp
was as still as though no living thing was in it. No breeze
sighed among the branches of the lofty trees, and the moon
had gone down over the vast silent prairie to the west, leaving
the valley to the little light afforded by wasted brands of the
waning fires among their own ashes. It was the time of
night —
** When the graves, all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his sprite,
In the churchway paths to glide ;
And the fairies, that do run.
By the triple Hecate's team,
From the presence of the sun,
Follow darkness like a dream."
The deep, solemn sleep, so like pale death itself, into which
Tom Scarlet had first fallen, was now changed into uneasy
slumbers and swift-changing dreams. His home across the
Atlantic, the scenes of his boyhood, the favorite haunts of her
he loved, and many incidents of his life, long forgotten, flew
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 139
through the chambers of the brain, faster than the sunbeam
which chases night's black shadow round the revolving world.
More uneasy the sleeper grew, for the sombre shadow of his
brother's death, jand the white face, upturned to the pale blue
wintry sky, were again before him. Again he felt the stun-
ning horrors of the gale which smote the brig, and almost
overwhelmed her in the waves of the Atlantic. The fierce
hissing scream of the wind ; the thunder-clap of the topsail,
when its chain-sheets parted and flew loose aloft ; the calls of
the captain and mate ; the hoarse cries of the sailors ; and
the tumult of the raging waters, rang in his ears again. Then
the noises subsided into the merry echoes of the village feast
at eventide, and the rustle of summer winds among the haw-
thorn and the gorse. And then came music, to a soft air, and
low, as of the hum of honey-bees about the fresh June flowers.
After a space this was shaped into words, and the man, in the
mysterious debatable land which lies between dead sleep and
wakefulness, heard the following, like a faint but distinct and
clear echo :
High the hawks fly in the dappled sky,
And over the blackthorn stream
The partridge knows, while swift she goes,
They float on the morning beam.
A maiden bright, at their foremost flight,
Says, " Well ! ah, well-a-day !"
The Scarlet and Gold, so lithe and bold.
Is over the seas away !
Early and late, near the garden gate.
The linnets sing love's song ;
The sparrows hatch in the old barn thatch,
And the ploughmen plod along;
And at morn and night the maid so bright
Says, " Well ! ah, well-a-day \"
The Scarlet and Gold, so lithe and bold.
Is over the seas away !
There's a yeoman tried at Hawk' ell side
In all the tales they tell,
And the hunting mare is grazing there,
In the paddock by the well.
The throstle's note, from his golden throat,
And the blackbirds seem to say,
The Scarlet and Gold, so lithe and bold,
Is over the seas away !
The hawks fly, too, and the wolves pursue
Where the wild buck leaps for life —
! the beak and claw of the border law
Are the tomahawk and knife.
140 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
Will the maid once gay e'er see the day
When the sun shall clear the wrack?
Will the Scarlet and Gold, so lithe and bold,
O'er the racing seas go back?
From first to last, while this strange chaunt was going on,
the young man lay like one in a trance. Conscious he was,
but partly unable aiKl partly unwilling to stir and break the
spell of the voice. When the song was finished he lay for the
space of a minute. Then he rose and looked about him with
a bewildered air. No one was in sight. He felt for Sassafras ;
but the Western man had long left that couch, and was now
fast asleep with Francois upon the outer verge of the camp.
" This is like witchery," said Tom. " I must have been awake
— somebody must have sung. It can't be Sassafras, for his
voice is not so tuneful. It can't have been an Indian, for no
Indian could master the words, to say nothing of the harmony.
Can it have been Fran9ois ? I'll tax him with it in the
morning."
Morning was now near. The sky was steel-gray in the
eastern board, and soon one after another of the horses rose
and shook his lariat. Tom Scarlet had no opportunity of
speaking to Francois, for when the time came for the white
men to return to their own camp the Frenchman was not to
be found. An Indian briefly stated that he had gone, with
two of the young men, to hunt the elk, which were to be found
in the neighboring hills. Sassafras remarked that he could
not wait, and bidding farewell, for the present, to Cinnamon
and his braves, he and Tom Scarlet put boot in stirrup and
rode away. The young Kiowa was not to be seen.
CHAPTER XVI.
" Good people all, I pray give ear,
And a doleful story you shall hear;
'Tis of as stout a rogue as ever
Bade a true man stand and deliver.
ABOUT two weeks had elapsed since the meeting between
Sassafras and Cinnamon, and both had moved their camps
to the near vicinity of the trading-post. The interval had
been mainly spent by the former and Tom Scarlet in training
THE WRITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 141
Virginia and the Young Cliief for the races they expected.
The Indians had parsed their time in hunting excursions, and
in much eating and sleeping. Game was abundant. The
young men brought in elk and deer. Franyois and Jules shot
many turkeys. The former found no opportunity to sound
the young Kiowa, for when he returned from his first hunt
the youth had left Cinnamon, and the Frenchman was told
that he had returned to Pierre Langlois at the post. Nor was
he to be seen at that place when Sassafras reached it ; and
Cinnamon then said that he was gone on a hunt with some of
his young men. The Western man was too much occupied
with his horses and in settling the preliminaries of a race or
two with his old antagonist, Captain Staples, to make further
quest just then.
The trading-post alluded to was situated among the hills,
but on a flat prairie some two miles long and a mile and a
half wide. The hills were bold but not high, and bushy val-
leys ran up between them from the open ground. The grass
of the prairie was short, more like that of a meadow in the
valley of the Ohio than the coarse but nutritious buffalo grass
upon wdiich herds of bisons fed on the great plains further
west. Often camped upon, trampled, and fed off close, it had
lost much of its wild character, and become tame pasture.
This change had, perhaps, been aided by the mixture of other
grasses, from seed which had been scattered by such wayfarers
as Sassafras and Staples at their periodical visits. The main
structure was a square log-building, standing on the north side
of the prairie. It was of considerable extent, part being used
as a depot for the goods of the company who were the nomi-
nal owners of the land, and part for the residence of their
factor and his men. On each side of it, at the distance of a
few rods, there were shanties of slight poles, roofed with bark ;
while in some of the valleys between the hills, rude log-houses
had been built at some time, which could be hastily repaired.
The prairie sloped very gradually inward to a slough or
pond, in which there was nearly always tolerable water. It
was fringed with low bushes of cottonwood and alder, and the
surface of the water was overgrown with lilies then in flower.
A rude sort of race-course, called a mile, but probably more,
for the vast ranges of the Western country belittled measured
142 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
spaces in the eyes of the adventurers who had laid it out,
and now resorted to it, ran around the pond. It had once
been ploughed up and harrowed by the men of the post, who,
cultivating a few acres of corn and potatoes, had the imple-
ments of simple husbandry ; but it was now overgrown with
short grass, very good to gallop over. At the foot of the hills,
in various places, small bands of Indians were encamped. In
some of the shanties near the main building there were a few
W'hite men, with blood-like horses and negroes. The traders
had done a good business with the Indians, considering the
rate of profit, buying buffalo robes, skins and furs for next to
nothing, in whiskey, powder, lead and blankets. The Chey-
ennes of Cinnamon's band had bartered away in this manner
the furs and skins they had brought on the backs of their
horses. For two or three days there was high revelry, and
some danger of an outbreak and resort to arms between them
and some of the other bands. But it was prevented by the
vigilance of their chief. Cinnamon had pitched his camp in
the bight of a narrow valley, between two of the largest hills
on the south side. Further on it opened out and became the
bottom lands of a creek, one of the head-waters of the Neosho,
which is itself, in turn, one of the almost innumerable streams
which contribute to the volume of the Arkansas without ap-
parently increasing it. Such is the thirsty nature of the soil,
and so great the evaporation in summer time, that the river is
nearly as large five hundred miles from its mouth as it is
within sight of the Mississippi, into which it falls. In the
next little valley on the south side lay the camp of Sassafras;
but this was a mere branch of the prairie, running up into the
wooded hills, but not piercing them through. It had good
grass and fine water. A living spring, small but constant,
gushed out at the foot of a lofty rock near the head of it.
Pierre Langlois, a small partner in the trading company,
lodged in the post. The young Kiowa may have been there
also, but if so he kept very secluded, and made no visits to
Cinnamon's camp.
It was the evening of the fourth day after the arrival of
Sassafras at the post, and he sat at the entrance of his log-hut,
expecting a visitor. He had not long to wait after he had
sent the Frenchman and Tom Scarlet away, for the man soon
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 143
approached, and addressed him ^vith a familiar air. He mio;ht
be nearly sixty years old, and much weather-beaten, but plainly
very tough and vigorous for his years. He was not tall and
sparse, as most white men in that region were, but below the
middle height, with a broad, deep chest, and massive, round
shoulders. His dark hair was shaggy, and a little sprinkled
with gray. His eye was red and lowering, like that of a sulky
bull, and upon his face there were the scars of several wounds.
Such, in appearance, was the redoubtable Captain Staples, a
man of uncommon shrewdness and cunning ; bold and unscru-
pulous to the last degree. Subject to the laws of Arkansas
when within her boundaries, and to those of the Federal Gov-
ernment when to the westward, he had, to use his own expres-
sion, no use for either of them.
" For why ? The good old rule
SuflBced him; the simple plan
That they should take who had the power.
And they shall keep who can."
Sassafras preceded the captain into the shanty, and without
much ado they sat down facing each other, with a barrel be-
tween them, which served the purpose of a table. A stone jug,
and a tin cup, were soon put in requisition, and they each
took a drink of whiskey. Sassafras lighted his pipe, while the
captain renewed the enormous quid of negro-head tobacco,
which he had removed when he drank. With some people
Captain Staples enjoyed a reputation which was very rare in
the West and Southwest in those days. It was thought that
he drank no liquor. This was an error ; he drank none in
company, save when the latter was very select, but a great
deal in private. Why he had adopted such a rule nobody
knew. It could not be because he was afraid of being over-
reached in his dealings, if he drank in the rude society to
which he was accustomed, for liquor had no effect upon his
muscles and nerves, and abated none of his singular resolution
and craft. A town pump might have been made drunk as
soon as he. He was now, however, aware that by pretending
he never drank he should merely excite the disgust of Sassafras,
which might have interfered with the object he had in view.
Therefore, the worthy captain tossed off about a third of a pint
of whiskey, and praised the quality of the licjuor. The two
144 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
meu looked each other full in the eye for a few moments. The
captain then placed his hands squarely on his brawny thighs,
and said :
" Sassafras, we have been acquainted a long time ; I believe
we know each other pretty well."
" I shouldn't wonder if we do," returned Sassafras. " It
ain't beeu your fault, if I don't know you."
" No, it has not ! And yet I believe you don't know rae
through and through, Sassafras," said the captain, with much
complaisance. " The fact is," he added, " there have been at
times words between us, and perhaps hard feelings on your
part. Now, in spite of all that, I have always had the highest
opinion of you, and am the best friend you've got, from the
Missouri to the Red river. I think you didn't know this,"
concluded the captain, coolly.
" I'm d — d if I did, until you told me !" said Sassafras, pour-
ing out more liquor, and handing it to his best friend to drink
first.
" Well, you know it now. Here's to you. Sassafras," said
the captain, drinking with a relish. " Tlie last time we raced
against each other, I beat you stop ! hear me out ! Some-
thing was said at the time ; but if anything was done wrong,
it was without my knowledge and against my wish. That's
what it was. You've got the gray mare here now, and she'll
beat me."
" I don't intend to let her be dosed before she starts," said
Sassafras, bluntly.
The old man was unmoved. " That's right," said he. " It's
always well to look out. There's generally a lot of loafing
fellows and half-breeds hanging about these posts, and they'll
do anything for a few Mexican dollars and a jug of whiskey.
I see you've got the mare in good condition, and she's sure to
win."
" Well, you haven't come here a-purpose to tell me that ?"
said Sassafras. " Come, now ! Why did you ask me to send
my men away, and meet you here alone soon after sundown ?
It isn't your way to take much trouble for nothing, captain.'*
"It is not. You're quite right. Sassafras. I meant, by
coming, to do you some good. That ain't nothing."
" How much good, in regard to what good you mean to do
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 145
yourself?" said Sassafras, knocking the ashes out of his pipe
preparatory to filling it again. He probably thought that this
question would lead to an explanation from the captain, and
he was not wrong.
The fine old gentleman gave his quid a twist, and said :
" Sassafras, I've got a betting man up here with me, a gen-
tleman — an English gentleman — a man with plenty of know-
ledge and plenty of money. Now, this gentleman is inclined
to lay some of his money against your mare. He'll do so, if
I let him alone ; and 1, out of friendship for you, feel inclined
to let you win some of his sovereigns. In short, we could go
halves, you know."
" But why don't you let Keeps or Kirby lay against him for
you, and go it all yourself?" said Sassafras.
" It don't suit me to trust Keeps or Kirby," said the captain.
" Besides, they are greedy and unprincipled, and have a han-
kering after the gentleman's money themselves. You'd hardly
believe it, but it's been all I could do to prevent Kirby and
Keeps, especially Keeps, from cheating the gentleman at poker.
I declare to you that these fellows had a cold deck all ready,
and would have got his money out of him by downright cheatr
ing. That, you know, I could not stand."
" Of course not," returned Sassafras ; " the money is not for
them. They might as well undertake to rob you at once.
You have a large interest in this English gentleman."
" I think I have," said the captain. " I reckon it is a large
interest, present and contingent."
" And in order to make pretty sure of the contingent interest
you are willing to share the present interest with me. Ain't
that it ?"
" I don't think it is altogether," said the captain. " Of the
bets we win on the first race you shall have half. But after
that com.es the heft of the undertaking. Listen now, for I
mean real business. It won't do to cut deep at first for fear
of exciting the gentleman's suspicions. He's a very nice man
— fine specimen of what I've heard a good deal about in my
time, the English gentleman. But I can't say that I find him
quite perfect Sassafras, he's mistrustful of most people, and
I sometimes think that he suspects even me."
" O, the villain I" cried Sassafras. " What's his name, and
10
146 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
what brouglit him here, so far from the settlements ? Come,
tell us a little about the stranger."
" His name is Reginald Grosvernor," replied the captain,
with readiness and composure. " That's his private travelling
name."
" He's got two or three, has he ? Staples, I think you had
better begin to suspect Mm, and not make sure of your buck
while he's running in the woods."
" That's all right ! you leave that to me," replied the cap-
tain confidently, " This gentleman is a kind of lord, what
you call viscount, but has dropped the title for a time, which
is right and proper, being on a tour in this land of republican
liberty and free institutions, where titles "
" That'll do ! I've heard enough about that. You ain't on
the stump addressing the people down the river. Come to this
business. What brought this stranger to these parts ?"
"Friendship, and a desire to see the world," replied the
captain. " He was on his travels, and I brought him here,
where he can see the works of natur' on a stupendious scale."
Sassafras was about to interrupt him, when the captain
changed his tone, and continued.
" He is owmer of a plantation in the West Indies and mines
on the Spanish Main. Having been to visit those properties,
he came back by way of the Crooked Island Passage. You
don't know where that is, but I do, having been on an expedi-
tion to an island thereabouts, on which the buccaneers buried
a mighty treasure. Lord ! Sassafras, if we could only find it !
Well, he lands in Cuba, and comes on to Orleans, to make a
tour in this country before he goes home."
" Then your contingent interest is in the sugar plantation
and the "
" Coffee— coffee plantation, Sassafras! It's coffee grounds
he owns, and the quality of the berry is beautiful. He brought
a sample and we tried it at Orleans. He had offers for the
crop, but had contracted it in England."
" Well, coffee, then. The contingent interest is in the
coffee plantation and the mines on the Spanish Main, is it?"
said Sassafras.
" No," replied the captain. " If it was it would not be easy
to realize it. It is in certain money he has deposited in the
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 147
Bank of Louisiana. I tell you this because I feel certain you'll
want to know what induces me to divide with you in the mattter
of the ready money."
" All right. I don't care a picayune what the contingency
is in. That's your affair. The present interest in the ready
money is to be equally divided between us, when we have
bagged it."
" No, it ain't ; only the money won on the first race is to be
divided that way. When we come to the main stakes, I must
have two-thirds," said the captain.
" Then I can tell you," said Sassafras, decisively, " that your
interest, present and prospective, is worth just about as much
as a share in the treasure buried by the buccaneers on the
island near the Grand Cayman. I know what that's worth.
Man alive ! I've been there, too. Do you think that I, who
must be the actual winner of the money, am to be put off with
less than half?"
« Not so loud ! Hear reason, and don't be hasty. If you
have a fault. Sassafras, it is going off at half-cock. Listen to
me — not a dollar of Ja — of Mr. Grosvernor's money can be
handled except through me. Not a dollar ! If you agree to
that which I propose, your third, with the half of the first
winnings, will amount to five hundred guineas — five hundred
guineas !" the old man repeated with slow and round emphasis.
" Your'n will amount to about a thousand," said Sassafras,
curtly.
" Ay ; but I must give Kirby and Keeps each a share, recol-
lect that. Besides, consider the risk and unpleasantness of
taking the gentleman down the river broke. That will fall
on me, while you will go north to St. Jo., as rich as a Jew
and happy as a king. I wish I was in your place and you
were in mine, I do," said the captain.
" Now, look here," said Sassafras, " the contingent interest
will pay well for taking the man down the river. If it
wouldn't, you w^ould leave him to get down as he might. As
to Kirby and Keeps, you won't give 'em more than t\YO hun-
dred silver dollars a-piece, when you strike the Arkansas, and
you'll win that back before they see Little Kock. They won't
ring in any cold decks on you."
" I don't think they will," said the captain, dryly. " But
148 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
consideriog that I have in a manner got this money already
in hand, and that the five hundred guineas will be the same
as a gift to you, don't you think that you are in conscience
and duty bound to be content with one-third of the main
stakes ?"
" No, I don't. I must have half or as good as half," replied
Sassafras. " I'll take the Englishman's white stud, and allow
two hundred dollars for him in the settlement between you
and me."
"Two hundred ! he thinks him worth two thousand," said
the captain. " But never mind his horse for the present. The
thing to go for first is his money. Since we are old friends, and
I may never have such another opportunity to oblige a friend,
I will agree that you shall have four hundred dollars out of
every thousand won by us from Grosvernor after the first
race — there !" he exclaimed, as if amazed at his own gener-
osity. " Your shares together wdll reach eight hundred guin-
eas — eight hundred guineas !" he repeated, slowly, and with
round, dwelling emphasis. "There ain't another man west
of the Mississippi that I would do it for."
" No, nor east of it either," said Sassafras ; " but suppose I
should come into your plan on these terms, how is it to be
carried out?"
" You say agreed, I'll find the way ; and after the little busi-
ness of the first race, we'll go for blood — meaning big money,
you know\"
" Very well ! I say agreed. Now let's hear how this man
is to be corralled in, so that he'll lay pretty nigh two thou-
sand guineas on a second race, after having lost on the first.
He isn't altogether a fool in such matters, I suppose !"
" A fool ! oh, no ! he knows more about such matters than
you and I put together. The Derby, the Leger, Newmarket,
and what not — he knows it all. Sassafras ; knows it all !" said
the old gentleman, with a chuckle. " I said he was suspicious ;
he's conceited as well, and reckons his own judgment better
than mine. He contradicts my opinions, and rejects my advice
— thinks very little of it, and will think less, when the first
race is over. Now," continued the captain, leaning forward
over the barrel, in such a manner as to endanger the whiskey
jug, which Sassafras thereupon removed, " after your mare has
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO X. 149
beat my horse in the match now made, we can make another.
He'll back your mare at strong odds, and all we have to do is
to stretch out our hands and grasp 'em !"
"We shall never grasp them in that way," said Sassafras.
" The plan won't work. The Indians will back the mare, and
I daren't pull her. There was nearly a bloody fight when Vir-
ginia was beat by you last year."
" Kever mind their small amount of silver — we can make it
up to them through the traders."
" Ay ! but we had better mind their lead. The end of it
might be a bullet in my head and another in yours, and what
would be the use of the Englishman's gold then? The thing
would be too plain. Staples. If it was the Englishman's white
stud now that run against her, he might win. He's a very
fine-looking horse, and ought to beat her."
" You think he could beat her, eh ?" said the captain, with
another chuckle. In a moment, however, his merriment ceased,
and he added, " but the money couldn't be laid right in that
case. He conceits that horse mightily. The best way will be
to run my horse and let him beat Virginia. The Indians can
be squared, and the Cheyenne band can overawe the others.
The chief is your friend."
"His band couldn't overawe a marksman in a bush, and I
tell you that plan won't work," said Sassafras. "Besides,
there's a little coolness between me and Cinnamon just now,
caused by the interference of Pierre Langlois."
" I see ! something has been said," returned the captain. " I
have been all my life trying to get people to mind their own
business, and let that of other folks alone, but I can't effect it.
But now to come back to our business. Suppose you were to
run the Young Chief against my horse and got him beat. It's
true there would be no odds laid against him, and we should
have hard work to raise enough to stake against the English-
man's guineas, at even bets."
" I don't know about that. You've got some money, I've
got some. We reckon upon winning some on the first race.
And then the traders will cash a bill on Orleans for me, on
good security. Young Campau comes from St. Jo., and knows
my plantation. Still, I am of the belief that it can't be
worked that way, for the Young Chief is lame, and the Eng-
150 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
lishman would see it with half an eye. Better leave the
shaping of the main matter until after the first race is run.
To make sure work, let the Euglishman lay plenty of money
on that. Meantime, I'll make his acquaintance, and don't you
come mixing in when we are talking together."
After Sassafras concluded, the old man sat in thought. He
was considering whether he could not contrive some means by
which Sassafras and his mare Virginia might be beaten in the
first race. That would have been a coup after his own heart,
but he could not see how he could win the money of the Eng-
lishman, after having deceived Sassafras, without jeopardiziug
his chance and contingent interest in the Bank of England
notes and sundry securities deposited in the Bank of Louisiana.
Jagger, as bold and unscrupulous, in his way, as the worthy
old captain himself, had led him to believe that the amount
was about ten times as great as it was in reality. By this
means he had acquired a strong influence on Staples to insure
his personal safety. The old man was virtually bound over
in the amount deposited in the bank, to bring Jagger safe
back to New Orleans. Moreover, the captain had a saving
conviction that a repetition of the strategy by which he had
been enabled to defeat Virginia the year before, in the Terri-
tory of the Cherokee Nation, would be dangerous. He rose
and said :
" Well, we understand each other. Don't let your mare
look too well, for Mr. Grosveruor will scan her general ap-
pearance, and if she shows racing like, may take a notion to
bet on her, or not bet at all."
" Leave it to me to manage his lordship on that point," said
Sassafras, going out with the captain. " She shall go in the
balance of her work in such a way, and look so queer, up to
within ten minutes of the start, that he'll reckon she can't beat
a bull."
TEE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 151
CHAPTER XVII.
"Away, and mock the time with fairest show;
For the false face must hide what the false heart doth know/'
TT7HEN Captain Staples and Sassafras parted after their
^^ interview, the mental exclamation of each in regard to
the other was, " Here's a pretty rascal !" It was the more
emphatic on the part of Staples, who had expected Sassafras
to make some remonstrance before coming into the fraudulent
scheme by which the intended victim was to be despoiled. On
the other hand. Sassafras knew that Staples w^as an unscrupu-
lous rogue just as well before the latter unfolded his plan as
he did after he had announced it. The captain walked out
into the night, like a hardy robber, to whom darkness is a
familiar and welcome cloak, or a wolf who prowls, watchful
and confident, in his haunts of chase and prey. He had gone
some eight or ten rods into the prairie, when he halted, and
seemed to deliberate as to whether he should not return and
renew the conversation with his partner' in the conspiracy he
had planned and was bent upon carrying out. But after brooding
for a minute or two, he said :
" No, I'll see him no more to-night. He's so very ready to
go into this business that I must beware of him. The fellow
bears me no good will. He has threatened me once or twice.
He has kept up a sort of character for honesty, and all that
sort of thing, a good deal too expensive for my means, and for
that I always hated him. But see, now, how he jumps at the
golden bait as soon as the stakes are big enough. He's as
great a rogue as I am. As great did I say ? — much greater ;
for this money, as I look at it, is mine by a sort of right. I
steered it safe through New Orleans, where Jagger would not
have had sense enough to keep it twenty-four hours. I have
protected it all the way from Kirby and Keeps and others,
who would have got the Englishman roped in long ago. Be-
sides, Sassafras is a young man, without a family to provide
for, and with a good plantation on the Missouri, close to St.
152 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
Jo. Beyond all doubt, the fellow shows himself to be a much
bigger rogue than I am. But I hate him now almost or quite
as much as I did before. He's fallen out with the Cheyenne
and Pierre Langlois ! That's what makes him afraid to throw
a race in my favor, between the gray mare and my horse. A
rogue, and afraid, too ! What a world it's got to be since I
was a boy ! I didn't think this villain would have been afraid
of the d — 1 himself. He's afraid of these Indians, however.
Now, if I could get them on my side, it would be a strong
stroke of policy, and might be the means, by and by, of mak-
ing Sassafras disgorge some of this money of mine that he
greedily insists upon having for his trifling share in the busi-
ness. How to manage it is the thing. Go to the chief in the
first place I can't, for he's a sulky sort of redskin, and does
not like me. Prejudiced by the rascal Sassafras, no doubt.
Pierre Langlois doesn't like me either ; but 1 can manage
him. Pierre's the man, and I'll go to him right away."
With this the captain strode rapidly on, passed the bushes
by the pond at the east end, and on up to the traders' fort, as
it was called. He was soon admitted, and inquiring for Lang-
lois, was shown into an apartment partitioned off with rough
boards, at one end of which were rows of sleeping-berths, like
those on the beam deck of a ship. Pierre Langlois, a man of
forty years, with the figure of an Indian and the yellowish
complexion of a French half-breed, was seated at a table with
the acquaintance of Sassafras, young Campau, whose father
was the principal man in the company of traders, and two
other men belonging to the fort. They were playing cards.
It is very likely that Pierre was on the winning side, and that
he had been taking a drink or two of the fine old whiskey in
the company's store, a much superior article to that sold by
its factors at enormous rates to the Indians and hunters who
were almost the sole customers at the fort, for his reception of
Staples was not ungracious, and in his talk with the other
players he was loud and voluble. There was another person
in the room besides those of the card party when Staples en-
tered, but he was so situated as to be unobserved. It was the
young Kiowa. He lay in one of the berths, so shaded from
the light and so still that the captain did not notice his pres-
ence. At the conclusion of the game then pending, Campau
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 153
and the other men of the fort retired from the room. Up to
this time the conversation between Lauglois and Staples had
been of that broken, interjectory order which may be held be-
tween the fall of cards and during the dealing of them. It
was not to be thought that Staples would bring on his motion,
m re Sassafras, while Campau was present; but now that he
and the other man were gone, he improved his opportunity.
He began by assuring his neighbor, Langlois, of his sincere
regard, and went on to lament that so good a man should be
in a difficulty with a desperate character such as Sassafras.
He, Staples, had had several differences with Sassafras him-
self, in all of which the young man had been wholly to blame.
Langlois might have heard of this, and of the moderation and
mildness by means of which Staples had avoided the shedding
of blood. Sassafras was quarrelsome, violent and vindictive —
bull-headed as an old, solitary buffalo. He had a very bitter
tongue ; had said hard things of him, Staples, and when a
man w^ould do that, what was not to be expected? He had
said many hard things of Langlois, and the captain was not
surprised at it. He then very glibly repeated some of these
sayings, for the information and satisfaction of the object of
them. There were such as Sassafras had never uttered, but
the captain did not invent them for the occasion. They mainly
consisted of what Staples himself had said of Langlois on
various occasions.
At the close of an address of some length, the captain
paused to hear what his neighbor had to say to it. At first
the latter had been eager to put in, and had tried to interrupt
the steady flow of the captain's narrative once or twice, but
on the last of these occasions something had happened which
made him change his mind. He was in front of the berths,
before mentioned ; Staples sat with his back to them. All at
once, Pierre's manner changed from that of the eager, excited
Frenchman, to that of the stolid Indian, determined to main-
tain dogged silence at any cost. Perhaps the captain attri-
buted this result to his own eloquence. He had just then re-
cited some of the bitterest things, which he alleged were said
of Langlois by Sassafras. However that may be, when the
captain came to his pause, Pierre remained silent and smoked
away with the obstinacy and grave assiduity of the most
154 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK.
ponderous Dutchman. Thereupon the captain opened the
second head of his discourse, to the following effect : It would
be a very bad job if Sassafras made trouble between Langlois
and his brother, the chief. He, Staples, was afraid he would
try to do so, and Langlois ought to take measures to head
him off in time. He ought to see the chief and put hiin on
his guard against this vindictive and dangerous man. The
Indians were easily misled, and this Sassafras was of all men
the very one to do it. He, Staples, would advise Langlois to
go to the chief in the morning, and enlighten him as to the
true character of his pretended friend from Missouri. Sassa-
fras was no friend to the Indians at all, but a greedy adven-
turer, ready to plunder and betray friend and foe alike. Lang-
lois might be sure of this, for he. Staples, had had proof of
the greed and treachery of Sassafras that very night ; and
of all things in the world betw^een man and man, Staples most
hated treachery and greed, especially where Indians were the
victims of them. Much more to the same effect the old man
said ; but he extracted nothing from Langlois, whose replies
were very brief and indistinct, from his speaking with his
pipe in his mouth. When he thought he had well primed
his man, so that the quarrel between Sassafras and the chief
was sure to be fomented, and the breach between them cer-
tain to be widened, the captain rose and left the room. Lang-
lois, perhaps, might have followed, but the door w^as no sooner
shut upon the retreating figure of the former, than the young
Kiowa sprang lightly to the floor, and putting one hand on
Pierre's shoulder, laid the other on his mouth. They listened
warily for a few moments, then they sat down together, and
talked in whispers.
Meantime, Sassafras left his camp, and, gun in hand (he was
seldom without his rifle when on foot), began leisurely to climb
the wooded hill, between his camp and the valley, in which
the tents of the Cheyennes were pitched. Although it was
nearly dark, he made his way between the trees and bushes,
and over the fallen, rotting trunks, as if guided by a sort of in-
stinct. " A nice man is Staples," said Sassafras, " especially
for an old man. The saying is ' No fool like an old fool ;' it
ought to be < No rogue like an old rogue.' And the old hum-
bug thought to come it over me with his tough yarn about a
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 155
lord in disguise, coffee plantation in the Leeward Islands, and
mines on the Spanish Main. The mine is the Englishman's
guineas, and it's all fair to work it. These men are villains !
anything is fair to beat them — that is, anything in reason."
He reached the top of the hill, and saw the fires of the Indians
glowing and sparkling in the valley below. Sometimes, as
they blazed up, the forms of the warriors might be perceived
reclining near them. " I wonder, now, whether that boy has
been to see the chief again," said Sassafras, " or whether he is
up at the fort with Pierre Langlois. He may be out on a hunt
with some of the men, but I doubt it. He wa'nt rigged in
hunting gear to my eye. But never mind ! I'll see Cinna-
mon," With this he strode down the slope, and saluting the
Indians who were upon the verge of the camp, moved in to-
wards the centre, where Cinnamon's tent was pitched. The
chief was at some little distance, leaning against a sapling
which grew in the glade, within the circle of light cast by one
of the fires. He was very grave, and so still that in that ruddy
light he looked mare like a grand, severe statue of a warrior
of his tribe, than a living man ; and yet if one had caught a
glimpse of his deep, dark eye, as it received the rays of the fire,
and flashed it back again, he might have seen a world of life
and power in the brain beyond. As Sassafras approached, the
Indian made a step forward, and put forth his open hand,
wdiile his countenance, before so sombre, glowed with pleasure.
" Sassafras is welcome to Cinnamon's camp," said he, leading
the w^ay to his own tent. They sat down together, smoked the
usual pipe, and then conversed for some time, in short, sen-
tient phrases. Sassafras carried on the conversation for the
most part, the chief listening attentively, and occasionally
making an observation. When they rose the Indian walked
with the white man to the foot of the hill.
Sassafras had crossed it, and entered the little valley in
which his own camp was placed, when his quick eye, far-
reaching almost as that of a tiger by night, caught sight of a
form half crouching in some straggling bushes. The ominous
click of the lock of the Western rifle, as Sassafras cocked it,
sounded in the still night upon the ear of him who was half
in hiding, and, straightening up, he stepped clear of the brush.
"Halloo, Joe! What brings you skulking here? I had
156 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
almost put a bullet through you !" said Sassafras, addressing
a half-breed lad belonging to the fort.
" No skulk— not at all," said the boy ; " only wait for you."
" Well, here I am," said Sassafras, as they entered the edge
of the flickering light of the fire, from the dark void beyond.
" Now what is it, Joe ?"
" You to read alone," said the boy, putting a piece of folded
paper into the man's hand.
" From the fort, is it ?"
The boy nodded, and was about to turn away.
"Stop!" exclaimed Sassafras, laying his hand upon his
shoulder and detaining him. "Who sent it?"
" Say that inside ; you read alone," said Joe.
"That is, nobody else must read, eh?"
"Nobody see you read — you read alone, I was to say,"
replied the boy.
" Ay, 1 am to read it when I'm alone. Very good. Do
you know what is in it?"
" Writing in it. You read alone, Sassafras."
"IMaybe you have read it alone — eh, Joe?" said Sassafras,
with a half-laugh.
" No, I can't read," said the boy.
" Can't read ! I thought you had been east to the mission
to school?" returned the Western man.
" I was, but I read not writing ; only read book. You read
alone, Sassafras. Friend say to me, * Tell Sassafras to read
alone.' "
"What friend?"
" Campau. He say : ' Joe, you take this to Sassafras.
Nobody see you but Sassafras, and Sassafras read alone.'
Nobody see me. I see Kirby and Englishman at Staples's
shanty, both drunk."
" You are a good boy, Joe. I like you, Joe. If I win a
race here, as I'm sure to do, you shall have something to re-
member it bv."
When Sassafras had said this, he made a pause. He might
have resolved much of which he had asked the boy, by open-
ing the paper, going to the fire, and reading it ; but he had
held the youth in parley for another purpose.
" Joe," said he, in a confidential sort of tone, " there was a
youDg Kiowa at the fort ; is he there now ?"
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 157
" He is," replied the boy.
" What do you know about him ?" asked Sassafras.
" Nothiug," replied the boy, in a sulky tone. "I like not
the Kiowas. They kill my fader on the Arkansas, above the
great bend."
" Ah ! I remember hearing of it," said Sassafras. " "Well,
Joe, what does that boy do at the fort ?"
"Netting that I know of," said the half-breed.
" Nothing ! why don't he practise with the bow and arrows
and his rifle at a mark ?"
" He's got no bow and arrow and no rifle, but he does prac-
tise at a mark, and it's wonderful."
" Tell me how, Joe ; I'm somewhat anxious about that boy.
Of course he is an Indian ?"
" Kiowa ! bad Indian ! son of war chief beyond the Ar-
kansas, way up in mountains. I don't like 'um. His practice
is with a knife. Sassafras, he can stand twenty feet off" from
a mark the size of a dollar and stick the point of his knife
into it every throw."
" The d — 1 he can ! That beats the fellow in the calaboose,
after we left the Grand Cayman. Joe, have you heard this
boy talk ?"
"Very little; only to himself when he thought he was
alone."
" Did you understand him ? What was his tongue ?"
''I don't know. It was not English, nor French, nor any
Indian that I understand, but they say nobody can understand
the Kiowas."
Sassafras pondered a few minutes and then said :
" Joe, do you understand Spanish ?"
"I don't think I do," replied the boy, "if the Mexicans
speak Spanish."
" Well, Joe, keep your eye on that boy and take care of his
knife. I say — did you see any name on that knife ? Describe
the knife."
" Ivory haft, two-edged blade, five inches long, tapering to
a point. ' On the blade these letters in gold, 'TOLEDO.'"
" And that spells Toledo ! Well, Joe, come and see me
again."
The boy sprang forward towards the prairie, with his head
158 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
low, and footsteps soft and agile as those of a panther. Sassa-
fras went to the fire, threw on a handful of brush, and as it
blazed up, read the following note : —
" Staples was here trying to get Langlois to make a difficulty
between you and Cinnamon. Beware of him. Be secret and
be shrewd. Fear nothing from the young Kiowa. Send Tom
Scarlet to the hills on a hunt with Frangois. Campau."
Sassafras re-read the note, commenting as he proceeded : —
" * Staples trying to make difficulty' — d — 1 doubt him ! He's
always trying to do that. ' Beware of him !' all right ! un-
necessary advice ! ' Fear nothing from the young Kiowa.'
Now, that's the kernel of this nut, if I could crack it. There's
no Kiowa about him, I'll bet a hundred to one on it. * Send
Tom Scarlet on a hunt with Fran9ois.' That piece of advice
is good, for if he and Staples and Jagger should meet he would
betray himself — he couldn't help it, and the fat would be in
the fire in no time. 'Campau !' very good name is Campau,
especially on a note promising to pay money at bank, but if
Campau wrote this I'll eat it. I know his hand-write, and this
ain't a bit like it. Let me see ! I'm not much of a scholar,
but when I see a thing once, of any moment, I generally know
when I see it again, and I'll swear I have seen this hand-
write before."
Sassafras sat and pondered. Suddenly he gave a start, and
said :
" The letters from New Orleans to Tom Scarlet and me !
That's where I saw it before ; and the same hand that wrote
them wrote this. I wish we had those letters here ! * Fear
nothing from the young Kiowa !' Fear ! I should think not.
But I am curious concerning that boy, especially after hearing
of his doings with a knife. It's my opinion that he knows
another trick or two with it besides casting it at a mark. No
rifle ! That shows he is no French creole from below. No
bow and arrows ! That shows he's no Indian from the south-
west. Besides, he doesn't ride much, and he is not in-toed
when he's afoot! Let me see! The little hands and feet
which Fran9ois observed! And the eye which is neither
French nor Indian, but deeper, and brighter in its fire, than
either of them. I have it! He's a Spanish creole from the
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 159
islands ; that's what he is ! And what he is doing here I'll
find out yet. I'll just catch him alive some of these nights,
knife or no knife."
He went softly to the wagon under which the Frenchmen
were sleeping, and awoke Frangois.
" Fran9oi3," said he, " take Tom Scarlet on a hunt to the
hills to-mcrrow. He's eager to go for a day or two."
" My faith ! Sassafras, there's no deer in the near hills.
The Indians have driven them away by so much hunting."
" All the better. Take him to the farther hills, where the
deer are, and elk, too, and keep him there a week. I want to
get him out of sight of Staples. Propose the hunt to him
forthwith — he'll readily agree. Fill your saddle-bags, and
start soon after daylight — ' over the hills and far away !' I
should like to go on a good hunt myself, but have much to do
here. Staples tries to make a difficulty between me and the
Indians ; but his scheme will fail. By the time you return I
shall have all ready for our great stroke."
CHAPTER XVIII.
"Though in the trade of war I have slain men,
Yet do I hold it very stufif o' the conscience
To do no contrived murder."
TT was the break of day, and the air came fresh and cool,
J- with the gray tints of dawn, from the tops of the eastern
mountains. The clarion of the cock at the fort, and the an-
swering challenge of others at Captain Staples's quarters,
valorously ushered in the morn. In the vale of Sassafras's
camp the grass was heavy and dank with dew; the horses
rising one after another, and shaking their manes, began to
crop it. The active leader of the little band was early on foot,
and now there was bustle all around in getting ready for the
hunting expedition of Fran9ois and Tom Scarlet. By the
blazing fire, the negro cook, a master of his art in regard to
frying steaks and making corn cakes, was busy preparing the
breakfast. The boiling coflfee spread its fragrant essence
through the fresh morning air, while coUops of venison and
slices of fat salt pork hissed and spluttered in the frying-pans,
160 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO X.
one of which the cook dexterously held in each hand. Proud
■was the cook of his skill, fully appreciating the importance of
his art to sojourners in the wilderness. Behind the tents and
wao-ons two other men of his race were equipping the horses
of Francois and Tom Scarlet, while they ate from feed-boxes
of the rare dainty, to them, of sound, bright oats, mixed with
Indian corn. Further to the rear another negro, perhaps a
man, perhaps but a youth, for his appearance gave little indi-
cation of his age, was rubbing down the gray race-mare,
Virginia. This personage paid but little regard to the pro-
ceecfings of his mates with the other horses; and though his
wide nostril expanded as it owned the savory scent from the
frying-pans, he seemed to look upon the cook even with a
supercilious air. It must have been the dignity of his station
and occupation which inspired him, for of natural advantages
he had few to boast. He was black as night, when the thun-
der clouds fill the vast arch of the sky and shut up the stars.
His form was spare and ungainly, especially when he was on
foot, for in the saddle he displayed a sort of rough readiness
and ease which almost amounted to grace. His bullet head
was covered with close, crisp hair of the woolly order. His
features were hard. One bright eye, which fairly glowed
when he was animated, was all he had. His mouth, enormous
in its width, was garnished with very white and even teeth.
At a little distance stood Sassafras, with Tom Scarlet and
Fran9ois, to whom he was making rapid explanations and
giving instructions. Where the valley and the prairie met
the form of Jules was just visible as he brushed the dew away
with long strides, carolling gaily on his way to the fort with a
message to Pierre Langlois.
Breakfast over, the hunters mounted, and with a hearty
shake of the hand. Sassafras said :
" Good-by, Tom, and good luck. I know you'll have sport,
and should like to see you enjoy it. But that can't be this
time. You have with you one of the best men that ever
tracked a buck or shot an elk upon the frontier. Francois,
within six days return, and come in secretly by night."
The hunters rode away up the hill, so as to strike the valley
of the Cheyenne camp below the bend at which it lay. Sas-
safras looked after them until they entered the thick timber
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK. 161
and underbrush of the saddle between the two hills. Then he
turned to his favorite mare Virginia, and his true and trusty
rider, Black Dick.
" Dick, I shall not be on the track this morning. I have
another matter to look after," said Sassafras.
" Berry well. Massa tell what I do," returned the negro,
with his hand on the crest of the mare.
" The boys will go with you when Jules gets back. He
must be breakfasting at the fort, and will be here by the time
you have finished your own."
As Sassafras said this the lips of the negro parted, so as to
display his formidable teeth, all ready for their matin meal.
His master continued :
" Walk the mare a bit, then canter a couple of miles ; then
strip and take her a mile at above half speed. Scrape, then,
if she will scrape, and wind up with a good brushing gallop,
twice round. You understand ?"
" I understand," replied Dick ; " but must hab 'e Young
Chief to gallop with her. Dis ar mar' nebber go at all alone,
and 'e Chief sound enuff."
" N^ever you mind the Chief, he'll stay where he is until
almost noontime, when you can walk him. Do just what I
say — no more, no less."
" I brieve I alius do what massa say," replied the black in
a sulky tone, with his eye lowering and dull. " But massa
better tell 'e more too. Dis ar mar' nebber go a bit alone."
"Give her a touch with the spur."
" Spur !" said Dick, with a faint tinge of contempt, " 'e mar'
fight agen 'e spur ; and nebber go a good sharp lick alone."
" I don't want her to go a good sharp lick, but only to seem
as if she was doing nearly her best," said Sassafras. Then he con-
tinued to his pupil, and, in part, his confidant : " And mind this,
if the Englishman over there saj^s she is tired after her gallop
don't you contradict a gentleman of experience and high de-
gree from the old country — a man that can buy us all. D'ye
mind, Dick?"
The negro looked at his master for a moment, as if unable
to comprehend his drift ; but as Sassafras looked steadily and
significantly at him, awakening intelligence began to spread
over the hard ebony face. The bright eye lighted up, and
11
162 THE WHITE HOESE OF WOOTTOK
opeDing the capacious mouth so that the white walls and red
lining yawned like a cavern, the black laughed till he shook
again.
" Come, that'll do, Dick. You understand how to work
after breakfast ?"
" Brieve I do. Dat ar mar' alius pull up tired," said the
negro, with another powerful laugh. " I nebber contradict a
gemman of high degree, 'cause 'e mar' alius pull up tired,
berry tired indeed ! Ho ! ho ! yah ! berry tired !"
Sassafras walked off, rifle in hand, and the negro went to
breakfast with his mates. For some time, seated on a feed-
box, he put his great mouth and beautiful teeth to exceeding
good use. Then looking at the gray mare for a long time with
the one bright eye, he suddenly burst out with such a roar of
laughter that, rocking himself to and fro, he slipped off the
box, and rolled and roared with ecstasy upon the grass.
" What ail dat nigga Dick ?" cried the others.
" Nebber contradict a gemman of high degree in all 'e life,"
said Dick ; then sitting up and wiping his o'erflowing eye, he
exclaimed, " Dat ar mar' alius pull up tir"ed ! berry tired ! ho !
ho! ha!"
Sassafras, whistling as he went, proceeded to the Cheyenne
camp. Pierre Lauglois, in compliance with the message deliv-
ered to him by Jules, was already there, and the chief sat grave
and still near the brands and ashes of the morning fire. A
few words from Sassafras were sufficient to inform the Indian
and his half-brother that the border man had come to hold a
sort of council with them. Cinnamon rose, and passing by the
men of his baud who lounged about the camp, led the way into
the wood on the hill. The three men sat down on a mossy log,
the chief in the centre. The latter filled the pipe of ceremony
with the choicest tobacco, mixed with some other dried and
fragrant herbs, and lighted it. A puff or two were taken in
turn by Sassafras and Pierre, as a matter of established form,
after which they produced their own pipes, and all three smoked
steadily in silence. When the pipes were finished Sassafras
opened his business by a few terse sentences in the Cheyenne
tongue, and concluded by requesting Lauglois to relate what
had fiillen from Staples in the night interview at the fort.
Pierre readily complied, and as he hated Staples with a viva-
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 163
cioiis hatred, and there was nothing to check his volubility,
the story lost nothing in the telling, and Pierre's comments
upon the facts were vigorous. Sassafras said nothing. The
chief sat very grave and still, with eyes cast down, until his
half-brother had finished. Then Cinnamon arose, and facing
the white man, laid his hand upon the ornament, the horse's
head, the latter wore upon his breast.
" Sassafras," said he, " is a warrior of my tribe. Together
we went out against the Sioux of the north, and their young
men fell like leaves from trees when the west wind blows.
The skin of Sassafras, clothed from the sun and wind, is pale,
but his blood is red as that of the Indians of the plains and
western mountains. He has an enemy. The wolverine is
hated by the hunter and the warrior, and every man slays the
cunning beast when he can. Sassafras is a man ! His gun is
true, his hand is strong, and his knife is keen. Let my friend
kill his enemy, and leave him to the ravens of the woods."
Cinnamon's friends appeared to be somewhat unprepared
for this decisive counsel, though not much startled by the cool
ferocity with which the summary taking off of Staples was
proposed. They looked at each other, as if each was waiting
for his neighbor to speak. Meantime the red man of the
immense plains and stupendous mountains played with his tom-
ahawk, and felt its keen edge with an air of abstraction.
After a silence which lasted from five to ten minutes, Sassa-
fras laid his hand upon the rich-brown arm of the chief, and
said :
" Cinnamon, you mean well. The thing might easily be
done, and very few would go into mourning because the ravens
and wolves had cleaned the bones of Staples. In you it would
be human nature to take him unawares ; but I, you see, can-
not do it. I cannot kill a man in cold blood ; neither can I
get up a passion, and contrive a quarrel for the purpose of
fixing him in that."
" Sassafras had no quarrel with the Sioux ; he was cool
when we went into ambush, and shot their young men," said
the chief, with a smile.
"Ah, but circumstances alter cases. Cinnamon," said Sassa-
fras, in reply. "■ It's true I had no quarrel with the Sioux,
but you had ; and they were a bloody set that we fought
164 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK.
against. It was a state of war, which makes all the difference.
That Staples and I shall have a fight in the end, is very
likely. I shall neitlier bring it on, nor try to avoid it. When
it happens, his time is come, and I shall kill him. For why ?
Because he will kill me, if I do not kill him."
The chief said no more, and Langlois looked relieved.
Sassafras adverted to the note sent to him the night before
from the fort, but Pierre made no observation. Kor could the
chief or his half-brother be drawn on to talk of the young
Kiowa ; so Sassafras, changing the subject, spoke of the match
between the gray mare and the horse brought from the South
by Staples. The Indian listened with interest to the praises
bestowed by her master on Virginia ; and before the three
men separated the sun was high in the heavens.
The meridian heat was past, and a tinge of crimson had
begun to flush the light clouds in the western sky, when Sas-
safras sauntered carelessly down to the race-track. Jagger,
alias Reginald Grosvernor, was already there, mounted upon
the White Horse. This man was about forty years old, lathy
in figure, about the middle height, and far from prepossessing
in countenance. His face was thin and blotchy. His nose was
very red and somewhat swollen, having been scorched and
peeled, instead of tanned, by the fervid western sun. His eye
was small and uncertain, stealing furtive glances from under
the drooping lid ; and his scanty hair and whiskers were sandy
in color. In his attire and general get-up there was a mixture
of finery, soiled and worn, instead of the rough but serviceable
garments adapted to the prairie and the woods. A figured
satin stock did not altogether hide the breast of a dirty shirt.
His pearl-colored doeskin trousers were strapped down over
much-worn boots ; his coat of the Newmarket cut, once bright-
green, but now faded, showed many a soil ; and his Panama
hat was bruised, broken and begrimed. But with all this he
wore a profusion of jewelry, and looked like a member of the
swell mob in adverse circumstances. In external points the
horse he rode seemed much the nobler animal of the two.
The eye of Sassafras ranged over him from his muzzle to his
hoofs, and dwelt with delight upon his excellent proportions.
But he soon directed his attention to the man, and addressing
him with such familiarity as their presence in the wilds and
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 165
their occupatious might justify, begau by complimenting him
upon his riding and evident general knowledge of horseman-
ship. The gudgeon eagerly snapped at the bait. Feeling
pleased with the admiration bestowed upon him, and the
modest deference so artfully paid to him, Reginald decided to
patronize the young fellow before him in so much as to give
him the benefit of some of his knowledge and experience in
racing matters.
Jagger was, in truth, but a poor horseman ; his knowledge
of the turf was mostly confined to rascalities, practised by the
few who believe them to be universal, in connection therewith.
Sassafras had already taken the measure of his man, but
although his breast swelled with alternate emotions of anger
and amusement, as Jagger held forth and instructed him in
the mysteries of breeding, training and riding, there was no
sign in his hard, dark, hickory face. It was long since Jagger
had enjoyed the enlightening of a man who suited him, and
who seemed so thoroughly the slave of his humor. Staples
was too opinionated to listen, and had too much experience
of racing himself to hear patiently the romances related by
Jagger of his own wonderful exploits. Kirby and Keeps
knew of no better horses than the hardy and clever animals
on which they had been accustomed to hunt the buffalo.
They were willing enough to drink with Jagger from dark to
dawn ; but whenever he began to feel the effects of his deep
potations, and commenced the account of the way in which he
won the Derby with an outsider, and brought about the defeat
of the three favorites for the St. Leger, the burly hunter sum-
marily desired him to " shet up." As for Tom of Lincoln, he had
no sooner found himself in America, and consequently out of
the purview of a warrant from an English magistrate, than he
quarrelled with his patron, knocked him down in a drunken
spree, and went off on his own hook, after extorting a con-
sidei'able sum of money from him. Jagger galloped his horse,
and Sassafras was profuse in his professions of admiration and
delight. His intended victim talked long and learnedly, and
after going to the fort to drink, talked long again. Once more,
twice more, they went to the fort for liquor, and Jagger treated
Staples's negro boys. The Western man made feints, as if
about to leave, but Jagger detained him, and talked on and
166 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
on. To the fort again, where Jagger, seated on a barrel, and
thrashing his legs ^Yith his whip, harangued and drank, and
declaimed and drank again, until his eyes were red and watery,
his voice was thick, and he forgot, from time to time, the
thread of his discourse. Finally his docile and admiring friend
flatly contradicted him touching the merits and condition of
the gray mare, Virginia. Jagger declared that she was no
race-horse. He had noticed her frame, and no horse made in
that form could run fast, or stay for more than a mile. And
then he hiccoughed out that he had seen her pull up tired,
after a moderate galloj) of two miles, and that the black chap
who rode her would confirm what he said. To all appearance
Sassafras was in high dudgeon, and the end of a long, rambling
discussion between them was a bet of five hundred dollars,
Sassafras backing the gray mare, and Jagger taking the chest-
nut horse belonging to his earnest and sincere friend, Captain
Staples. It ought to be stated that this result was not finally
brought about until the captain himself had arrived, and had
heard Jagger relate, in a corner, with the cunning leer of
intoxication and wdth owlish gravity, the distressed condition
of the mare after her morning gallop.
"Are you sure of that?" said Staples.
" Sure as heggs is heggs. Ask the blackamoor who rode
her," said Jagger, with a reel.
"What, Black Dick? O, if he said she was tired, or
allowed she was tired when you made the observation, it's all
right. Make the bet, and don't let Sassafras back out. Make
the bet at once," said the venerable and disinterested Staples.
The bet was made, play or pay, as Staples in a whisper
suggested, and Jagger obstinately insisted. The money was
staked in Campau's hands, and was by him handed over to the
manager of the company for safe-keeping. More drink and
more hubbub followed. At length the parties separated.
Staples followed Sassafras into the dark shade, and exchanged
a few sentences with him. Jagger was dragged off to the
shanty between Kirby and Keeps, and awoke the next morn-
ing with a headache and an intense longing for soda-water,
of which there was none within about a thousand miles. Two
days after the match was run, a dash twice round the course.
The chestnut horse led for a mile and three-quarters, and
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 167
Jagger oracularly announced that it was all over. It is pos-
sible that if Black Dick had heard him he might have been
loath to contradict, in fact, a "gemman of high degree ;" but as
it was, he brought Virginia to the front in the last quarter of
a mile, and won by a length.
CHAPTER XIX.
"Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure,
Like doth quit like, and Measure still for Measure."
IT was night, and the store at the fort was almost full of
rough and noisy men. Indians, hunters, traders, and a few
negroes were there, talking and drinking. Sassafras was, for
the present, king of the company. He had received the stakes
of the race, and had liberally treated all who chose to partake
at his expense. Everybody did choose, except the manager,
and one or two of his clerks ; and one jug of whiskey alter
another was consumed by the seasoned and thirsty rovers who
composed the throng. Jagger was in the crowd, at least half
drunk. The liquor had not, however, allayed the bitterness
which had possessed him ever since the gray mare collared
the chestnut horse, and ran home a winner. Everybody and
everything was to blame, except himself; and he distributed
his blame with such plentiful impartiality, that nothing but
the prospect of more whiskey, and perhaps a row, prevented
Kirby and Keeps from leaving him to " paddle his own canoe,"
as the former expressed it. He was loud and severe against
Staples as a trainer. The clamor of his complaints and up-
braidings had driven the old man to leave his company. In
default of a better, he now seized upon Sassafras as a listener,
and declaimed, with droning vehemence and ludicrous senti-
ment, upon his own knowledge and experience, and the stu-
pidity and obstinacy of Staples and his men. If his own sug-
gestions had been followed, the horse could hardly have lost,
though the riding of him was wretched, and simply disgusting
to one who knew what riding was.
" What you say is true in the main," said Sassafras, with
apparent candor ; " but you could hardly expect science and
168 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
•
skill here, such as you have picked up, year after year, at
Epsom, Newmarket, aod where not. I say you look for too
much, and try us by too high a standard. We are well enough
in our way."
" Ay ! but it's a d d bad way !" cried Jagger. " Was
there ever a race thrown away like this before? No condition,
no management, no riding, no nothing. I protest to you, Sas-
safras, that you are the only man in these parts with a bit of
sense. You appreciate my abilities and acquirements, and
you are the only one, unless it be the red man at your elbow,
who seems to be interested in what I say."
" Yes, Cinnamon is interested in your remarks — deeply in-
terested, considering that he can hardly understand the lan-
guage. But fill up, and let us drink all round : To the turf
and the races thereof— may the best horses always win !"
" And that's what they never can do, as long as ignorance
and folly have charge of them," said Jagger, after doing jus-
tice to the toast. " Staples isn't fit to train a plough-horse, to
say nothing of a racer. I could teach you a good deal. Sassa-
fras. You are tractable, and not above learning from a man
like me. In six months I could make a man of you. But
you overestimate that gray mare — you do indeed !"
" It may be so," returned Sassafras. " I raised her myself,
and it is but natural that I should think well of her. She
isn't Flying Childers nor Eclipse ; but for the wooden country
she was bred in and the sort of races we run out here the mare
is a good one."
" Good one ! You mean that there's nothing but very bad
'uns to try her with," said Jagger, with a snarl. " Why, she
couldn't win a hunter's plate in any county in England ; and
if she ran for a saddle and bridle at Barnet Fair, I doubt
whether she could pull it off. There's better than her in stage
coaches and doctors' gigs where I came from."
" Very likely !" cried Sassafras, " but she can beat any horse
west of the big river (save one) two or three-mile heats, weight
for age." With this he rose and struck the table with his nst.
Jagger rose too, and their loud voices in opposition to each
other stilled the brawling in other parts of the store, and drew
the men around them. Hunters and Indians, half drunk,
ready with the knife and pistol on small occasions, hemmed
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 169
them in. The broad-shouldered Kirby and the lithe, snaky
Keeps ranged themselves with Jagger. Cinnamon and Pierre
Langlois stood with Sassafras, and young Campau was close
behind him.
" I say, and mean no offence, only a fair race, if anybody
wants to take it up and make it, that she can beat any horse
save one west of the big river, weight for age, two or three-
mile heats. Is that fair ?" said Sassafras.
"It is good," replied Cinnamon.
" Then if anybody wants it, I'll make the match for a
thousand dollars a side."
" Say save none ! You might as well, for there is not one
can beat Virginia, the flower of St. Jo. !" said young Campau.
" Was there ever such stuff as this talked before ?" said Jag-
ger, with much disgust. " Why, a winner of the Oaks could
not be more highly spoken of."
" There have been some not half as good," replied Sassa-
fras.
" I've been mistaken in this man," said Jagger to Kirby.
" He's a bigger fool than you, or Staples."
The hunter was about to make a rough and rude reply, when
Keeps interfered :
" Listen ! listen ! Sassafras is going to speak. Hear all and
say nothing." ,
" The challenge is made, coupled with the exception. What
I said I'll stand to. Any horse west of the Mississippi river
except one," said Sassafras.
" And what one may the excepted horse be ?" asked Jagger.
" Well, sir ! your own — the White Horse. I have a high
opinion of him, and cannot tell how good he may be," replied
Sassafras. " Besides, with the science and skill of Epsom and
Newmarket against her in the way of training, Virginia
would be under another great disadvantage. Therefore the
exception holds."
" Keeps, this man is no fool !" said Jagger. He then ex-
claimed : " Sassafras, you are a good fellow, and fairly wise for
your limited experience. I'll treat all hands upon it."
There was a hum of applause, and the butts of several rifles
fell upon the floor, testifying the emphatic approbation of their
owners at this announcement. They drank, and drank deeply.
170 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
Jagger began to brag of the races he had won and the feats
he had performed with the White Horse in England.
" He is responi^ible for the deaths of two noblemen, and was
the cause of the breaking up of the ministry," said Jagger.
" They couldn't pay their losses when he won the Ascot Cup.
One of 'em took prussic acid, and the other blowed his brains
out at the Lord Mayor's dinner-table. Sassafras had better
not match him, I can tell you."
"You're right, Mr. Grosvernor," said Sassafras. "Prussic
acid wouldn't agree with me, and I've a notion it's better to
blow out another man's brains than my own. If I was to
match Virginia against your horse I should want a heap
of odds in the weights as well as the stakes. He looks like a
grand horse, and I reckon you have got him into fine con-
dition."
" I have, by following my own method. I have refused to
listen to Staples, and have got the horse in better order than
you ever saw a racer before. I was my own trainer in
England."
" I told Black Dick how it was," said Sassafras. " I said
this horse has had the grand preparation by the English
method." (He had really said : " Dick, there's a horse that
looks w^ell outwardly, but he's fat inside, and couldn't last in a
good race.") "However," continued Sassafras, "next to win-
ning with a right good horse is being beaten by one. Since
the horse is so famous, and has come so far, it would be a pity
to let him go away without running against him once. We
are up here in the woods and out on the prairies, and few of
us may ever see one of his stamp again. Kow, if you'll give
me forty pounds the best of the weights, and bet me two to
one in the stakes, I'll run Virginia against him, two-mile
heats."
" I could beat her easily enough," said Jagger, " for I should
ride him myself; but I'll make no match of that sort."
" I have another proviso to mention," said Sassafras. " If
I lose, as no doubt I shall, you shall tell me all about your
method of training. Give us some more whiskey here, and
we'll have a match somehow."
Jagger drank again, and then held a whispering consulta-
tion with Kirby and Keeps. These worthies strongly advised
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 171
the making of another match, seeing in it the probable source
of much \Yhiskey and some money. But Keeps protested
against acceding to the terms mentioned by Sassafras. " Let
us," said he, " hold out for even weights. The odds in money
is nothing. It makes no difference what you lay when you are
dead sure to win. Sassafras will refuse to strike hands for
even weights, but you can afford to stand out as long as he
can. The night is young yet, and we're in no hurry."
" That's it !" said Kirby. " I'll stay here all night before
anybody shall get the better of Mr. Grosvernor in anything.
Meantime there's plenty of whiskey in the store, and by call-
ing for it often we can make Sassafras drunk. Once get him
drunk, and he'll agree to anything you may choose to stand out
for. Eh, Keeps ?"
The latter made no reply, but his look seemed to intimate
that in a drinking match between Jagger and Sassafras, the
former would be drunk first. Eeturning to the group in the
centre of the room, Jagger said : " I will make this race on
the condition that each horse shall carry the weights for The
Whip at Newmarket, ten stun, which is one hundred and forty
pounds, you know. My horse holds The Whip now. I chal-
lenged for it, named him, and it was resigned by the Duke of
Grafton without a race. I was sorry for the Duchess," con-
tinued the veracious Jagger, "as an old friend, I may say rela-
tive. She was much vexed at their having to give up the
trophy. In fact, I brought the White Horse from England
in order that, he being out of the way, the Duke may have a
chance to win the prize again. He had none whatever while
I was there."
" I should think not ! but what has that got to do with a
race between us, four thousand miles away ?" said Sassafras.
" It has this to do," replied Jagger, pompously : " I should
lose standing in the Jockey Club, if I ran the winner of The
Whip with less than ten stun."
, " I don't ask you to carry less," said Sassafras ; " but I
reckon the Jockey Club w'on't care what an old gray mare,
owned on the outskirts of the American settlements, and run
in the Indian country, carries. Let the horse carry one hun-
dred and forty pounds, and the mare one hundred pounds.
That will be the fair thing!"
172 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
" I will make no matcli if it be not even weights, ten stun
each," replied Jagger. " I don't care about running here at
all, especially heats. There's a sort of barbarity in it, and it'll
be positive cruelty to the mare in this instance."
" Well, she may save her bacon by cooking mine, and get
clean distanced in the first heat," said Sassafras.
" I may choose to distance her, or I may not," said Jagger,
complacently. "If I make a waiting race, she will not be
distanced ; if the horse comes away with the running, she will
be. But it would be an inglorious conquest for me, and I do
not care about running the horse at all. I have trained him
for amusement merely, and would not match him at home for
less than a thousand guineas a side."
" There must be a heap of money in your country ; we are
poor folks here," returned the border man. " Still, if we can
agree about weights, I'll try to make it worth your while, by
consenting that the winner shall have both horses, as well as
the stakes. Now you will give me the forty pounds?"
" I'll give nothing ! nothing ! I hate giving !" cried Jagger.
" Nobody proposes to give anything to me."
*' Ain't there though ?" said Kirby, aside. " I've promised
you a h — 1 of a licking, for cheating me at cribbage, and then
blackguarding me to the old man."
" Look here !" said Keeps to Jagger, " split the difference,
and give him twenty pounds in weight. What's the odds,
when you are sure to win ?"
" AVhy, certainly it nuitters but little, for a ton would not
bring the horses together, under the different methods of train-
ing," replied Jagger. " But I concede nothing in the way of
weight. It is a condescension in me, which Sassafras don't
deserve, to make a race with him at all, and if I do it, I'll
have my way."
The Western man heard the latter part of Jagger's remarks,
and a biting reply had almost escaped him. He controlled
his rising auger, however, and said, " Why ! I thought it was
altogether different in your country. We have heard that
there, if a man was passably well behaved, and had the horse
to do it, he could run and win against the very best in the
land. They have told us that Eclipse himself, though bred
by a royal duke, was owned and run by a butcher ; and I have
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 173
heard say that the prize-fighter who licked Gregson has often
in races beat George the King."
" Not in matches, young man !" returned Jagger, snappishly.
" A gentleman of my rank and standing in the country would
hardly condescend to make a match with you in England."
" I reckon that's so !" replied Sassafras, significantly. " But
here w^e are in America, four or five thousand miles from Eng-
land, and well on towards the heart of the continent. If it
comes to rank and standing here, Cinnamon is the greatest
man among us. But that's neither here nor there. What
you propose as to weights is hardly reasonable. Virginia
would have to carry thirty or forty pounds of dead weight,
enough to beat almost any horse."
" Ride her yourself, and she need carry none. I intend to
ride the White Horse," replied Jagger.
" I reckon it would be hardly wise for me to ride against
you, from what I have seen of you in the saddle. Newmarket
against St. Jo. is too steep, unless it was in a bufiTalo hunt. I
ought, by rights, to have another Englishman to ride against
you, but I'll warrant you can't tell me where to get one who
is qualified just now. Therefore, you ought to give twenty
pounds in weight, as against Black Dick, to say nothing of
the difierence between our horses. Come here, Dick !"
The one eye of the negro had flashed from Sassafras to
Jagger, and from the latter to Sassafras, like a dancing jack-
o'-lantern in a dark night, during the latter part of the dis-
cussion. He stood on the outer circle of the listeners, but his
master now stretched forth his hand and hauled him into the
centre of the throng, saying :
" Do you think I ought to run Virginia against the White
Horse at less than thirty or forty pounds, Dick ?"
" I think I nebber run 'e mar' agen 'e White Horse at all.
A darkey knows beans when cle bag is open !" replied Dick.
" Good, ebony, good ! Give the blackamoor a drink, there !"
cried Jagger.
" AVho 'e call blackamoor ?" said Dick, in his sulkiest tone.
" Don't raise 'e blackamoor in Ole Virginia, I reckon."
"Never mind !" said Sassafras. " Drink to Mr. Grosvernor
and the White Horse ! And never contradict a gentleman of
high degree from the old country, if he should be pleased to
call you the d — 1 himself."
174 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
" De debbel hisself no fool !" said the black ; " 'e nebber
run agen 'e White Horse !"
There was a laugh as Dick said this, and Jagger "was espe-
cially merry.
" You hear ',vhat the boy says — how can you insist on even
weights ?" said Sassafras.
" For the same reason that you desire to run- heats — it's my
fancy ; and I'll have the match no other way," replied Jagger.
" NVait a few minutes, and I'll decide," said Sassafras.
He took aside Cinnamon, Campau and Black Dick, to hold
a consultation in his turn. Campau talked rapidly in whis-
pers. The Indian delivered his opinion in just six words :
" Virginia beat the Snake-Eye's horse !" Black Dick was
understood by the by-stauders to urge objections and remon-
strances to the end, but they were overruled by Campau. Sas-
fras looked grave. He weighed the reasons advanced by his
followers, and, as usual with great men and commanders,
found none sufficient to set aside the resolution he had come
to before he asked his friends and subordinates for their advice.
He passed into the centre of the eager throng and said :
" Mr. Grosvernor, I accept the conditions — Virginia against
the White Horse at even weights, one hundred and forty
pounds each, one thousand dollars a side in money, and the
winner to take both horses. To run this day week ; two-mile
heats."
"Very well!" said Jagger, after having been whispered to
by Keeps and Kirby ; " but the match shall be play or pay,
and the money shall be put up now."
This was agreed to. The minute was made and the money
staked with the manager.
" What a fool he is !" said Jagger, as Sassafras left the place
with Black Dick.
As they passed along towards their own camp they came
suddenly upon Cinnamon, Pierre Langlois and the young
Kiowa. Sassafras was about to seize the latter, but thought
better of it. He said good-night to the chief and went on
towards his own camp. As they neared it the one-eyed black
spoke :
" Massa, I don't know 'bout dis yere match. The folks
away down in Ole Virginia alius say de good English horse
. THE WRITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 175
can beat de good horse of de States. Dey say dat in King
George."
" I know it," said Sassafras, " and we are in deep water now.
But it's to be heats, Dick ; and that fellow can neither train
nor ride. You can outride him."
" Ay, but de dead weight — forty pounds. Besides, I brieve
dat White Horse to be a good 'un. I see him run through
dat stretch faster than a buck. I brieve he outrun de mar'
anywhere."
" But it's heats, and he'll be in no condition."
" De mar' '11 be in no condition when she's carried me and
forty pounds dead weight two miles."
" Hush ! I hear a man in the bushes. Say nothing to any-
body, especially as to their horse's want of condition."
The man in the bushes was Captain Staples. He was not
in an amiable frame of mind. Jagger's talk had enraged
him ; he was suspicious of Sassafras, and he was irritated be-
cause he had been waiting long. The Western man dismissed
the negro and said :
" Well, captain, what's the word to-night ?"
" The first word is that I want two hundred and fifty dollars
of you," said Staples. " You have drawn the money, and
short settlements make long friends."
"Drawn the money — yes! but I have staked it again, and
as much more, to make up your part in a match for a thousand
a side."
" My part ! Who gave you authority to make matches for
me ?" said Staples.
" You did. Are we not partners in this little scheme to
relieve Reginald What-you-may-call of some of his ready
money ?"
" That's as may turn out. I doubt whether your old mare
can beat that White Horse the race you've made."
" You know what it is, then ?" said Sassafras.
" Ay, I heard of it as soon as you agreed, and have been in
the brush on the hill, like a fox prowling round a camp-fire,
ever since. The Cheyennes came near where I lay once ; it
was well they didn't stumble on me."
" It was, captain," said Sassafras ; " for if they had, your
scalp would have been at one of their belts by this time, in the
event of your bringing on a fight."
176 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK ,
" It might. They're here in numbers, and the chief is as
sassy as if the continent was owned by him. But W'hat a fool
you were to agree to carry a hundred and forty pounds ! The
old mare will be licked into fits, unless something is done."
" I don't say she isn't beatable, but I couldn't stand the
bragging of that English lord. I am an American — a man
raised in Old Virginia — and nobody shall overcrow me without
being called to show his hand."
" I honor them sentiments," said Captain Staples. " My
patriotism is well known, too, and I'll show it by keeping as
much of this British gold in the country as I can. But what
possessed you to make such a fool's match as this ? You've got
nobody to ride."
" There's lead enough at the fort, to make Black Dick the
weight," said Sassafras.
" Black Dick — black devil ! The Englishman has ridden
in matches for thousands of guineas — at least he says so —
and shall Black Dick, with forty pounds of dead weight, be
put up against him?"
"What can I do?"
" Pay forfeit. The Englishman will then be so full of con-
ceit that he'll make another match on better terms for you,
and for twice as much, I say, pay forfeit."
" There is no forfeit. The match is, play or pay. The
money up."
" Then the Englishman has got you," said Staples, with a
show of disgust. " I'm d d if you ain't damaged the
Western turf and disgraced the country worse nor Old Hull
when he surrendered to the British and that red devil Tecum-
seh. I ain't in it, and I must have my money before it comes
off."
" I might very well dispute that, and the forty Cheyennes
would stand by me," said Sassafras ; " but take your own
way. You always undervalued the mare. Suit yourself as
to whether you'll go in or not. You musn't play fast and
loose up to the race though. In three days I must have your
answer — ay or no. If you say no, I shall be able to carry
it on alone ; and then, sink or swim, let the hardest fend off."
" But you've no right to carry it on alone, if you can carry
it on to win," said Staples. " I brought the Englishman and
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 177
his money up into this country, and have got a lien upon 'em.
Nobody must disregard my rights."
"Nobody wants to."
" They had better not want to. No race will come off, if
I tell the Englishman not to run."
" Perhaps not," said Sassafras. " But in that case a thou-
sand dollars of his gold and his White Horse will come off.
Keeps advised the making of it play or pay, and the gentle-
man insisted upon it."
" Keeps is a villain and Kirby is a bull-head ; I tell you
that in confidence, though I dare say you have suspected as
much yourself," said the old man. After a pause, he added :
" I'd sooner be in with you than anybody. Sassafras. In deep
— and safe, safe ! You work the mare three or four days, and
then I'll tell you what I propose to do. AYork her good and
strong four days."
" I said I wanted your answer in three days — four will not
do," said Sassafras.
" Well, well 1 You young men are so suspicious of your elders,
not to say betters — I mean in wisdom and virtue. You might
trust to my honor for six days, I should think, if it came to
that. But you young men lack faith and confidence in other
people. It's a great misfortune. When I was your age, I
was the confidingest mortal that ever was. But the world has
growed worse fast since then."
" Looking at what you are now, I should think it has," said
Sassafras. " But never mind, captain ! We will endeavor to
recoup ourselves for the degeneracy of all, by winning this
man's thousands, and a good deal more."
" Out of each thousand won, I am to have six hundred," said
Staples. " That is the agreement, you know."
" Ay ! and I know you are to have the Englishman's horse
in your stable," said Sassafras. " But, Staples, I'm opposed
on principle to dosing."
" Dosing be d d ! who said anything about dosing ?" said
Staples. " I hate to hear the thing mentioned, especially when
a bucket of water or the accidental slipping of the muzzle may
do just as w^ell. Work the mare — work her good and strong !
I begin to think she may win. Good-night !"
As the old man moved off rapidly, Sassafras stood and looked
12
178 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
after him, until his form was lost in the dusky light and mist
that hung over the prairie. The slight rustle of leaves and
boughs in the bushes close at hand caught the Western man's
ear, and he saw the young Kiowa stealing swiftly but cautiously
away. With a bound like the spring of a panther, Sassafras
went through the underbrush, and took after him. The youth
was swift of foot, but not so swift as the powerful frontier man,
especially over the broken ground and through the bushes.
The latter gained on the boy, whose hard breathing he could
already hear. His hand was ready to be stretched out to
grasp the flying youth, when another figure suddenly started
up, and caught Sassafras in its arms. It was the Indian
chief.
CHAPTER XX.
'Kingly his crest, and towards the West,
With his battle-axe he pointed."
IT was the golden evening of the w^estern day towards the
fall of the year, and the foliage of the woods was rich with
varied tints, and full of gorgeous colors. The sun touched
the horizon in the west, and fell upon a slope of wooded laud
which declined into a thickly-timbered valley. Some of the
trees, without having lost their freshness, seemed to have
caught the rich hues of the sky. The great white-oaks, how-
ever, retained their glossy green. In the large black-walnut
trees the squirrels were busy, as if preparing for and rejoicing
over the harvest which was ripening on the wide-spreading
branches. A light breeze played among the boughs of the
loftiest trees and rustled the crimson leaves of the gigantic
creepers which had twined and wreathed to the tops of the
monarchs of the wood. It did not reach the young saplings
which had sprung up thick from the rich mould of so many
generations of their ancestors. Here at once went on the
shoot of infancy, the rise of aspiring youth, the strength of
middle life, the ripening of autumn, the wither of age, and
the rot, mould and decay from which sprang the resurrection.
And thus, saith the great poet of antiquity, it was with the
human species :
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 179
" Like leaves on trees the race of man is found,
Now green in youth, now withering on the ground."
Upou this wooded slope Francois and Tom Scarlet had lit
their camp-fire at the close of the first day's hunt. It had
been successful. Several turkeys had fallen to the buckshot
from the smooth-bore of the young Englishman, and a small
ball from the heavy rifle of the Frenchman had brought a
fat buck down. Their kettle had sung merrily over the crack-
ling fire, the venison steaks had been toasted, the evening meal
was done. The sun had gone down over the hills and woods
which stretched away like the dark billows of a great green
sea towards the west. The stars came out in the clear sky
unveiled by cloud or mist. Upon the still air of the open
places of the woods the scent of wild flowers and fragrant
shrubs was quickened by the falling dew. A drowsy hum of
insects was heard in the low leaves ; the owl swept by on noise-
less wing and disappeared again like a spectre among the sil-
very trunks of the trees. Once the long howl of the wolf
came fi'om the rugged ground of the pass above. The plain-
tive cry of whip-poor-will was often heard from the depths
of the forest, as in warning or lament over the sojourners in
the w^aste.
" How beautiful the night is, Francois ! How grand and
solemn these great w'oods seem in which we are alone — all, all
alone !" said Tom Scarlet. " It was worth the voyage from
England and the journey from the sea-coast to be in such a
scene. It seems as though we, of all men, had been admitted
by nature into one of her secret, solitary places to see and feel
her truths. Franyois, the Druids and the old Scandinavian
races did well to make the deep oak woods their solemn tem-
ples."
" It may be so," replied the Frenchman, " but you may find
some things here natural, withal, but not pleasant. Throw a
blanket over your shoulders, and then draw into the curl of
the smoke and heat of the fire as I do. The calmness and
beauty of the night are hardly greater than its danger to one
unacclimated like you. These still, beautiful nights in the
early fall sow the poison which ferments in the blood to bring
on the deadly chill and the consuming fever."
" So I have heard you say before. Yet it seems hardly pos-
180 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
sible that, under such a sky, and in such a scene, glorious but
now \Yith the splendor of the dying day, danger can lurk. We
are upon the upland."
" And therefore more exposed to the breath which breeds
the fever than if we were in the valley, or on a bit of dry
ground in the middle of a swamp. The places and the hours
most beautiful are here, like the tiger and the painted snake,
the most dangerous. In a night of storm you would run no
risk."
" But for all that, I cannot but admire the beauty of the
star-lit sky, as I see it from beneath the arms of the mighty
oak under which we rest, and feel the influence of the time
and scene."
" Tom," said Frangois, with decision, " we cannot afford to
have you laid up with the bilious fever, or even with the ague,
active or dumb ; therefore, a cup of whiskey, well-flavored with
the snake-root and the bitter bark of the wauhu, thence to bed
upon the green brush, wa^apped in a horseman's blanket, and
with your feet to the glowing fire."
" The dose is very unpalatable, Franyois, but I owe it to
Sassafras and you to be careful, so I'll take it."
The still night wore on. Tired by the exertions of the day,
satisfied by a full meal of venison, and all alone, as they
believed, the Englishman and the Frenchman, born of the
civilization of the west of Europe, where commerce, the sci-
ences, and the arts had made their home, while the owls and
foxes inherited the temples and palaces of the east, slept side
by side in the land of the stranger. It was past the hour of
twelve, the dead time of the night. The fire had burned low ;
there was no longer a blaze to cast its cheerful glare abroad
into the bushes. The slumber of the Englishman was less
profound, and through the restless brain there were visions
swiftly passing. He dreamed of home and some vague calamity ;
of fire on shipboard — " 'twixt the green sea and the azur'd
vault," — of Indian raids and midnight massacres ; he heard
the war-whoop ringing through the arches of the forest— saw
the wild riders rushing like a whirlwind over the prairie to
swoop down upon their prey. At leugth he awoke, and turned
upon his back. Looking down upon him as he lay there stood
a tall Indian, leaning on his gun. The young man sprang up
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 181
with a cry to Fran9ois. The Indiau, without moviDg, said in
broken English :
" What fears the Golden Bough ? The Cheyenne is his
friend. He looked upon the faces of those who slept, and they
were safe."
" Cinnamon," said FraD9ois, " as a friend we know you ; but
what brings you here to-night?"
" The friend of Sassafras from the great river and the
Golden Bough shall hear," replied the Indian. " But I will
call my companion."
He put his hand to his mouth, and uttered a peculiar cry.
An answer was heard at no great distance. In a few moments
there was a rustling of the bushes, and the young Kiowa,
painted as a brave upon his first war-path, came into the circle
of light. Francois started, and said :
" Has the chief of the Cheyennes made ready the battle-
axe, and prepared to loosen the arrow from the string of the
bone bow ?"
" No," replied the Indian, pointing to the youth ; " but the
Young Eagle of the Kiowas, who live among the lofty
mountains, whose horses drink above the Great Bend and of
the sweet waters of the great river of the South, was pursued
by Sassafras. The chief of the Cheyennes stayed the white
man's hand, and kept the Young Eagle from his grasp. Was
it good, Franyois ? Say, O ! Golden Bough, was it good ?"
" It was ; for Cinnamon is wise and just," said Francois.
*' Sassafras is his friend. They struck the Sioux together, and
they mingled with the dark waters of the river the blood of
the Blackfeet warriors."
" It is true," said the Indian. " In the morning Francois
and the Golden Bough shall turn upon their trail, and rejoin
Sassafras. The Wolverine and the Snake-Eyes have put a
cloud between Sassafras and the Cheyennes. With the Young
Eagle of the Kiowas I will rest by your fire till the sun has
risen over the great river, and touched the hill-tops. Is Cin-
namon welcome?"
" He is," replied Fran9ois, while Tom Scarlet took the hand
of the chief. The Frenchman added to Tom, " Mischief is
brewing through the acts of Staples. But that Sassafras,
knowing the man, should have listened to him, passes my com-
prehension."
182 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
" Ay, and Jagger too !" said Tom Scarlet. " The chief calls
him the Snake-Eyes, and mentioned him also."
" If Sassafras has allowed them to bring him into feud with
Cinnamon, he has gone crazy," said Fran9ois. " But I can-
not believe it ; I will not, unless he says so himself."
" The cloud will pass away," said the proud Cheyenne, " and
the dark shadow of the night give place to the brightness of
the ripening day. Let the Golden Bough tell me of his coun-
try beyond the great salt water ; of the home of his fathers,
and of the fair maiden of his love. Let the Indian of the
wide plains and lofty mountains hear of the island of the sea."
With this he filled his pipe and began to smoke, while the
young Kiowa, who had hitherto stood rather aloof, advanced
and seated himself by his side.
" Tom, do you amuse the chief!" said Francois. " He will
understand almost all you say. He has come, you see, to stop
the breeding of bad blood between himself and Sassafras. We
■will all start back soon after it is light. While you interest
the chief, I will talk to the Young Eagle of the Kiowas."
" Franyois," said Cinnamon, " the eagle understands not the
cry of the hawk, or the call of the swan in the morning mist,
when the snow lies on the mountain tops. No white man, and
but few Indians of other tribes, have learned the tongue of
the Kiowas. Those you have heard talked the language of
the Comanches. The Young Eagle speaks only as his fathers
spoke ; his ears are open to no other tongue."
" That's true enough, as far as it goes," said Francois. " I
have always heard that mortal man, whether red, white or
black, could never master the lingo spoken by the Kiowas as
their own. Go on, Tom."
The young Englishman was always ready to talk of his
country and his friends. He now spoke of such things as he
believed to be most likely to interest the Indian and the white
hunter who heard him. The little island in the stormy seas,
with its white cliffs gleaming through the mist ; the beauties
of its hills and dales, its woods and pleasant homes ; its vast
population and inestimable wealth ; the stately buildings of
London ; the hoary edifices of Oxford, solemn and grand in
their venerable antiquity ; the princely country-houses and
parks, Blenheim and Stowe. And then he told of the enor-
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 183
mous commerce and possessions of vast extent all over the
globe ; of England's powerfid fleets ; of Y/aterloo, and the
Irish major, a friend of his own, who had lost an arm and won
a medal there ; of Sir Jerry and Lady Snaffle, and her
father, the fine old Admiral, who had sailed and fought all his
life ; of John Bullfinch, and his daughter May, and all the
pleasant walks about Hawkwell ; of his own home, the lone
Grange, near the wild heath ; of the green lanes and shady
nooks, where the gypsies camped, and he had often lingered
by the tents to play with the young children and laugh with
the dark-eyed maidens just come from the copse a-nutting.
And thus his tale and talk went on, as such do in many a hut
and tent in distant lands, and on the decks of many ships in
far-off waters, until the young Kiowa rose abruptly and broke
up the narrative by throwing a pile of brush on the fire.
When Sassafras found on the preceding night that it was
Cinnamon who held him in his grasp, and prevented him from
further pursuit of the Kiowa youth, he was surprised and a
little indignant. When the chief released him he demanded
an explanation, which was what the Indian could not give.
He pointed to the route the boy had taken, and said, with a
low voice :
" The son of the great chief of the Kiowas is the guest and
friend of the Cheyennes. He must be as safe as at his father's
side, with five hundred horsemen of his tribe around him.
Cinnamon must keep him from harm at the hand of Sassafras."
" Harm !" replied the latter ; " who wants to harm him ? I
think he should be made to mind his own business, that's all.
I wish he was safe enough with his father, whoever that may
be. I saw the great chief of the Kiowas, when he watered
his horses in the Red river, and I do not believe this sprig of
maple to be his son. Cinnamon, you are deceived in him !
The boy is not what he seems, and I conceive that he is some
sort of a spy. He was lurking about to hear what passed
between Staples and me, not a quarter of an hour ago."
" Cinnamon is not deceived," replied the chief " I will
answer for this boy. My life is the pledge for his truth. Why
should you think he was there to listen ? The young Kiowa
understands no English."
" And I say this boy understands English as well as, if not
184 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
better than, you do. He was hid in the brush, like a fox,
while I was talking with Staples, and it was not until the old
man had gone that he tried to steal in silence away."
" It was near your camp ! Sassafras, I think he wanted to
look upon the guest of my friend. He likes to see the Golden
Bough, the first Englishman he ever met, except the Snake-
Eyes, whom he despises. I will find out."
The chief went up the hill. Sassafras, somewhat angry, and
much perplexed, sought his tent for repose.
It was night again. After a busy day spent TN'ith Jules,
Black Dick and the favorite gray mare Virginia, the border
man sat by the fire in front of his tent. The night was clear
and star-lit, the air brisk and chilly. The half-breed boy from
the fort was at the shoulder of Sassafras, as the latter read and
re-read a brief note he had brought,
" You say Campau gave you this, Joe ? Did he send any
message about it, or about anybody ?"
" He say, ' Take this to Sassafras. Let him read alone and
do what is said.' "
"It is in the same hand, and comes from the same person as
the other letter you brought here, Joe."
" Yes, from Campau — he give it to me."
" Joe, is the young Kiowa with Campau ?" said Sassafras.
" He is not. I have not to-day seen him — nor yesterday.
I like not the Kiowa. His tribe killed my fader above the
Big Bend, because he was a white man, like you."
" Well, you'll be man enough to get even some of these
days," replied Sassafras. " The note makes a good sugges-
tion — one that I ought to have thought of before, whoever the
writer may be. I may take it, and better the instruction.
Joe, good-night. Tell no one you were here or that anybody
sent a letter from the fort."
The boy nodded and went silently off into the darkness,
with the footfall of a cat, and an eye as capable of seeing at
such times as those of the feline tribes, the night wanderers.
By the large but fading fire. Sassafras sat smoking and mus-
ing until it was near midnight. He was about to rise
and enter his tent, when his quick ear caught the tread of
horses on the saddle which joined the two hills, and formed
the background of the valley in which he had made his camp.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 185
It was a sound he never mistook, for from his earliest boy-
hood the step of the horse had been music in his ears. He
seized his rifle, withdrew into the shade, and awaited the new-
comers. As they approached, he found from the voices with
which they conversed in low and guarded tones, that the
horsemen were Francois and Tom Scarlet.
" Hail, friends ! why so soon returned ? Are there no deer
in the woods ? Does no track of elk point for the Neosho ?"
" There were deer, there were turkeys — the hunting would
have been good," replied Fran9ois, as they dismounted, " but.
Sassafras, we came back at the bidding of Cinnamon, who
reached us last night, after the turning of the time well to-
wards the coming day."
" Yes, we were sleej^ing by our fire," said Tom Scarlet. " I
had dreamed bad dreams, and when I awoke the Cheyenne
chief was looking down upon me as I lay."
"Ay!" exclaimed Sassafras. "But that I know the chief,
I might have thought such dreams would have been no worse
than the awakening by brand and beneath glittering steel.
Frangois, how was it that you let an Indian come upon your
camp in such a manner that he might have lifted your scalps
and gone again, unheard, unseen, as the light wind of the
night goeth ?"
" I knew you would say that," replied the Frenchman. " It
is provoking, and I do not think any one but Cinnamon could
have found our fire and come upon us unheard. I am a light
sleeper, and the rustle of the leaves by anything other than
the wind will awaken me. The truth is, we were tired by our
fast journey and a long hunt afterwards. I had no thought
that there was Indian or white man within many miles of us
when we laid down to rest."
"And Cinnamon brought you back ? For what purpose?"
" Speak, Tom ; you know what he said," replied Francois.
" I will," said Tom Scarlet. " He thought we ought to
return here. Sassafras, to remove a difference — a sort of mis-
understanding — which has arisen between you and him. He
says the Wolverine and the Snake-Eyes have put a cloud
before the eyes of his friend, and evil may come of it."
" The cloud is before his own eyes," said Sassafras. " I too
have been like one from whom things were hid by mist, but I
186 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
now see the light through the breaks and rifts. Look here !
This note, received by me a short time ago — two or three
hours — is signed by the name of Camj^au, but the hand is that
of the writer who sent us letters from New Orleans. This
letter-writer I believe to be the boy now masquerading here,
as if it was Mardi-gras, in the form of a youug Kiowa. He
raised the cloud between Cinnamon and me."
"Sassafras, it cannot be," said Fran9ois. "The young
Kiowa came with Cinnamon to our camp last night, and has
but now returned. We left them behind yonder hill, and I
doubt whether they have reached their own camp yet."
" Then I am again at sea," replied Sassafras. " I thought I
had it all clear before you came back, although I was told the
Kiowa had not been seen at the fort these two days. I am
now like the justice, when the last witness had involved the
case in contradiction and confusion. ' It was,' said his honor,
* plain enough until you thrust your spoke into the wheel to
bother the court and everybody else. I've a great mind to
fine and commit you for contempt.' But you must be tired
and hungry. Call the boys to look to your horses. Eat,
drink and rest. I will see the chief myself to-night. It
grows late,
"'But, notwithstanding, haste, make no delay:
We may complete this business yet ere day.'"
AVith this quotation on his lips, the borderer arose and
walked away. Tom Scarlet would have stopped him, but the
Frenchman interposed to prevent, saying it was better Sassa-
fras and the chief should meet speedily, and alone. He
ascended the hill with long strides, and overlooking from the
summit the fires of the Indians in the valley below he saw two
horsemen alight near the centre of the camp. Putting his
forefingers into his mouth, Sassafras whistled so loud and
shrill that the Cheyennes started from their slumbers, and the
echoes awoke among the neighboring hills.
" He comes !" said Cinnamon to the Kiowa youth. " It is
good. Let the Young Eagle go into the tent, and see not the
white warrior of the great river and the chief of the Chey-
ennes until tlie cloud between them has passed away !"
The youth made no reply, save by a pressure of the hand.
He moved ofi' to another tent, and entered it, before Sassafras
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 187
came np to the one near which Cinnamon stood. When these
two met they were both grave, it may be said dignified, for
the white man moved and spoke with conscious courage and
integrity ; while the Indian, with friendship and devotion
unimpaired, had also the sense of power.
" Sassafras is welcome to the camp of the Cheyennes," said
the chief. " It is his home — the home of his brother, whose
life he saved when the hatchet of the Sioux was swung."
" For the matter of that, Cinnamon, I owe my life twice
over to you," replied Sassafras. " But for your timely aid,
when my gun missed fire and the knife fell from my wounded
hand, my bones had been ground in the den of the great griz-
zly bear in the Rocky Mountains. And again, but for you
my scalp had been drying long ago in the smoke of a Black-
foot lodge, t'other side of Hell Gate Pass and the British
line."
" It's enough! We are friends ! We are brothers!" replied
Cinnamon. " I have said it, and sworn it by the head of the
Red Horse. The cloud has passed away. Sassafras has seen
the Golden Bough, for whose afl?airs the Cheyennes followed
their chief from the Fork of the Salmon. His enemies are
bad men. They are the enemies of Cinnamon and his young
men, and of Sassafras. Why should I not kill the Wolverine
and the Snake-Eyes before the sun pomes up from the hills
near the great river to look again upon his lands in the golden
w^est? We could then follow in his course."
It was not the first time Sassafras had heard something like
this proposition, but the Indian had never before come out so
« flat-footed," as the former called it. The truth was, the
chief was getting tired of inaction. A few sharp blows would
have pleased him much, and he could then have mustered his
band and turned their horses' heads toward the West with
great satisfaction. Sassafras, however, could not accede to this
method of settling the affair. As to Staples and Jagger, if it
became necessary to do so. Sassafras was fully resolved to " deal
with them in steel," as honest Touchstone hath it ; but his
present aim was to " overrun them with policy, and bandy
with them in treason."
"Cinnamon, it will not do; that is, not at present," said
he. " The work goes well. In four or five days we shall see
188 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOX.
the end. I think I shall win our -whole venture. If Staples
then chooses to draw and fight, he may. But he will not do
so. He fears you, and he fears me. His hope was to raise a
misunderstanding between us. That is futile. Those who
might venture to back him in some cases, will not do so here.
They are cowed by the presence of your band. The best of
them would wilt at the whoop of the wild Cheyennes when
your young men had their war-paint on."
The eye of the chief glowed proudly in the red light of the
fire, and yet he seemed to be a little disappointed that there was
no immediate chance of dealing with the AYolverine and the
Snake-Eyes, after his own summary plan.
*' Sassafras loves the Golden Bough as one of his own blood,"
said he, after a pause.
" You may well think so, yet he is no kin to me, and five
months ago I had not seen him. But we met. He was a
stranger, in a strange land ; come over the great salt waters
which are wider than all the plains. He was open-hearted
and free-spoken. Wrong had been done him in his own coun-
try. The Golden Bough had been rifled and robbed of fair
fruit by the Snake-Eyes, and had followed him to this land.
To prevent more wrong and utter failure, I took upon myself
the guiding of this business, and sent to you to meet us here."
" It is good," said the .Indian.
" It is. You came, the best and boldest of the chiefs who
hunt upon the plains between the great river and the lofty
mountains of the Rocky range."
" I say that it is good," replied Cinnamon. " When the
Wolverine and the Snake-Eyes are beaten, and the Golden
Bough goes with his own again to the great salt water, let
Sassafras ride with me and ray young men towards the West.
The buffalo in autumn are plenty on my plains as the leaves
on the trees. The elk of my hills are big and fat ; their antlers
are tall. The evening sky is very red when the sun goes over
the tops of the great mountains. When the snow lies upon
the plains there is grass for our horses in the parks. My tent
is very warm in the frosty days of the winter. Let my friend
send his Frenchmen and his black men to Missouri with the
Golden Bough, and ride with me to my home in the West."
" Cinnamon, I should like it of all things, and next year I
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK. 189
will try to arrange my affairs so that I can spend the winter
with you," replied Sassafras. " We will hunt the grizzly bears
again, just before they retire to their inaccessible holds to lie
and sleep through the cold weather."
" My friend shall be welcome as the melting of the snows in
spring, when the sun shines warm and large," said the Indian.
" Then here good-night. We meet to-morrow," said Sassa-
fras, as he left the chief.
CHAPTER XXI.
" Go, make thyself like a nymph o' the sea; be subject
To no sight but mine and thine."
THE plans of Sassafras had been changed in reference to
the race between the White Horse and the mare Virginia
by the note he received at night from the fort, and by the un-
expected but opportune return of Tom Scarlet and rran5ois.
Although it was very late when he returned from the Indian
camp, he was up soon after break of day, and arousing Tom
Scarlet and Frau9ois, he called them to a council in his tent.
' " It is," said he, " a good thing that you have returned, for
though there was no need of any pacificators between Cinna-
mon and me, there will be use for Tom that I did not think
of. You must, however, be still unknown to Jagger, Staples,
and all their set."
" Then your interview with the chief was satisfactory to you
both !" said Tom Scarlet.
" Entirely so ; in fact, there has been no trouble between
the chief and me, except a little difference of opinion as to that
boy. We have been friends so long, and stood together in
such dangers and difficulties, that no little matter would bring
us to a quarrel, or even to a coolness."
" Did you see the Kiowa last night?" said Francois.
" Xo. Tell me, what did he say or do — how did he look
and act when at your camp ?"
" He said nothing. He talks neither English nor Cheyenne,
you know," replied Tom Scarlet.
'' I know it is so said, but I don't believe a word of it," said
Sassafras. " How did he look and act ?"
190 TEE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON,
" He looked the same as before, but Fran9ois says he was in
Tvar-paint."
" War-paint ! What foolery is this ? I know that Cinna
mon isn't going to let him make war with me. I've a good
mind to arm young Joe, whose father was killed by the Kiowas
above the Great Bend, and let these two cockerells fight it
out !"
" It would be dangerous," said Franyois.
" It would," replied Sassafras. " If blood were once drawn
here, there is no knowing where the slaughter might stop.
Cinnamon himself proposed the killing of Staples and Jagger
last night. But why was the boy taken to your camp at all,
if he cannot understand what Cinnamon or anybody else says,
and nobody can understand him ?"
" We don't know," replied Tom Scarlet. " For my part, I
rather like the lad, and wish he could understand what I might
say to him. I have seen a smile under his paint and a grati-
fied look in his eye when I have made a kindly sign to him.
Last night, when I was talking about England, and my part
of the country, and friends at home, he sat by the side of Cin-
namon, muffled up in his blanket. But he was not asleep, for I
could see his eyes at times glowing like live coals as I told my
tale."
"Which he couldn't understand! Bah!" said Sassafras.
" But no more of him. Cinnamon says he's honest, and that's
enough for the present As he has left the fort for the camp,
you may enjoy more of his acquaintance, and commune to-
gether as the deaf and dumb do ; for you must abide with Cin-
namon until the race comes off. You have heard all about it
from the chief?"
" Yes ; that it is the mare against the White Horse, the
winner to have the two horses as well as the stakes. Sassa-
fras, I fear you have overmatched her. You don't know how
good the horse is."
" And you don't know how good the mare is, especially in
a second or third heat. Why, Tom, she'll win it easy. I don't
see how she can lose it, in the condition the horse will be.
When it is over, as your hunt has been cut short with Fran-
9ois, I'll take you on a hunt myself; and if we do not find
elk on this side of the Neosho, we will cross to the left bank.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK. 191
You shall have a set of antlers for Sir Jerry Snaffle's hall such
as was hardly ever seen in England, and another for the parlor
of John Bullfinch, that your lady-love may see the game \ve
sometimes follow in the West. Now to our immediate busi-
ness. I want you to answer me a few questions."
" As many as you please," said Tom.
" This Jagger gives out that he was a great tiirfman in Eng-
land. Is that so ?"
" Of course not. He laid a little money, as many men do
who can hardly tell a race-horse from a circus nag, and indeed
think the latter the better of the two. He was what we call * a
leg ;' that is, a rogue who cheats everybody he can, and is him-
self the fool and dupe of touts."
" Then he never won the Derby, running his horse under
another man's name ; never challenged for the Whip with this
White Horse, and had it resigned to him by the Duke of
Grafton, to the imminent danger of the life of the Duchess,
through sheer vexation ?"
« Derby ! Whip ! Does the villain say that?"
" Ay, does he ! and a great deal more. For instance, he
was sorry for the Duchess, a family connection of his own,
and brought the White Horse from England as a delicate way
of letting the Duke get possession of the Whip again. Now,
tell us what this Jagger really is."
« The biggest liar in all this land, for one thing," replied
Tom. " He was no horseman at home, and of no more use to
the turf than a rat is to a granary."
" Then he is not even a good rider — I mean in a race."
He ride a race — the humbu
" Just what I thought, Tom ; but he means to ride the White
Horse in this match."
" I wish it was a steeple-chase, so that he would have a fine
chance to break his neck."
" That might save the hangman some trouble one of these
days," said Sassafras, " unless he should hear the war-whoop
of the Cheyennes some fine night, and get frightened to death
while his neck is whole. Did he ever ride a race in England
of any sort ?"
" Certainly not ! No trainer would let such a muff get on a
race-horse, eVen if it was but to run for -a saddle and bridle en
192 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
some common at a country fair. He may have Keen in the
hunting-field a few times, for all sorts of people go out with
the hounds. But I'll bet a hundred to ten that May Bullfinch
would ' pound ' him in ten minutes over our grass lands and
stiff fences. He is an arrant imposter^that sort of bragging,
vaporing fellow who disgraces Old England in foreign lands."
" In the minds of the inconsiderate only," said Sassafras ;
" for reasonable men do not impute the follies of a blockhead
and the lies of a false knave to his country, whatever his
country may be. I have heard some Americans go on in the
West Indies in such a way that I was almost mad enough to
pistol 'em, or at least to knock 'em in the head and silence
'em for a while; but I never thought the worse of my country,
or my countrymen, on account of the braying of such native
jackasses as these. Therefore do not mind Jagger. He may
disgrace himself — England never. How did the man get
hold of such a stallion as the White Horse ?"
" By some transaction with a party who was hard up, and
about to sponge out accounts by going through the insolvent
debtors' court. I don't believe he was ever on his back in
England. He can't ride a bit. Let me ride the mare. Sassa-
fras. It'll be the richest go that ever was for me to ride Vir-
ginia ; for I'll manage it so that the White Horse shall run
away with Jagger, and perhaps bolt the course and get dis-
tanced."
" What's your weight ?"
"I can ride ten stone five with my saddle, to-day, just as I
stand."
" Very well ! You must toddle up and down the hill at the
back of Cinnamon's camp and get that five pounds off. The
mare carried a hundred and thirty pounds yesterday in her
work and went like a bird. Nobody knows what she had up
but me and Black Dick besides yourselves, and of course
nobody is to know. Dick was cased in lead, a Black Knight
in armor. The mare, though alone, was very free — went
right up to the bit. In fact she was almost too free, consider-
ing that she is a slack goer when there is nothing with her. I
watch changes of that sort. When a horse has not done well,
and there is an alteration in his way of going, I like it. It
indicates improvement. But when a known good one, that is
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON, 193
in fair condition, changes the style of running, I have my
doubts. It may indicate an improvement, but it may be a
sign of the reverse. However, the mare always went more
freely after she had a race in her ; and she knows as w^ell as I
do that there is another soon to come off."
" I'll see her gallop to-morrow," said Tom Scarlet.
" You may, but it must be from a tree-top," replied Sassa-
fras. " If Jagger should see you now and recognise you, all
our plans might fail. It is true the match is play or pay, but
we will avoid all dispute, or wrangle, until it is run. To that
end I shall let them believe that they have got the best of it,
and avoid showing my own hand until the start. You see,
the people at the fort have behaved very ^vell, and the man-
ager and Campau are my friends. A row and a fight would
be against their interests ; and, as I said before, there is no
knowing how red the tomahawks of the Cheyennes would
be before it ended, if it once began. Therefore, you must go
to the Indian camp within an hour, and stay there as an In-
dian until I send for you."
" I can see no need for it ; I can keep close here, and then
you know I can look over the mare every time she gallops. I
have had experience, and am a fair judge of condition as
work goes on."
"I am sure you are; but nevertheless it is necessary that
you leave the mare to me, and just reduce your weight five
pounds," said Sassafras. " I have a presentiment that Staples
or Jagger, perhaps both, will pay me a visit to-morrow ; be-
sides which, that fellow Keeps lurks and pries about here as
if he suspected something. Now, he will take good care not
to go near Cinnamon's camp ; so you must become an Indian."
" That is not possible. I can be no Indian, even in outward
appearance. But I have no objection to stay with the chief
if he will give me his hospitality. I consider disguise unne-
cessary."
" And I say it is altogether necessary to the success of my
plans, and a proper precaution. I shall want you here just
before the race, and in the guise and paint of an Indian, you
can visit the fort as well with Cinnamon. Campau knows
something of the scheme, and so does Pierre Langlois. Come,
Fran9ois, get you paints and dyes and razor. Ked enough he
13
194 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
is already, but not of the real coppery tinge of the Indians of
the plains and mountains. Scarlet by name, scarlet by nature !
Perhaps descended from Robin Hood's bold bowman. Will of
Sherwood Forest. An ancestor to be proud of! Tom, I had
as lieve be descended from one of Robin's merry men as ' fetch
my life and being from men of royal siege.' Go to work,
Frangois. Off with those whiskers. Get your walnut dye
for his hands and arms, neck and face, and your pigment for
his hair. You can make him an Indian good enough for our
use in half an hour."
" I don't fancy this notion," said Tom. " I would much
rather go as I am. Besides, I shall never be able to impose
upon the Indians, and they may take it ill. I may find it
easier to go into their camp in disguise, than to get out again.
The chief himself sometimes has the look of a bloodhound
asleep with his eyes half open, and then again there shoot
such lightning glances from under his brows, that they almost
seem to scorch what they fall upon. He is a good man, no
doubt, but his virtues are those of a savage. You say he pro-
posed to kill Staples and Jagger last night, as a ready, simple,
natural way of settling affairs ?"
" So he did ! What then ?"
" He has not been consulted in this matter, and it may offend
him."
" Nothing of the kind. Your appearance in the paint of
the tribe will please the chief and all his band instead of of-
fending them. Man alive ! you don't know the Indians. They
all like the Golden Bough, and will take it as a compliment.
Besides, it will please the young Kiowa from the Southwest,
and most likely get you an invitation to visit his father in the
mountains. That's a smart boy, Kiowa or no Kiowa, and I'll
bet a trifle he don't go from here until we are better ac-
quainted."
Fran9ois confirmed what Sassafras said in regard to the re-
ception by the Cheyennes, and then Tom Scarlet put on leggings
and moccasins and a hunting-shirt, and suffered the French-
man to do as he would. Francois was an expert artist. He
had taste and skill, and in half an hour he had effected such
a change in the appearance of the young Englishman that
there was no i)robability of his recognition by Jagger or any
one else who might meet him by accident, AVhile the meta-
THE WmrE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 195
morphosis was in progress, Sassafras sat Id front of Tom and
gave Fraugois such hints and advice as a connoisseur may offer
to a painter when he is putting the last finishing touches to a
picture. The transformation completed, Sassafras rose and
surveyed his plumed and painted friend with much care and
gravity.
" I believe it will do," said he. " The skin is a leetle too
dark, to my mind, and the hair a leetle too shiny, but there
are worse-looking Indians about here by a mighty sight. The
paint is beautiful ! beautiful ! The Cheyennes will be delighted.
On the whole, Tom makes a good Indian of the Western
plains, having the proper bow in the legs, the result of being
a fine horseman. Taken altogether, the get-up is like the
acting of the fellows who play the fool in the circusses which
travel the States — too natural. But it will do. Come along
now, and we wi]l breakfast with the chief and his young friend
from the Southwest."
When they reached the Cheyenne camp, it was easily per-
ceived that the Indians knew who the man in the paint and
feathers of their tribe was. This partly arose from his arrival
in company with Sassafras and Franyois. The red men seemed
pleased, and a little amused. Tom Scarlet immediately de-
clared that the disguise was futile, as everybody seemed to know
him.
" Every Cheyenne, you mean," said Sassafras, " which is
natural. They know you are not one of themselves well enough ;
but neither Jagger nor any other stranger would easily dis-
cover that fact. They see you with us, too, and that accounts
for their actually and readily identifying you."
By this time they had reached the tent of the chief. Cin-
namon came out, and welcomed them, taking Tom Scarlet by
the hand, and laying his palm upon his shoulder. The young
Kiowa avoided them, going off as they came up, with his head
down, towards a clump of bushes which was near at hand.
Tom Scarlet thought the youth was shy, and had therefore
gone away to evade a meeting with a strange Indian, or that
he had perhaps left the tent through dislike of Sassafras.
The latter had no such idea. He looked keenly at the youth
as he walked away, and was convinced that he was merely
seeking a place in v.hich to give vent to laughter he was almost
unable to suppress- wht-re he was.
196 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
CHAPTER XXII.
" Now, whether he kill Cassio,
Or Cassio him, or each do kill the other,
Every way makes my gain."
MORNING came again, lighting up the woods and shedding
a golden lustre in the dells and nooks which oj^ened to-
wards the east. Sassafras was early afoot, meditating an import-
ant move in the game of strategy he had begun to play against
Staples and Jagger. He called for Black Dick, and taking him
apart from the other men, gave him such directions, in a few brief,
emphatic sentences, as raised the kinks upon the darkey's bul-
let head, and caused his one eye to assume dimensions ap-
proaching that of a Cyclops, while the white of it, in strong
contrast with the sooty-black hue of his face, indicated alarm,
or enterprise of pith and moment. The other negroes were
all ready for duty, and leaving Fran9ois and Jules in charge
of the camp. Sassafras proceeded with the gray mare and her
sable train to the race-course. She was prepared for her work,
and with a countenance of more than usual gravity, a face
W'hich might have been likened to one carved upon a block
of ebony. Black Dick mounted. After her canter, she went
a mile and a half at three-quarter speed. This \Yas done in
the most satisfactory manner; and then she was sent a rattling
two-mile gallop at nearly her best rate.
A group of men stood in front of the fort while all this was
going on. They took great interest in the proceedings. Sorne
remarked that Sassafrass worked his horses very hard, and
took almost too much out of them before the race. The gen-
eral verdict, however, was to the effect that the mare was very
fit, and never went better. But when she was pulled up on
the back-stretch of the course, where Sassafras and her attend-
ants were standing, it was plain that something out of the
ordinary course had occurred. There was a running to and
fro by the negroes. The mare's saddle was hastily taken off,
and waving back the man who proffered the bucket and sponge
to him. Sassafras went upon his knee and passed his hand sev-
TUE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 197
eral times down over the back tendon of her off fore leg.
The spectators at the fort saw all this plainly enough ; but
when she was blanketed and led away towards her owner's
camp by Black Dick, they were unable to see whether she was
lame, as Sassafras and the negroes followed her in close array.
Ominous nods and whispers were, however, exchanged by these
on-lookers, those who had previously mentioned the hard-
working system followed by Sassafras saying to the others :
" I told you so !" Before the mare had been gone from the
course ten minutes Staples had been informed of what had hap-
pened, with the usual embellishments and exaggerations, and
had sent for Keeps. That worthy was not far off. He and
the captain had a consultation, in which the latter delivered
certain instructions to his man. In pursuance of these the
latter set out for the camp of Sassafras by a roundabout route,
taking care to avoid the tents of the Cheyennes and the woods
in which they were strolling and shooting at marks. Arrived
near the camp of the Western man, Keeps lurked about, con-
cealed by the bushes, for some time, but at last got speech
with one of the negroes. The latter was a stout fellow, with a
wooden look and a vacant stare. He was commonly regarded as
a very thick-headed darkey, with little or none of the cunning
and acuteness so often possessed by his race and hidden under
a stolid exterior. From this apparently dull and obtuse negro
Keeps extracted the intelligence, given with much circumlo-
cution and digression, that the mare had pulled up lame at
the end of her two-mile gallop, and that Sassafras, Fran§ois
and Black Dick were fomenting her off fore leg. On receipt
of this important piece of news the captain's henchman swore
an oath or two of some force, whether expressive of satisfac-
tion or of disappointment and regret was uncertain, for Keeps
was accustomed to mark any and every sentiment in this
manner. Leaving the dull darkey without ceremony, he set
off at his best rate to communicate with his employer. The
venerable captain, having heard Keeps to the end, seemed to
be involved in doubt and unprepared to come to any decision
in this crisis. He wanted time for consideration, and perhaps
for the gathering of more facts touching the nature and extent
of the injury the mare had suffered.
** Keeps," said he, " say nothing of this at present. There
198 'l^'i^E WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
are plenty of people to do the talking, Keeps — too many ; for
the world grows more given to gabbiiug and spouting every
day. You and I are men of action. You had better not
mention what you and I know to Mr. Grosvernor. He is now
upon the course with his White Horse, and will hear nothing
but what you can represent as a vague rumor, most likely
started by Sassafras himself to get long odds. If he should
once find that the mare is broke down, the Englishman will
get so uncommon bumptious that we shall be able to do
nothing with him — nothing at all."
The worthy captain then took Keeps into his shanty, and
produced a large demijohn of old Bourbon whiskey, which
liaving been taken from the beautiful blue-grass lands of
Kentucky, down the Ohio and the Mississippi to New Orleans,
and up again to the Arkansas, and along that stream, had
acquired such excellence and flavor that it was kept for its
owner's private use and entertainment. Of this golden and
oily but potent spirit the captain treated his henchman to a
cup before he dismissed him. When Keeps was gone, the
veteran sat upon a barrel, in the midst of old horse-clothes,
saddles, bridles, rusty bits, and empty kegs, smelling strongly
of the distilled juice of Indian corn, and pondered over the
change which had suddenly come about in the state of afiairs.
At first he was cheerful, not to say gay. Pouring out a large
dram, he quaffed it with a relish, and with a sense of congrat-
ulation on the fact that he had carefully avoided committing
himself to a partnership with Sassafras in the pending match.
" I look before 1 leap," said he. " Sassafras, and the fools
and blackguards of that age, may go it with a rush — the whole
hog, as they say at Cincinnati — but none of that for the old
man !"
But in the midst of his satisfaction over the fact that he was
not " in" with Sassafras, he recollected that he was not " in"
with Jagger either. As things were likely to turn out this
was a manifest matter of regret ; and besides, the domineering,
boasting spirit of the latter was sure to be augmented and
inflamed if his horse beat the mare from whom the captain's
best racer had lately suffered defeat. Of late these worthies
had begun to discuss politics, and had as often quarrelled over
the institutions of their respective countries. The captain was
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 199
all for republican goverDment, and very dogmatic m his asser-
tions, which he called his reasons. Jagger was voluble in
praise of monarchical institutions. He took under his pro-
tection the king, the aristocracy, and the church, especially
the last, and the bishops, one of whom, he said, was his brother-
in-law. The captain did not like bishops, had " no use for
'em," and 'his opinion of brothers-in-law was not high, but the
reverse. So the captain saw the almost absolute necessity of
getting " in" with Jagger ; but with all his fertility of inven-
tion and unscrupulousuess he was at fault as to the means.
If he could hit upon a plan whereby Sassafras and Jagger
might both be brought to grief he would be happy. The
former was a villain, bold and desperate, who ought to be
undone. The latter was a minion of the crown, w^ho ought to
be despoiled, and his money employed by a good republican
for the public benefit. But no expedient, even for the bringing
about of a partnership with Jagger, presented itself just then
to the captain's mind, and he felt like one about to be defrauded
of his rights and deprived of his substance. Should such
things be ? The venerable captain thought not, if he could
help it. The mare was lame ! The fate of the horse was in
his own hands, for he could enter his stable at any moment.
Yet he was about to lose the bountiful harvest springing from
seed scattered by two fools by the way, for want of a device
by which to reap and bind it. The captain felt that he was
an injured man, and w^as highly disgusted with the situation.
There was, however, no apparent remedy, since it was not in
the nature of things that the fools and rogues who had made
the match and carried it on without consulting him could both
lose it.
In the middle of the forenoon, having brought his fruitless
cogitations to a close, the captain determined to pay a visit
to the camp of the Western man. He walked across the
prairie and up the little valley in which it lay. Sassafras was
nowhere to be seen, but Black Dick was seated on a rock at
the base of the eastern hill, looking more glum, more solemn
and more black, if that were possible, than usual. Over to
him the captain walked, and when within a few paces, said :
" Halloo, you Dick ! what are you all about here ? Where's
Sassafras, you black rascal ?"
200 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
"Ober dar," replied Dick, pointing to the stable of the
mare.
" And what's the matter with you ?" said Staples. " You
look as sulky as a lone bull driven from the herd."
" T'ink I ought, when I get licked for nothing," replied
Dick, in his sulkiest tone. " 'Cause 'e mar' slip and pull up
lame, Sassafras git mad and lick 'e darkey like eberyting."
" Ah ! he whipped you on account of the accident to the
mare. Now, that was wrong, very wrong, Dick. It was un-
just and I hate injustice. I never whip my boys without
good reason, as I tell 'em ; but there's very few such masters
as me. In fact, my only fault as regards them boys is, that
I am too indulgent. Sassafras is different. I'm sure this
wasn't your fault, Dick. I have always said you were the
best rider in the country, and a pattern for other boys. Is
this matter serious, and how did it happen ? Is she broke
down ?"
" Can't tell," replied Dick, looking down. " Felt her falter
at de t'ree-quarter pole. Jest afo' de gallop was finish felt her
let down. I t'ink she break down in de off fo' leg. Sassafras
got mad 'cause I didn't pull up afo', and gave me an awful
lickin'."
" It's jest like Sassafras, but all wrong," replied the captain.
" I shall tell him so. He was wrong to lick you."
" He lick somebody else afo' long," said Dick, with an
ominous look. " 'Fore God, captain, I uebber see him so mad
as he is now since dat ar' time when he kill de t'ree men what
murdered his father and brother !"
" I've heard of that. It was a bad and bloody business.
You think he feels like that now, eh ?"
" Am berry sure he does," replied Dick.
" Well, I must see him, for all that," said Staples, walking
slowly away towards the light log-stable of the unfortunate
gray mare.
The black looked after him, but furtively, seeming to think
that he might turn around. Once the wide mouth of the
negro was opened so as to display all the white teeth which
guarded the red cavern within, but he closed his lips again
firmly, and the single bright eye was again dropped to the
grass at his feet.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 201
Tho old man neared the stable, and glanced around. Enter-
ing without notice to whoever might be inside, he found Sas-
safras leaning against the side of the building, and watching
his favorite mare as she ate a feed of oats and hominy wetted
down into a cold mash. Whatever injury there might be to
what her owner called " the running tackle," it was plain that
Virginia had not suffered any to her constitutional appetite ;
for she was feeding with a relish which bordered on voracity.
Her fore legs were in red-flannel bandages, and it was plain to
the captain that in the off one there was an enlargement
between the knee and the ankle joint. Sassafras took no
notice of his visitor. The old man glanced from the mare to
her master, and his eye fell upon the rifle which stood against
the logs, ready to the hand of the borderer. It was a time lor
caution. The venerable captain knew that whenever his
young friend was in an ugly mood he always had that formi-
dable weapon with him, together with a brace of pistols and
a long knife. It was a trait of the man that whenever things
went wrong, and friends, horses and luck seemed to fail him,
he straightway took to his arms, and hugged them close, as if
drawing composure of mind and strength of resolution from
the steel of which they were composed. Another minute or
two passed, when Sassafras, without turning to look at Sta-
ples, said :
"You have come now when the mischief is done, like a
raven to a dying horse. I fear the jig is up for the present.
The music has got to be paid for; and we must get out of the
hobble the best way we can."
" We, Sassafras ! who is we ?" said the captain. " I ain't
in with you in this business, you know."
" What d'ye mean by that ?" replied Sassafras. " You w^ere
to give your answer in three days, if you declined to take a
hand, and the fifth is now half gone."
" You mistook the matter," said the captain. " I was to let
you know if I ivould go in, not if I wouldn't. I certainly am
not ' i/i' at present, but I may be after all. Let me have a
look at the mare's leg. This may be a trifle."
" Look away ! I shall not take the bandage off for anybody ;
but you may see her walk, if you like."
The captain did like, since he could see no more. In a few
202 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
minutes, when Virginia had finished her feed, Sassafras put a
bridle on her and taking her outside led her up and down
before the stable.
" What do you think of it ?" said he.
" She walks quite lame. I could form a better opinion if I
saw her leg with the bandage off. The best way will be to
gallop her a mile to-morrow morning, and see whether she
stands up or not. We shall then know the worst."
" Ay ! and the Englishman would know the worst too, and
insist upon the full stake. She will gallop no more until she
strips for the race, if she ever runs it."
*' Suit yourself," replied Staples. " You asked for my opin-
ion : you have had it. The business is on your sole account.
I ain't in it in any shape or form."
" You said, suit yourself," returned Sassafras, as he led the
mare back into her stable. " Now I say, you suit yourself. The
case is far from desperate, though it might be made so if I
galloped her to-morrow morning. She has had plenty of
strong work, and the let-up of a day will do more good than
harm to her condition. I have two things to try. By means
of one I may yet win ; for that horse can't repeat, if the pace
is strong in the first heat. He's too fat inside."
" He may be a little fat inwards," said the captain, who
knew that Sassafras was the best judge of condition of all the
racing men he knew.
*' By the other," said Sassafras, " I shall avoid much loss,
even if I conclude not to start her."
" And what may these things be?" said Staples.
" The first is a kind of liniment and spell confided to me by
Black Dick's great-grandmother, who was a Voodhoo woman
raised in Africa, and one of mighty power. She warranted it
to cure anything less than a broken leg in twenty-four hours,
Avith rest. It's on the mare's back tendon now, and I have
great faith in it."
" It might be of some avail, if she was a real Voodhoo
'omau ; but. Sassafras, you know as well as I do that most of
'em are impostors, and have no power for good or harm — only
the ignorant and superstitious darkeys think they have. Now
I am neither superstitious nor credulous, and I ain't going to
believe that Dick's great-grandmother was a real Voodhoo
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOX. 203
'oman, having established dealings with the African devil, he-
cause she said so. What proof is there that she had power?"
" This liniment," replied Sassafras, " which has never failed,
and it will not fail now. Don't you know that as long as I
have had race-horses none of mine ever broke down ?"
" Well, I have heard as much," said Staples. " But if it
was the Voodhoo liniment that kept 'em up, you'd better have
had 'em break down as often as I have. Sassafras. I call it
irreligious to use the African things and Voodhoo spells ; by
G — d, I wouldn't do it, if I was you."
" But I will, though. If the devil himself was to rise, and
show me how to save a good race-horse from the misery and
fatality of a breakdown, I think I would follow his instruc-
tions."
" Well ! well ! never mind the Voodhoo. I know you'll
have your own way. What is the other thing you men-
tioned ?"
" It is this," replied Sassafras. " If I find at the end of the
next twenty-four hours that the leg is no better, I will go to
Mr. Grosvernor, and propose to pay a moderate forfeit, stating
that though Virginia may be able to run, I do not want to ex-
pose her to the risk of a breakdown."
" A good idea this," said Staples, with a sarcastic grin. " As
it's a play-or-pay match, he's sure to agree to the proposition,
when he knows that your mare is on three legs."
" Why, a gentleman of England," said Sassafras, " connected
with the nobility, a man of great wealth and high degree, with
no end of money, and mines and cofiee plantations in the Lee-
ward Islands and on the Spanish Main, is sure to do so. Don't
you see, it's in character ?"
" To be sure it is !" replied Staples. " And, this being the
case, and everything so satisfactory, you needn't want me ' in,'
and I ain't in. Try out the Voodhoo spell and liniment, and,
if the mare is not as sound as a Mexican dollar to-morrow,
rely upon the generosity of the English gentleman. I'm so
convinced of his having that quality in abundance that I've a
good mind to go and ask him to give me five or six hundred
dollars." With this the captain left.
It seemed probable the next day that the Voodhoo charm
had failed. In fact, the horseshoes in and about the stables
204 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
may have destroyed its efficacy ; for it is well known that
spells and incantations are rendered of no avail by the exhi-
bition of such articles ; and it is admitted that the Voodhoo
rites are intended to propitiate the evil one, and secure a grant
of power from him to be exercised on earth. Be this as it
may, Keeps succeeded in learning from the thick-headed dar-
key, in a brief, stolen interview, such news that he hastened
to give Captain Staples the benefit of it. It was to the effect
that the gray mare was no better ; that Black Dick had been
compelled to hide in the woods for fear of serious injury from
Sassafras ; that the latter was savage as a mad bull, or a
baited bear ; that he had picked a quarrel with the Cheyenne
chief, which would have been fought out upon the spot but for
the intervention of Campau and Pierre Lauglois, who had
been sent for by Francois when he found that mischief was
brewing. The last item of the news in catalogue was that the
whole party had gone to the fort at nightfall, and were there
drinking deeply.
The good old man was somewhat surprised and a little
moved by this intelligence. When he had left Sassafras the
day before he had seemed rather hopeful than desperate —
rather pacific than furious. He saw the probability that if
he met him at the fort while he was inflamed with rage and
whiskey a broil would be brought on ; and, remembering the
sharp and sudden fate which overtook the three men who
killed the father and brother of Sassafras, the captain sagely
determined to keep away.
" Keeps," said he, " the fit comes on him now and again, as
it does on a mad dog. It will be better for you and me and
Kirby to steer clear of him to-night. He is a bloody-minded
man when he takes these fits. Double dangerous, as them
insurance people called it, who never paid when my property
was burned up down the river, and, indeed, said it was done
a-purpose. He's desperate and a villain, with no love of God
and no fear of the devil. Practising of the Voodhoo, which
you know is irreligious, when not a cheat and fraud."
"Captain," said Keeps, "if I was you I would not mention
the Voodhoo just at present, if there's any chance of blood-
letting about here."
" Why, you don't believe in it, Keeps ?"
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 205
" I'm d — d if I don't then, to a certain extent ; and if you
want to talk about it at all, it'll be a good deal better to speak
well of it."
" Dou you believe it can do any good — to the mare's leg,
for instance?"
" I don't think it can, but it may do a sight of harm to
somebody before long. All Sassafras's niggers agree that
Black Dick's great-grandmother was a real Voodhoo 'oman,
and we will let that pass."
" Well, you see, if we go where he is, he is sure to raise a
row, and it will not pay expenses to fight him here. We will
let him alone. In default of anybody else to quarrel with, he
may have another difficulty with the Cheyenne chief. If he
should fight Cinnamon and get killed, it would be a pleasant
thing for all good people. If he should kill the Indian it
would be better still, for a redskin I have no use for would
be out of the way, and the other Cheyennes would have the
scalp of the slayer before to-morrow sundown, as sure as your
name is Keeps. That is how the thing stands."
" That is how it seems to stand ; but still I should like to
know what goes on among them yonder ; and I think it would
be of some service," replied Keeps. " Campau, coming from
St. Jo., has much influence with Sassafras, and may quiet him
so as to hatch up some sort of a plot. They have these western
Indians under their control, and there is no telling what they
may contrive before to-morrow."
" I will take care to learn a little of what goes on," said
Staples. " We will stay away. But I will get Mr. Grosvernor,
who is my partner in the match, to go in and mingle with
them."
" Then you are not afr,aid of his being killed," said Keeps,
with significant emphasis.
" Not much," replied the captain. " He is not a fighting
man. Sassafras could ofter no excuse for such a thing."
" Besides which, all his money and eflfects would be left in
your hands," said Keeps ; " and then again, as he is a gentle-
man of high family and station, with noble connections among
the dukes, bishops and what not, the British might take it, up
and bring on the next war, if anything of that sort happened
to him."
206 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
The venerable captain did not altogether like the tone of
irony with which his henchman delivered this.
" You take this drink of the old particular," said he, handing
Keeps a cup of whiskey, " and then go and send Mr. Grosver-
nor and Kirby to me. That fellow is too smart by half," he
added, when Keeps had left the shanty. " He knows too
much, which I have noticed is not a sign of long life in these
parts. He don't take what I say upon trust, and he believes
Jagger is not the man he holds himself out to be. Kow, Kirby,
honest fellow% is easily satisfied ; but he is so bull-headed, that,
for anything other than main strength and stupidness, I have
to employ this cunning fox, Keeps. However, the fellow is
useful ; and having been well-blooded in fights on the river,
and sent three or four to their last accounts, he will not be apt
to stick at trifles, if real, thorough work is called for." With
this, the captain poured out and drank a good dose of his
especial medicine.
It might have been an hour after this when Jagger strutted
into the large store-room of the fort, in which Sassafras, Cinna-
mon, and others were drinking. The former had been informed
by the captain that Virginia was broken down, and literally
standing on three legs. He had also received many cautions
and instructions from the old man as to what he should do,
but all these Jagger was determined to disregard. Treating
with contempt the assurance that it might be dangerous to ex-
asperate Sassafras in his present state of mind, he gave full
swing to his domineering disposition and love of vulgar tri-
umph. A coward at heart, but a fool in head, and ^ell primed
with liquor, he was rash to a degree ; and the taunts he in-
flicted on his opponent were such that most of the friends of
the latter w^ere surprised at the foi^bearance with which he suf-
fered them. In fact, the Indian, Cinnamon, although appar-
ently unmoved, was more excited than Sassafras himself; and,
after Jagger's most oftensive boasts, looked at him with such
a concentrated gleam of white light as is seen in the eye of the
royal tiger when he is about to spring. Had Jagger seen the
Indian's face at these times, it might have subdued his vaunt-
ing spirit, and caused him to moderate his insolent manifesta-
tions of superiority ; for there was something in its savage
ferocity which would have appalled him. But he looked at
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 207
Sassafras alone — talked only to him, and drank deeply from
time to time of the fiery ^vhiskey -which the traders dispensed
to the rude hunters and Indians at the fort. The Western
man remained silent during most of Jagger's long harangue.
He looked down, and his foolish opponent believed that he had
lost heart, and was cowed and broken by the misfortune which
had befallen him. To Jagger this was a reason for ostentatious
triumph and unbridled exultation. It may be doubted whether
the barbarous forefathers of the Indian chief ever tortured a
captive at the stake with more zest and less feeling than Jag-
ger displayed in taunting Sassafras, and accusing him of ig-
norance and stupid presumption, amounting to moral insanity,
in pitting himself against one experienced and renowned upon
the English turf. At last the border man made a sort of faint
reply, or rather protest.
" Mr. Grosvernor," said he, " did you overcrow your noble
relatives, the Duke and Duchess of Grafton, in this way, when
they were compelled to give up the Whip ?"
" There is some difference between my relatives and you, I
take it," replied Jagger. " Every man to his proper place and
tools. I believe yours are the spade and hoe."
" It is, in some measure, true," said Sassafras, " for I have
dug men's graves in my time, and may do so again. You are
said to be an English gentleman "
"Said to be — said to be?" cried Jagger.
" Ay, sir, said to be. I have met other Englishmen who
were said to be gentlemen, and were so called by the consuls
of Great Britain ; these men were not a bit like you. But
that is nothing to the purpose. If you had resembled them, I
might have requested you to take a moderate sum as forfeit,
and declare the match off. As it is, I would not accept any-
thing like a favor at your hands. I shall run the mare if she
is in anything like a state to make use of her leg under the
heavy weight, and, win or l«se, it is the sole race I shall ever
have with you. The transactions of the turf ought always to
be between men whose principles are honorable, no matter
what their wealth and station in life may be. You are no
such man."
With this Sassafras turned away, leaving Jagger somewhat
confounded by the words and the stern, emphatic manner of
208 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
their delivery. He first had recourse to the whiskey, aud then
addressed himself to Campau :
" Your friend from Missouri is out of his mind," said he.
" It's lunacy — sheer lunacy, to talk in that manner to me, or
to think of starting his mare. I'll lay a hundred to one on
my own horse."
That observation was overheard, aud there were offers to
take the bet, but Jagger would not stand to it. At last, how-
ever, after much altercation and banter, he retired into the
back room and made a bet of a thousand guineas to two
hundred and fifty with Sassafras, and produced the gold from
two large belts worn round his body. It thus appeared that
while Staples thought the money was in a brass-bound box,
double-locked and committed to him for safe-keeping, it was
really being borne, night and day, by Jagger himself, at great
inconvenience. Sassafras was furnished with money by the
manager, from an amount deposited by Tom Scarlet, but in
Campau's name, and the stakes were made good on both sides.
After this Mr. Jagger returned to the outer store, and in
company with Indians, half-breeds, hunters and trappers, got
60 drunk that Kirby and Keeps were sent for at midnight to
take him away.
CHAPTER XXIII.
"Virginia was a noble steed;
Gray, aud of the Medley breed —
Full* of tire, and full of bone,
All her lineage tried and known.
Muzzle tine and nostrils thin.
But blown abroad by the pride within.'*
THE morning of the day named for the race was clear,
bright aud beautiful. The sun rose without a cloud on
the eastern horizon, and the haze which lay upon the lowlands
soon disappeared, while the rich tints of the forest foliage
showed all their varied hues in the autumn rays, as the god
of day topped the eastern liills. There was great anxiety in
the minds of the immediate parties to the race, and some un-
certainty in those of the men not immediately concerned, as
to whether it would come off at all. The prevailing impres-
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 209
sion was that, at the ]ast moment, Sassafras would refuse to
rim his mare. The Dunibers about the fort had been somewhat
increased. The news of the race had been spread far and wide
throughout all that wild region by hunters and runners.
Indians had come in, as well as some roving white men from
the frontier parts of Arkansas, Missouri, the Cherokee territory,
and the Indian territory to the west, which is now the popu-
lous and thriving state of Kansas. Keeps was very early
a-foot and in a restless state of mind. He had a devouring
curiosity to hear more about Virginia. Neither he nor his
worthy principal, Captain Staples, knew of the last large bet
made by Jagger with Sassafras, for as soon as the former got
sober his heart began to fail him on account of the amount of
money he had upon the event, and he resolved to say nothing
about it until after the race was run. Still, Keeps could not
altogether suppress the suspicion that Sassafras meditated a
secret, sudden and staggering blow of some sort, and that his
strategy was to be watched and feared. In his assertions Keeps
put .little faith, and scarcely more in his admissions to Stai3les.
Keeps knew what his own were worth in such emergencies, and
determined to see all he could for himself. From a close cover
he saw the mare very early in the morning led out for a walk,
and she went lame in the off fore leg, but, so far as he could
perceive from a distance, not very lame. After that she was
taken back to her stable, into which no man had since entered
save Sassafras, Black Dick, and an Indian Keeps did not
know.
Whether these parties were engaged in making another
trial of the Voodhoo charm, in which Keeps was somewhat
of an unwilling believer, as many were who had mixed much
with the negroes of the southwest, he was unable to determine.
Ignorant and incredulous in regard to many things, and with-
out much fear of the white man's particular devil, Keeps was
superstitious, and had more present fear of the African devil,
whose proceedings he had always heard were much more sum-
mary than those of the evil one of the Scriptures. If Jagger
had not been silent about his last large bet with Sassafras,
Keeps would have feared the worst, and might have conjec-
tured the truth. But he now thought that, in his desperate
strait. Sassafras was relying upon the enchantments of the
14
210 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
Voodhoo. From what he had been able to observe at a dis-
tance, the man of the border had the air of a necromancer,
while Black Dick was not unlike a familiar, bound to work
his master's will. Keeps silently rejoiced in the conclusion
that the Voodhoo power inherited by Dick could not amount
to much. Even admitting that his great-grandmother pos-
sessed it in all its native force, fresh from her African home
on the banks of the Niger, there were two generations between
him and her, both of which had been born in America. After
lurking about for some time, and making many signals, he at
last succeeded in attracting the attention of the thick-headed
negro, and got him to come into the cover where he lay con-
cealed. Keeps hastily questioned him, asseverating his warm
friendship, and his determination to pay him well for informa-
tion — " truthful and useful information. Calabash," said he.
The result was rather unsatisfactory at first. The man
seemed to be more addle-headed than ever. In a daze of
amazement and fright, and with a stare of downright vacuity,
he shook his large head and helplessly muttered :
" Soraet'ing in hand, I t'ink."
"Well, I know, and it ain't unreasonable on your part.
But, Calabash, I got nothing myself just now. After the race
I shall have a great deal of money, and you'll see that I will
divide with you. Now, just tell me who is down there, and
what they are doing."
" 'Fo' God, Massa Keeps, I brieve dey makin' preparations
to raise de debbil. Dere Sassafras and Black Dick, de French-
men, Cinnamon, and a strange Indian nobody know. I hab
reason to brieve him Medicine Man from de Rocky Moun-
tains. Den dere come last night, after dark, two more Indian.
One a horrid-looking sabage, wid big gash all down de face."
"Ay, ay. Three Scalps. A bloody-minded redskin that.
Calabash. What of the other ?"
" De odcr v. as de young Kiowa. Dat limb of Satan swag-
ger about round de fire, swingin' knife and tomahawk, and
make signs dat he mean to scalp me. Keeps," said the negro,
in solemn tones and with a portentous look, " last night I hab
a dream. In dat dream I see de debbil. Keeps, plain. He
stretch out his orful claws for me, and I wake. What you
t'ink I see next ?"
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 211
" Why, Black Dick, of course," replied Keeps.
" No, sail ! Ober me stood de Kiowa. In his eye malice
ob de fiend ; in his hand de scalping-knife, which he flourish
round my head, and say, in his barbarous tongue, ' Wool-
isriz !' I know not de meaning ob de sabage, but from his
gestures 'spect some frightful 'lusion to my top ha'r. De fact
is, Keeps, de mar', lame or not lame, dese parties say dey jest
raise de very debbil hisself but what dey Tnake her win."
"And I say that Sassafras will never raise anything worse
than himself. The devil don't come at the call of such a vil-
lain ; that is, not the right and proper devil."
" I dunno ! I dunno ! but I's in mortal dread. Sassafras is
a Yoodhoo man," said Calabash, in an ominous voice and with
another portentous look.
" That's all nonsense. The whites never have the power.
Besides, it's a female gift. There is no such thing as a Vood-
hoo man," said Keeps.
"Ain't dere?" said Calabash, with some contempt in his
tone. "Sode ignorant t'ink, but I hab 'sperience. Keeps,
dere is but one man on dis Western continent wid more know-
ledge and 'sperience of de Voodhoo practice dan me — dat
man is Sassafras. I admit de Voodhoo men to be more scase,
but dey hab most power. Keeps. I seen it, being what you call
inwoluntary spectator ob de horrid rites. Black Dick's great-
grandmoder, dyiug at de age of 'bout a hundred and fifty, at de
plantation near St. Jo., gib Sassafras all her power, and mo',
too, befo' she take lebe ob de world, and go back, as she say,
to Africa."
"Calabash,'' said Keeps, " is this actually true?"
" True as de Voodhoo itself, and dat you know is true as
gospel — de adepts in de sorcery say great deal truer. Keeps,
I brieve you to be my true friend."
"You may bet your life on that!" replid Keeps, with
ardor. " Kot my own brother, much as I love him — I'll go
further than him, for we have not been on good terms lately,
all his fault. Calabash, you got no other sich friend as me
on earth. Hear me swear "
" Nebber mind now — time presses ! Besides, I hab heerd
you do dat once or twice afb'. Now, listen to me. Dere is
more'n life and deaf involved in de secret I gwiue to tell. I
212 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
hab long been anxious to tell it, but didn't dare. When de
ole African got very feeble, I was sent to wait upon her. She
lib in a hut, solitary, all alone, 'cept a porcupine and a rattle-
snake — wouldn't let de oder women come near her. De night
she died she started up at dusk and say, ' Dere Sassafras ! I
hear tread of his horse. Fetch him heah.' Keeps, I did so,
and when he came, wid his rifle and knife — he was returned
from a hunt — de ole African 'oman send me away. Now,
what passed between dem after I left was dis "
" By what means did you find out what passed ? I reckon
Sassafras didn't tell you ?"
" Massa Keeps, he did not," said Calabash. " I found out
by de same means which hab enable me to gib you various
information. I just crawl up to de back of de hut, and looked
and listened t'roo a chink in de clapboard."
" Ah ! all right. Go on, Calabash."
" Well, sah, de ole African say, ' Sassafras, you good man,
only you nebber whip dat boy Dick enough. If you jest whip
him strong once a w^eek, you make man ob him.' Now, Keeps,
what you t'ink of ole 'oman on de brink ob de grave wanting
her own flesh and blood whipped once a week ? It is bery
well for some folks to talk 'bout whipping, but it is a t'iug I
hab strong objection to. De ole African went on : * Sassafras,
chile, I gwine dead to-night — gwine back to Africa, I brieve.
'Fo' I start I gib you de power ob de spirits, de Voodhoo and
de fetish ; what I bring a hundred yeai-s ago from de land ob
de lion and de elephant, de crocodile and de serpent. I get
up now. Sassafras, chile, you de only man fit to hab de gift.
No black man heah brave enough. Draw your knife and
look upon de edge. Now open vein in your left arm, and I
catch blood in the gourd. Must drink blood ob de brave 'fo'
I got strength to face de Voodhoo power. Prince ob de jungle
on de Niger. When he comes he will say : " White man,
thou art my subject." You say, " Not so, dark Prince ; thou
art my subject. As Heir of the Woman and Master of the
Steel, I will compel ?" Now, Sassafras, stand fast ; be all-
brave ! If coward hear or see what is now to come, it is cer-
tain and sudden death to him.' "
" And what came next ?" said Keeps, with eager and impa-
tient curiositv. " What next ?"
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 213
« AYell, Keeps, I next cl'ar out away from dat chink in a •
hurry, habbing no reason to t'ink de Voodhoo secrets do me
much good, if I gone struck dead certain and sudden de next
minute. iVfter long time and prayers twice ober, I crawl back
agen. De ole African lay still. Sassafras, bery pale, paler
dan you. Keeps, now, sat by her side. She lay a-dying.
Sights were seen and voices heard round de hut whar' de ole
Queen ob de Voodhoo lay a-dyiug. At de first faint tinge ob
dawn she raise up and look awful — white ha'r, black skin and
bone, and fiery eyes ! She say, * Sassafras, chile ! one last little
gift. All \\^io possess de Voodhoo power must hab it. Take
dis bottle. If you got enemy, bad man, ten drops in coffee or
in water make him good ; dat is, good 'nuff"! Ten drops plenty
for de worst and strongest man dat lives ; but. Sassafras, chile,
if you eber 'spect Calabash ob treachery and treason, gib him
eleben !' O, Keeps, eleben ! and with dat she died. What
you t'iuk now, Keeps ?"
« Think ! I don't know what to think, except this : Ten
drops in coffee or in water, the old sorceress said. I'll drink
nothing but whiskey in the infernal company of Sassafras."
" You don't want to be made good, eh ?"
" Not by them unlawful and diabolical means," said Keeps,
as he stole hastily away.
It was nearly three o'clock, in the afternoon of the day in
question, and the time of the race was near at hand. Con-
sidering the remote situation of the place of action, a large
crowd was assembled in front of the fori. Every Indian,
every hunter, and every trapper about those parts had come
to see the event, and to bet his money if he could. There were
three distinct races of men, as well as the half-breeds. The
aborigines of North America were in the majority, the white
men were next in number, the negroes were the smallest body,
and, in fact, slaves, for the most part, to the whites. The
Indians, the whites, and the half-breeds w^ere already engaged
in gaming, a practice for which the first have a notable passion ;
and it was surprising to see the quantity of silver dollars of
Mexico these roving borderers produced with which to play and
bet. Some, indeed, gambled for stakes of gold, and put up
their ounces and doubloons v^ith as much nonchalance as
grandees of New Spain or planters of Louisiana. The White
214 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
Horse was brought on to the course first, attended by Staples,
Jagger, Keeps, Kirby, and the negroes belonging to the party.
He was taken to the edge of the track, and his rider, Jagger,
alias Mr. Grosvernor, went into the fort to be weighed. The
manager of the trading company had. been selected to act as
judge of the race, and had reluctantly consented to do so. He
found that Jagger was the stipulated weight, 140 lbs. The
latter was nervous and shaky, the result, for the most part, of
his previous carousals, but also in some degree from the near
approach of the time when he must undertake a task for which
he knew himself to be unfit — the riding of a race. He re-
quested to be supplied with a stimulant, and having taken two
doses, by way of medicine, as the captain would have said, he
found himself much better.
The arrival of the gray mare was so much delayed, that
some began to think she would not be brought out at all, and
large odds were offered against her. Still the oldest and
most wary of the borderers, the men who had the doubloons,
and were prepared to stake them, hesitated about making the
White Horse their favorite. The air of mystery, which had
been kept up about the mare all the morning had caused them to
doubt, had perplexed Keeps, and had mightily provoked the
venerable captain. Of those who had seen her during her
morning walk, sjome said she was quite lame forw^ard, while
others declared that she was apparently sound, but it was
agreed on all hands that in bodily condition she was as near
perfect as possible. It had been remarked that she was bright
in the eye, blooming in the coat, lean but muscular, with flesh
as hard as brass. The patience of some in the crowd was
nearly exhausted, and the manager had been spoken to con-
cerning the delay, when there was a murmur of " Here they
come !" and a sort of procession was seen emerging from the
little valley on the other side of the prairie. It was headed
by the famous gray mare, always a prime favorite, in her
palmy days, with the Indians and borderers who knew her.
She was led by Black Dick, and Sassafras walked on the off
side at her shoulder. The Frenchmen and the negro attend-
ants followed. The Indian chief, the young Kiowa and a
party of Cheyenues brought up the rear. There was some-
thing portentous iu the ebony-like face of Black Dick, and in
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 215
the set stare of his one eye. As they approached the back-
stretch of the course, some of the men in front of the fort
crossed over to look at Virginia. Sassafras was questioned,
but his replies were of the Delphic order, which is commonly
and naturally the case with the answers of trainers to questions
put concerning their horses just before a race. While the
bystanders were making their observations, the thick-headed
negro approached Black Dick, and whispered a proposition to
him. The steady, stony stare of Dick did not relax, and he
shook his head, muttering, " Go 'way, niggah !"
The thick-headed darkey turned to Jules, and informing him
in his maundering way that there was no fun in horse-racing
without betting, produced a greasy rag from the inside of his
shirt. From this he took twenty Mexican dollars, and re^
quested the Frenchman to bet them on Virginia for him at
odds of three to one. Looking at the wooden-headed darkey
with amazement, the Frenchman protested with volubility,
and not without some show of reason, against the venture.
But the wooden-headed darkey would not be denied. He
forced the money upon Jules, and when the latter said he did
not know whom to bet with, desired him to lay it with Keeps,
and make Campau the stakeholder. The Frenchman sought
his man. With the wager in view. Keeps borrowed thirty
dollars from Jagger, extorted thirty more from Captain Sta-
ples, and staked it with Campau against that of his muddle-
headed confidant who had predicted in the morning the " Rais-
ing ob de debil, Massa Keeps !"
Just at this time somebody made the discovery that Black
Dick had not been weighed. The negro moved never a mus-
cle, but kept his one eye fixed on his master. The man then
said, " Here's Dick not weighed !"
" I know it. Here comes my rider," said Sassafras, as a
dark, tall, lithe man, with a saddle on his arm, came up, ac-
companied by Campau. He was a man not known to any
there save Sassafras and his confidential friends.
" You're the right weight?" said Sassafras.
" A pound more," replied Campau.
^' Here goes, then," said Sassafras. With great quickness,
but with care, he saddled the mare, drawing the girths tight
with ease and a display of power in the exercise of which the
216 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
perfection of his sinewy frame and build were displayed.
Meantime the dark man threw off a woollen shirt, exposed his
jacket of the Sassafras blue, and put on the jockey cap of the
same color. He vaulted into the saddle. Sassafras went
down upon his knee, and in a moment removed the bandage
from Virginia's off fore leg. The thick-headed darkey, deft
where horses were concerned, stripped her near one. Black
Dick let loose her head, and away she went at an easy, springy
canter towards the quarter-pole. These proceedings, so quickly
and quietly effected, opened the eyes of the border men on that
side of the course. Without words, but with meaning looks
at each other, they hurried across to take some of the odds
which were being freely offered near the fort.
Sassafras and his immediate friends and assistants followed
them. Among the crowd near the starting-place much noise
and confusion now prevailed, and sometimes there was a wild
border whoop followed by a yell which was caught up and
echoed by the neighboring hills. All this tended to shake the
nerves of Jagger, while it excited the spirit and chafed the
temper of his fiery horse, as he cantered him up and down.
It was already apparent to those who were good judges and
who watched the horse and rider that the latter was afraid of
the racer on whose back he had incautiously ventured at such
a time. The horse moved with free and powerful action,
fighting against the bit, while Jagger, pale and apprehensive,
kept a desperate pull upon the bridle, as if his life depended
upon not letting the former have his head. The mare had
been turned at the quarter-pole, so as to have a breathing gal-
lop of three-quarters of a mile to the starting-place. She now
came sweeping by at fair speed without any signs of lameness
or infirmity. Astonishment made the crowd silent as they saw
■with what ease and gaiety the supposed cripple skimmed along.
Jagger was too much occupied with his own fiery and impa-
tient horse to notice her. Kirby had been drinking, and was
better capable of seeing many things all at once than of mark-
ing a single matter in particular. But Captain Staples and
Keeps were at no loss to perceive the nature of the stratagem
which had been employed, and what they didn't say, as they
stared helplessly at each other, was very eloquent. Keeps
was the first to recover, and having done so, he expressed his
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 217
feelings by a strong volley of oaths. The venerable captain
exclaimed :
« Here's villainy ! here's roguery ! here's iniquity for a man
that's young ! I'm d d if this world'U be worth living in
when Sassafras and his partners in rascality and audacity have
come to be as old as I be."
The bell was loudly rung and the gray mare was brought
back to the starting-post. Tom Scarlet displayed the ease
and mastery of practised and noble horsemanship, so that
Black Dick and the wooden-headed darkey exchanged looks,
and the young K'iowa, standing at Cinnamon's side, uttered an
exclamation of delight.
A start was soon made, in spite of the inability of Jagger
to control his horse. On the other hand, the mare had the
steady air of an old practitioner who knew what was wanted
as well as her experienced and accomplished rider. The
White Horse was a little in the lead when the start was given,
and at the shout which followed it, he got the better of Jagger
at once, and dashed away in front at a great rate. At the
quarter-pole he led ten lengths, and at the half-mile as much
as twenty, whereat the unwary ones and those of the Indians
who were not of Cinnamon's tribe, set up a great shout in an-
ticipation of an easy victory. For the next quarter of a mile
the mare held her own, and when they reached the starting-
post again the lead of the White Horse was much diminished.
The mare was going with an easy, level stroke, and under a
good pull, while the White Horse was without support, under
no control, and, as Sassafras remarked to Campau, " running
all over the course." But his speed and resolution were such
that with any one of even moderate capacity to ride him he
must have won the heat. With a good pull in the first half
of the second mile he could not have lost it. He was still
leading at the end of a mile and a half, but the mare had
stolen forward inch by inch, and was within three lengths of
him. Another furlong and Tom Scarlet shot her up to his
girths all at once. The horse was not beaten, but Jagger was.
As he saw the mare's head opposite his knee he uttered an ex-
clamation. Letting go the off rein to ply the whip, he pulled
upon the near one. In went the spurs unconsciously. With
a furious kick, and then a mighty lunge and leap, the White
218 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
Horse cleared the feuce, rau away in the iufiekl, and pitched
his rider off into the mud on the margin of the pond in the
centre. The mare went on, distanced her antagonist as a
matter of course, and won amidst the shouts of the majority,
but the bitter execrations of Staples and Keeps.
" You rode like a captain — a master of the art !" said Sas-
safras to Tom Scarlet, as he ungirthed the saddle. " By Jove,
at the critical instant you shot her up alongside of him like
an arrow from the bow. It is well enough he acted as you
predicted he would, and bolted out of the course, for other-
wise, with a change of riders after the heat, it might have
been a tough job to beat him."
" Ay, Sassafras. You can see what a horse he would be in
slap-up good condition, with a horseman on his back, for a
steeple-chase. You know he's fat as a bullock fit to kill
inside, and had the worst rider that ever crossed a horse."
"It is all true, Tom. By the gods, what a jumper he is!
When he took Jagger over the fence it was with a leap as
though he would clear the Rocky Mountains. I wonder Jag-
ger didn't fall off then. But get weighed, and let us clinch
this business."
The dark man was found to be the proper weight. The
manager pronounced the mare the winner, and in the midst of
the clamor which followed, her rider, to escape further notice,
went off to the fort with Campau. Sassafras became so pop-
ular that he received an ovation, and if the scene of the race
had been in one of the States, a proposition would probably
have been made to nominate and run him for Congress. It
was astonishing to find out how many there were who had
expected and even predicted the result of the match and the
method by which Sassafras would achieve his victory, all
along. Even those who had laid their money the other way
declared that they were not disappointed in the least. They
had always thought it would be just about as it had turned
out. They had lost their money, which was really a very
small matter, and could be made up another day, as their
judgment was confirmed and their expectations were verified.
Another time they should follow the dictates of their own
knowledge and common sense. On this occasion they had
been misled by Staples, who was getting advanced in years.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 219
poor old man ! and by the English gentleman, who was a d — d
fool, and no doubt always had been. This was pronounced with
emphasis, within hearing of the man himself; and it was sad.
He had scrambled out of the mud in wretched plight and
much crestfallen; and here was he, the man of wealth and
station, the relative of noblemen and bishops — for all the
crowd knew to the contrary, as it had been so announced —
here was he, an object of contempt and derision to fellows in
buckskin shirts and moccasins, whose possessions consisted of
a horse, a rifle, and a knife. Here was a fall, my masters !
Staples was not there just then, and for this Jagger was pro-
foundly thankful. He feared the vindictive old man so much
that he even felt a flash of gratitude to Sassafras because his
stratagem in regard to the reputed lameness of the mare would
divert attention in some measure from his own inefficiency as
a rider.
Meanwhile the captain, assisted bv his darkies, was enframed
in chasing the White Horse in vain, and in devoting Sassa-
fras, Jagger, and nearly ^everybody else to the infernal gods.
Keeps, too cunning to waste his wind in running after another
man's horse, had sought and found his confidential friend, the
wooden-headed darkey. Catcliing him by the throat, the
exasperated henchman cried, " What's the meaning of this,
you black villain ? What the devil does it mean ?"
" You mean why de Euglishman let go de horse's head and
ram in de spurs, Massa Keeps? Why, I was just going to ax
you what dat mean, sah !"
" The mare, you black rascal ! what does that mean ?"
" Oh, de mar' !" replied the black, with a vacant stare.
" Well, 'bout de mar', I tell you afo' I believe dey raise de
bsrry debbil. Here was Sassafras, and de Medicine Man, and
Black Dick, and Black Dick's great-grandmother, Massa
Keeps ; and I was satisfied they cure de mar', if dey hab to
raise de debbil."
" None of your humbug !" cried Keeps. " I'll choke you if
you don't tell me something better than this. I have lost a
heap of money to the Frenchman — Jules,"
" Why, Massa Keeps, hab Jules lay money wid you ?"
" He has, and won it," replied Keeps.
" I b'lieve den de debbil not only raised, but still above
220 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
ground and hab power. I didn't t'ink Jules would have beat
you, Massa Keeps. It's too bad !"
" Sassafras himself comes this way. I'm off," said Keeps ;
" but before I go tell me who was the fellow that rode the
mare !"
" Massa Keeps," replied the wooden-headed darkey, with a
profound and solemn look, not unmixed with a sort of satis-
faction and veneration, " I verily b'lieve he was de berry debbil
what dey raise ; for de Medicine Man "
Before he could conclude Keeps menaced him with his fist,
and went off to avoid the man of the Missouri border.
But if he was unable to conclude his tale then, the thick-
headed black was able to tell it to the end many another time.
As he grew older his skull seemed to grow thicker, and he
looked more hopelessly vacant than ever. But as he was a
man of tried fidelity he became the trusty favorite of Sassafras,
and had charge of many good horses. He proclaimed his firm
belief in the mysteries of the Voodhoo and the sorceries of the
medicine men of the wild tribes of Indians. To many a lis-
tening group at the stables he would tell how Sassafras and the
Great Medicine Man of the Cheyennes raised the devil to cure
Virginia's leg, which Satan refused to do until Sassafras bound
himself to let him ride her.
The White Horse led Captain Staples and his men a weary
dance, and was at last caught by Black Dick. The old man
walked up to receive the bridle, but Sassafras took it, saying:
"This is my horse, captain, and I'll take care of him. The
beaten horse goes, with the stake.?, to me."
The captain grew pale, but not with fear. Under some
circumstances he would have resisted and tried an appeal to
force; but that was out of the question there and then. There
were next to none to take part with him. The border men
and hunters declared that the best horse and the best man had
won the race. The Indians and half-breeds had no incentive
to take up his quarrel, but a very great motive to remain
quiet, inasmuch as the Cheyenne chief and his Western
braves would cry their war-cry and strike for Sassafras until
the prairie ran red with blood if a quarrel began. Swelling
with hate and rage, and eager to visit his wrath upon some-
body, the captain retired to his shanty. He sought out Jag-
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 221
ger and took him with him, much agaiost the will of that
forlorn and discomfited rogue. The latter would have prefer-
red any other company to that of the captain just then, but
he had not the resolution to leave him. The vindictive old
man covered him with reproaches, which were mainly deserved,
and with ridicule of his pretensions as a rider. From time to
time he changed that topic to another hardly less disagreeable
at the moment to Jagger, viz. : the combined good fortune and
villainy of Sassafras, which was, he said, clean against the old
proverb, " A fool for luck," according to which Jagger cer-
tainly ought to have won. For some time the latter made no
reply. At lengtli, however, he was goaded to desperation, and
being a proficient in the slang which was cultivated to perfec-
tion in the gin-shops near Seven Dials and the slums of Drury
Lane, he turned upon his venerable friend with such force and
variety of vituperation that the old man was silenced. Tliere
they sat in the fast gathering gloom, each cursing the other in
his heart. The captain, ignorant of the loss of the thousand
guineas staked the night before, was revolving other schemes
by means of which to come at the supposed contents of Jag-
ger's brass-bound box, while that individual was considering
whether it would not be better for him to shake Staple? ofi*
and make a friend of Sassafras. There was, however, this
difliculty : he had not much money left, except that which
was in the Bank of Louisiana.
CHAPTER XXIV.
"I dreamed a doleful dream yest'reenj
I fear there will be sorrow !
I dreamed I pu'd the heather green,
Wi' my true love on Yarrow."
" Captain of our fairy band,
Helena is here at hand ;
And the youth mistook by me
Pleading for a lover's fee :
Shall we their fond pageant see?
Lord, what fools these mortals be \"
THE various parties gathered at and about the post had
prepared to break up and leave its vicinity. Some, in-
deed, had already gone. Captain Staples, devoured by rage
222 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
and by the pangs of disappointed avarice, had left the scene
of his discomfiture. On the second day after the race he had
set his train in motion towards the East, revolving schemes of
revenge against Sassafras, but not quite clear as to how he
should endeavor to put them in execution. The unhappy
Jagger, sorely tried by his losses, was with him, more like a
captive than a free agent. He had not then told Staples of
the loss of the thousand guineas, but it was a secret which
could not long be kept. Keeps had suspicions before they
left the post that there had been some secret transaction be-
tween Sassafras and Jagger, but he was at a loss to guess the
nature of it. He waited for an opportunity to worm the mat-
ter out of Jagger, hoping to establish a hold upon him which
might be useful in the future. At first he was inclined to
think that the race had been sold to Sassafras by Jagger.
The idea was, however, soon discarded, as Keeps was unable
to see how the rider, in such case, could have cheated any one
except himself. He considered it certain that in the course
of their lonely journey of many days he would have ample
opportunities to get the truth from Jagger, and he said noth-
ing of his suspicions to the captain, whose temper was morose
and irritable to a degree of savage sullenness. They had
taken a difficult route, one leading into the rugged hills lying
to the eastward, and never travelled save by Indians, or the
roaming border hunters on horseback. Its obstructions and
inconveniences had been pointed out to Staples by Keeps and
Kirby, but the old man had chosen it for purposes of his own,
after diligent but cautious inquiries respecting the intentions
of Sassafras ; and silencing objections and remonstrances in a
peremptory manner, he struck into the eastern hills with his
train.
The Indians were also on the move, mostly to the south-
ward. The Cheyennes were divided into three parties. The
chief with ten of his men remained at the camp near the fort.
The others, in two bands, rode away to the west, to hunt the
buffalo on the plains, until Cinnamon should come up, when
the whole party would begin their march toward the South
Fork of the Solomon. Sassafras and his Missouri band were
preparing to leave. His business at the fort was settled up,
though the gold remained in the safe of the manager, and
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 223
wTiat he called his " frolic," wilh the border mea and hunters
of the post, -SYas now ended after several days and nights of
conviviality. It was just break of day, and all hands in the
camp were astir, when he and Tom Scarlet strolled up the lit-
tle valley to its head, and drank of the spring which gusher?
out from beneath the rock. The paint and dye had been re-
moved from the person of the young Englishman, by Fran-
9ois, and, in appearance, Tom was almost himself again.
" We shall drink little more of this water," said Sassafras.
" Our sojourn here is about ended, for when we return from
the hunt we shall stop but a few hours. The equestrian games
are over ! There will be no time to train Danger, as you say
you will remain but a few days with me at St. Jo. I shall be
sorry when we have to part, and have half a mind to go on to
!N"ew York or Baltimore with you, and see you on the ship
which will take you to the little island over the main."
" Do so. Sassafras !" replied Tom Scarlet. " I am for ever
bound to you. You must keep Danger as a small token of
my gratitude. He is a good horse, and no man is as well able
to manage him as you are."
" I accept the gift as freely as you make it," said Sassafras ;
*' and if he wins when I train and run him, I will write and let
you know. I would you could stay much longer, and see other
parts of America. However, you can come back. Your visit
has not been fruitless. You have recovered the White Horse,
and got back the money Jagger defrauded you and the gypsy
of — that is, you will get it when we reach St. Jo.''
" And solely by your means, Sassafras."
" Not solely ! We all did our work well, and I like your way
of riding. The AYhite Horse would not have been an easy
customer, even for Virginia, if he had been well trained and
ridden. The rush upset Jagger, and took the little horse-
sense he ever had out of him. It wasn't the horse we beat,
but the man. What a game it was, when he chucked him
over his head into the mud !"
" I didn't see that !" said Tom. " It must have been good."
" It was good ! and then to see old Staples running after the
loose horse, knowing they were beat, and swearing two curses
to every step — that was rich ! Well, it's over, and we have
one thing more before us — the grand hunt beyond the Neosho.
224 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
You'll say it equals anything you have taken part in here.
If we have the luck I anticipate, we'll be back here short of a
week, and bring the heads and horns of two or three elks with
us. I shall strike right for the Neosho, and never pause long
enough to pull a trigger on the way, unless a big buck crosses
our bridles, and stops to see who rides so far in the hills and
woods."
" I should hardly have expected you to select thoroughbred
horses for service in this hunt. Many think them ill-fitted
for four or five days' riding and wild fare," said Tom.
" A gross error !" replied Sassafras, decisively ; " my expe-
rience proves it. The sound, stout-bred blood-horse will stand
more than any other that goes on four legs. He is the best
for nearly everything, except slow, heavy draught, when mere
bulk tells."
" But the young chief was lame, and he and the White
Horse are both very full in flesh," said Tom.
" All the better for our present purpose ! They are not
going to run against Virginia, but to carry us at a moderate
stiff* pace in the woods. When we reach our hunting-grounds,
they will have plenty of time to crop the grass and to eat the
wild-pea vine, which is the best green feed I know of, next to
blue grass. I'll answer for the horses ; and we shall take a
third to pack the hides and horns we may get."
" But the lameness of the Young Chief?"
" Is cured," said Sassafras. " The fact is he never was very
lame. In my plan there was no use for him sound. But he
was nothing like as lame as the gray mare," he added, with a
laugh.
*' I should like to know how that lameness was produced
and so suddenly cured," said Tom.
" It was a very simple matter. I may tell you before you
leave the country ; but it is a thing only to be practised in
an emergency, to defeat a rogue. It is like putting one of a
man's feet in a very tight boot. The cure is like ripping it
off."
"It was, then, the bandage!"
" No ! but what was beneath the bandage. But come ! we
will eat breakfast ; and then for the saddle — off and away !
Before sundown to-morrow we shall be on the left bank of
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 225
the Neosho, and the morning after we will seek the elk. You
don't seem to be as eager for the grand hunt as you were."
" I am eager enough for the hunt, but there is a drag upon
my spirits," replied Tom. " I dreamed a dream last night of
home and May Bullfinch. We were together in her flower-
garden at Hawk'ell, plucking the roses, pinks and sprigs of the
sweetbriar. Then again in the wood among the primroses."
" Ay, ay !" said Sassafras, " among the hazel and the haw-
thorn thickets. ' I know a bank where the wild thyme grows !'
But why should such a dream as this dash your spirits ? Pluck-
ing flowers like this with the maiden you love should rather
forebode joy, and be a token of a coming bridal."
" Dreams, they say, go by contraries, and I feel disturbed —
unkid, as it is called in our parts."
" More fool you then," said Sassafras. " Plucking roses in
dreams a sign of sorrow ! Pluck up your native sense and
resolution ! Let us eat and mount !"
Two hours had passed. The bright sun rising in the clear,
rejoicing sky, over the fair face of the goodly earth, lit up the
spangles of the morning dew beneath the variegated bushes.
The young Kiowa sat on a rock just below the crest of the
hill to the southward of the Cheyenne camp. He leaned his
head upon his hand, and with the sunlight glancing on the
beads and glossy hair, which hung over his cheek, looked to
the southward over the far-reaching prospect. It extended
many a mile. Hills and vales and rocky dells, virgin from
Nature's hand, covered with forest trees, among whose foliage
of green were the rich autumn tints of crimson and gold, all
bright in the morning sun of the unclouded west. The land-
scajie was wild, but it was beautiful in its very loneliness.
The horsemen of the hunt had just disappeared over the sum-
mit of a lower hill to the southward, and the youth suflered
his eyes to wander from the course they had taken. There
was a grand sweep of country around him. To the right he
could see the termination of the broken timbered land, and
perceive the shimmer of the mist, not yet dispelled on the
edge of the great and distant plains, like the sunlit surface
of a silvery sea. To the left, far in the east, over a vast ex-
panse of hill and forest, were the tops of the mountains, their
westward slopes in shade. For awhile the boy was silent, but
15
226 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
at the end of some minutes, passed, apparently, in deep reflec-
tion, he sang with a low, but full and rich voice, these words :
In the old days when the world was young,
And there lingered strains of the anthem sung
On creation day by the woods and rills ;
The laughing rivers and the glad, green hills,
Our fathers lived o'er the Eastern deep,
On the crown of the regal Indian steep ;
Fair was their lot as the pearl unstrung,
In the old days when the world was young.
God's fair young earth had a gladsome face,
Joy was His gift to our Aryan race —
Sorrow and guilt had not left us their scars ;
Of all in the world we were nearest the stars.
Loving we roved, like the wild birds at wing,
In the meadow-gales of the flowery spring ;
Peace was among us — no anger nor strife —
Love ruled this earth in its morning of life.
Sweetly and blithely our gay songs were sung,
In the old days when the world was young.
The singer ceased, and Sassafras burst through the bushes
of the crest above, saying : " At last ! I knew from the first
moment I laid eyes on you that there was somebody other
than a Kiowa, or any other Indian, under your paint and
clothes. Who and what are you ? There needs no further
mystery. Speak to me as a friend. As a friend I will serve
you. You are not young Bullfinch, eh ?"
" Young Jack ! No, I am not Young Jack. But my part
must have been poorly played."
"Not so, lad. It imposed upon Frangois for a time, and it
has imposed upon Tom Scarlet all the time."
" Poor Tom ! What a horrid fright you made of him as a
Cheyenne. I thought I should have died with laughing."
" Well, now," said Sassafras, " I thought that was a very
pretty piece of work for our means. We had not the appli-
ances that made you up so fine and gay. You surpassed for
handsomeness, but not for an Indian. Boy, I have been too
much among them to be deceived, and Cinnamon shunned an
explanation. Tell me who you are."
" I am not of Indian blood, and yet I am. I am not of
white blood, and yet I am," replied the youth, looking down.
" Our people are called gypsies by those who build towns and
live in them. AVe love the heaths and the woods."
" That is not strange," said Sassafras. " I myself soon grow
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 227
tired of being corralled in a sort of ' canyon' among houses,
and make for the woods and prairies again. The gypsies came
first from Egypt, I believe."
" No. The dwellers in the tents, now^ called gypsies, came,
as our traditions tell, a long and weary way, always trending
towards the West, from the Highlands of India, Asia. We
have nothing in common with the Egytians but a sound. We
never had."
" It was then to the people of that old and remote land that
the song you sung referred ?"
" Ay, to the ancient race who peopled the Hindu Koosh and
lived nearest the stars. From them we descended, and our
blood, after so many centuries and so many wanderings, is
still unmixed. Sassafras, the oldest families of Europe are
people of yesterday to us ; and we follow the habits our
fathers followed in the old days when the w^orld was young."
" From your English, I reckon you were born over there,"
said the AVestern man, indicating Britain by a wave of his
hand towards the rising sun.
" Yes, I was born in England, amid the bushes of a hazel
copse, in the merry spring-time, when the young lambs frisk
in the meadows, when the throstle sings in the grove, and the
hedge-sparrow, silly bird, sits on a great Qgg with foolish pride
and hatches out a cuckoo."
"And your name?" said Sassafras.
" Was Cotswold in the Midland vales of England. Now^ I
am called the Singing Bird of the Cheyennes."
" Well, young Master Cotswold !" said Sassafras, seating
himself beside the youth ; " although time presses, and Fran-
cois will wonder why I tarry, instead of joining Tom Scarlet
and riding on, I should like to hear what brought you here so
far. I think you have been trending a good deal towards the
West since you left the place your Aryan people landed at,
when they struck this shore of the Atlantic ocean. Besides, I
want to know where you are going to when we leave the post
to its traders, hunters and Indian hangers-on !"
The youth looked down, and, avoiding the eye of Sassafras,
said : " You may have heard Tom Scarlet speak of us Cots-
wolds. Many a time we pitched our tents in the green lanes
and sheltered nooks which lie about the Grange, in his father's
and his brother's time, and, since they died, in his own."
228 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N.
" I have heard him speak of Jack, and I think Cotswold
was the surname he called him by ; he was one of the men
Jagger owed money to."
" He was, and he is my uncle."
" And he spoke of Jack's nephew, the boy Ike," said Sas-
safras.
"I am not the boy Ike!" said the youth, with a merry
glance of the eye, which quickly fell again.
" Tom mentioned no other boy of the name," said Sassafras.
After a pause, he added quickly : " he mentioned a girl,
though. Let me sea, what was her name ?"
" Do you think it was Miriam ?" replied the youth, drawing
off a little from the reaching hand of the hunter.
" I think I was a blinking owl by daylight !" cried Sassa-
fras. " I knew you were no Kiowa, nor Indian of any tribe ;
but I got on a regular false trail, I own. You are "
" The Singing Bird of the wild Cheyennes here !" replied
the youth, with a burst of mirth.
" Ay ! but about the tents in the green lanes, and under the
hawthorn bushes, you were Miriam. When Tom Scarlet set
out in chase of Jagger, the White Horse, and the stolen money,
you followed in another ship. I see it all now, as clear as if
I had been there myself," said Sassafras gravely.
" Not quite all, I think, though you are marvellously acute,'*
replied Miriam.
" I'll be bound you are in love with Tom Scarlet and fol-
lowed him for love."
" I'll be bound I didn't," returned Miriam sharply. " Why,
what do you know about love ?" she added gaily.
"Precious little, except love for a good horse and a true
rifle, and a little frolic now and then, ending perhaps in a free
fight once in a while. But you need not tell me that you came
for nothing."
"Listen, and you shall hear no lies," said Miriam. "You
need not come any nearer. I never heard that you were deaf.
I like Tom Scarlet ; he has often been kind to me and my peo-
ple. But a lass of his own country folk loves him, and he
loves her. O, Sassafras! the sweetest maid in the fairest vale
of England ! the Rose of Hawk'll ! Jocund as the morning
lark in summer time ! precious as the twilight hours of even-
THE WHITE HOESE OF WOOTTON. 229
tide in spring ! And then the only daughter of one of the best
men that rides to market and a-field in all the broad midland
counties."
" I have heard of this maiden. She was left behind, you
know, when you followed Tom to America."
" I followed my own chase, most likely like a wild goose as
I was. Remember, I am a gypsy !" replied Miriam. " I had
a purpose in what I did. It was to see that the rascal Jagger
should not get clear away with his plunder if I could help it.
At New Orleans I found out men who had been sheltered in
our tents when the Bow street runners were hot after them.
By their means I kept watch and ward over Jagger. Chance,
a lucky chance, threw Pierre Langlois in my way. He is a
good man, and has been like a father to me. I saw how I
might follow Jagger and Staples in disguise, unknown and
unsuspected. I wrote to Tom Scarlet and to you. I had been
taught by May Bullfinch's mother, a kind and gracious lady,
laid long ago under the boughs of the great elms in the old
churchyard. You know the rest ! I have done but little ;
still, that little was to let you know where to meet your man,
and I don't regret the adventure. All the trouble and fatigue
of it have been paid for twice over by meeting with the Chey-
enne chief — a noble fellow ! a king among men of common
stamp !"
" Ay, ay ! Pierre Langlois was like a father. What may
Cinnamon have been like ?" said Sassafras.
" Like a brother ! like what I think a brother ought to be.
I never had one," replied Miriam, frankly.
" Hem !" uttered Sassafras, after a pause ; " you don't love
Tom Scarlet, but the chief may love you, eh ?"
" Lord ! Sassafras ! you question one as you would look a
horse in the mouth!" returned Miriam. " Do you think I am
to be wooed like a beggar under a bush ?"
" The chief is a very fine fellow ! A better man after scalps
nobody would wish to see," said Sassafras, with deliberate
emphasis. " But to my knowledge he has already four or five
wives, each calculated to make her own ground good against
a new one with a paler face ; and, therefore, Miriam, when I
return from the grand hunt, instead of going with Cinnamon
to the Pocky Mountains, you shall * trend to the Northeast,*
and go to St. Jo. with me."
230 THE WHITE HORSE OF WUOTTON.
" I Dever thought of goiog near the mountains with Cinna-
mon, or anybody else," returned the gypsy. "You talk as if
you had the command and disposal of one."
" Now, girl, you look at me!" said Sassafras. " I am a plain
man. I live, when at home, on the Missouri river, near St. Jo.,
where I have a plantation. I own five or six race-horses ; I
know the use of the rifle ; I love sport and have seen a good
deal of it. You are hundreds of miles from any man more
disposed or better able to be your friend than I am. I never
was in love — I don't pretend to be now ; but it seems to
me that I may fall in some day, and prove tender and true;
where acquaintance and friendship are, love may come at a
racing pace. Miriam, I have made up my mind that you
shall go to St. Jo., when we return from this hunt. When
you see my horse's head coming over yonder hill, wash the
paint away and be yourself."
" There is a certain impediment to my doing so," said she.
" And what may that be ?"
" The lack of suitable petticoats and other things that you
know nothing about," she replied with a laugh. " But seriously,
Sassafras, you should waste no more time here now. "When
you return I shall be glad to see you, and then we will decide
as to which road I shall travel. I suppose it may be left un-
decided until then. You seem rather slack for a hunting
morning."
" No, I am not slack," he replied ; " but I have come upon
a sort of game I never thought of. Keep close to the chief
until I return, or to Pierre Langlois. However, as you are
known to be with them, and seem to be a spirited boy, there is
no fear of any rudeness being shown. But that throwing of
the knife young Joe told of. How about that ?"
" A mere juggler's trick, taught me by a mountebank. All
sorts of people used to come to our tents at times."
" Well, Miriam, good-by — good-by for the present."
With this the border rover sought his horse, and having
mounted rode away. " Strange," said he, " that I should be
so deceived. The paint and the breeches done it, especially
the last. Yet 1 was an owl not to see that the boy was no boy,
but a girl. I never heard her speak before. The voice would
have informed me, even though it was the gypsy language,
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 231
■which may be the same as Kiowa, for all anybody can tell.
Her face must be handsome, for even under the paint I can
see that its lineaments are good, and her eyes are beautiful.
She has a voice like the fall of water on a summer's day ; and
no young doe is more graceful in movement and figure. 'Tis
a comely maiden, without doubt. What a wife she'll make
for somebody ! For the matter of that, why not for me ? I
want no pale-faced doll, with weak nerves and headaches, but
one of tact and spirit, able to keep the roof overhead while I
am away. Perhaps to ride and shoot upon occasions. She
may suit me, and it would be a blessed thing for the people on
the plantation to have such a mistress. I have no one to please
but myself My sister and my cousin Elizabeth, being of the
Old Dominion blood, might object to the gypsy. But, what
then ? I'll have my way ! They need not know it at first.
She might pass for a Spanish Creole, and, as she says, the oldest
families of British descent are but people of yesterday to hers.
It may come about."
Now here was a shocking instance of disregard of the beau-
tiful principles of woman's rights. The man partly settles the
matter in his own mind, as though whatever he desired must
govern ; and this has always been the way with the male
tyrant, against whom America and Britain now afford some
prospects of successful rebellion. Perhaps Miriam was not to
be overborne in this off-hand manner. She had already put
the on, and might assert her " rights." Meantime, she
remained near the rock, and watched Sassafras until his form
and horse were hid as he dashed into the bushes on the slope
of the further hill. Then, O lamentable truth ! it appeared
that she had not the spirit to assert her " rights." In spite of
her descent and independent habits, in spite of her arms, her
paint and feathers, and her very handsome trousers, she proved
as ready to meekly meet the half-advances of the "horrid
man," as any maiden of Anglo-Saxon lineage.
" Heigho !" she exclaimed. " He is well-born and well-to-
do. Bold, brave and honest. Far from bad-looking, to my
mind. Much better than the youth of cream-and-strawberry
complexions in England. This is a man ! No gypsy can
compare with him. Besides, I don't want a gypsy husband,
sleeping in the tents or the fern all day, and poaching all night.
232 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
The ties that bind me to the tribe are thin and ^Yorn. I love
the pleasant fields and thick overhanging woods of dear Old
England, and their green glades in the gloaming, when the
leverets play. Her kindly people have done well by me. I
love the scent of violets in the spring, of rich bean blossoms
in the summer days, the cuckoo's quaint and distant call, the
coo of cushats to their nesting mates, the songs of birds from
every bush and brake, the carol of the lark, unseen in the
bright, blue sky, and the sweet sound of bells upon the breeze.
Heigho ! ' It was a lover and his lass that thro' the green
corn-fields did pass.' "
CHAPTEK XXV.
"Full moon, high sea,
Great man shalt thou be !
Red dawning, stormy sky,
Bloody death shalt thou die."
IN the wild section of country to the southeast of the trading
post, and in a rough gorge between the broken hills. Cap-
tain Staples had made his camp for a short but indefinite time.
Instead of going south, or a little to the westward of south,
as he would have done had he sought the best route homeward
from the fort, he had travelled due east for many miles, and
then abruptly southeast by south through a sort of pass in the
broken ridges. In the rocky gorge which now contained his
^vagons and animals, he had halted a night and a day. An-
other night was coming on apace. The sun nearly touched
the tops of the trees which crowded the ridges to the west-
ward, and the clouds in that quarter of the sky were edged
with crimson and gold, like tents with royal fringe, for the
reception of the retiring day. A cool breeze blowing from
the northwest gave some tokens of freshening into a gale as
the darkness came on.
The captain moved about his encampment with an air of
dogged resolution mixed with impatience. He spoke neither
to Keeps nor Kirby, and regarded Jagger with glances which
indicated anger and contempt. As the shades fell and the
loom of the hills w^as cloaked with the approaching darkness,
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 233
a mounted Indian came into the camp. The man looked fresh
and able to stand much greater fatigue than he had under-
gone, but his horse had evidently been ridden fast and far
since the dawn of day. The captain took the Indian aside,
and they held a brief conference, partly in English and partly
in the Choctaw tongue. The first part appeared to be very
satisfactory to Captain Staples, but not the last. The Indian
either gave a dogged denial to some assertion made by the old
man, or met some proposition of his with a flat rejection.
The captain retired to his tent and called for Keeps, who
was close at hand. He found Staples seated on a bundle of
horse-clothes and buffalo robes. His elbows were upon his
knees, his head rested on his hands, and with his hard, dark
face he looked like some ugly idol of the heathen. The demi-
john containing his " medicine " was between his legs. He
first invited Keeps to drink, and even told him to pour out for
himself The henchman speedily made avail of this unusual
liberality and confidence by securing about half a pint of the
liquor before the demijohn left his hands. It may be doubted
whether, in any of the brawls and rough-and-tumble fights in
which he had been engaged, this worthy had ever gripped a
throat with more resolution and tenacity than he clasped the
neck of the huge bottle on this occasion. But, although the
captain saw the dimensions of the dram his man was pouring
out, he made no effort to check him. Thereupon Keeps maade
up his mind that his services would soon be in request for some
extraordinary purpose. After smacking his lips with much
satisfaction, he lit his pipe, and took a seat opposite his chief,
inw^ardly determined to make a good bargain before he con-
sented to go beyond the terms of his engagement. The captain
looked at Keeps some time before he spoke. The henchman
looked at him in turn, as much as to say : " We understand
one another. Out with it !"
" Keeps," said Staples, "I believe there is confidence between
you and me. I think each of us knoW'S the other means fair,
between man and man, eh ?"
" Ay, ay ! That's all right, but come to the p'int. AVhat
is a-going to put this confidence on trial ?"
" You don't like the idea of being robbed by Sassafras. I
think you've no confidence in him, and his way of grabbing
everything, eh, Keeps?" said the old man, feeling his way.
234 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
" As to grabbing, I never had the good fortune to meet any
of them excellent people \vhat don't grab \vhen they have a
chance, and, speaking in a general way, I've got no confidence
in anybody but myself You come to the p'int at once."
" Very well ! the point is this — shall we sit down, robbed
and swindled as we are by Sassafras, or shall we act in confi-
dence, and take our own again ?"
" Who do you call we /" said Keeps.
" You and me — nobody else ! The Englishman is a fool
and coward," returned Staples.
" We found that out some time ago," returned Keeps.
" I believe we did," said Staples. " I have now, however,
found something else out, quite as much to the purpose. This
idiot, going upon his own conceit, and keeping his doings
secret from me — I say from me, Keeps."
" I hear you. Some would have thought he could not have
deceived you easily."
"They might have thought so; but he did it," replied
Staples. " Concealing his operations from me, he walks right
into the trap set for him by Sassafras. He lays a bet with
this villain at four to one on his White Horse, by which he
lost a thousand guineas to the villain, and these golden guineas
Sassafras has got. Think of it ! A thousand guineas in gold
— coined gold — British gold ! Ain't you astonished ?"
« No, I ain't," replied Keeps. " I knew all about it before
you spoke a w^ord."
« You knew all about it ! Shall I hear next that you were
in with Sassafras, and helped the villain to deceive and plun-
der this — this "
" Fool and idiot !" said Keeps. " No, you won't hear that.
I knew nothing of it until your friend, the gentleman, told me
all about it soon after we reached this camping-ground."
The old man paused in thought. He desired Keeps to take
another drink. Staples then said ; " Perhaps this gentleman
also told you who he really is ?"
" He did. I assured him I must know everything before I
could do him any good. The truth is, captain, that he is
mortally afraid of you, and will turn on you at the first oppor-
tunity. But for the money he has at New^ Orleans, and the
fear that somebody from England will lay an embargo on it,
THE WHITE HOESE OF WOOTTOK 235
he would have left our jDarty and gone off with Sassafras to
St. Jo."
Captain Staples relieved his feelings by a few round oaths
and some remarks touching the ingratitude of mankind in
general, and that part of it with whom it was his misfortune
to come in contact in particular. He then said :
" With all his foolishness, this fellow is as big a rogue as
Sassafras himself. But for all that, we must get back his
money from the villain."
The henchman looked at his chief with a cunning and an
eager eye, one in which insatiable greed, with cruel resolution
and abundant craft, shone deadly and red.
" Yes, we must get back this gold for him." The hench-
man's countenance fell. " And for ourselves, Keeps. In a
venture like this we shall be entitled to keep about three-
fourths of what is recovered."
" I'll be d — d if we shan't be fully entitled to keep it all.
I go in for Keeps, and nothing else," said Keeps in reply.
" This man is useless — not able to get a dollar of it, or to help
us in any way. Then why should he have any of it ?"
" For two reasons," replied Staples. " He has money and
means at Orleans, and he might make trouble when he gets
there. We have enemies at Orleans, Keeps."
" He may never get there. I got no use for him there, if
we are to lose a pot of money by his going there."
" But hear the other reason. There is another very strong
reason why we must treat him as a partner. It is this : Sas-
safras is not the man to give up the gold quietly, or to rest
easy under the loss after it has been recovered. He'll raise
h — 11 from St. Anthony's Falls to the passes of the river below
Orleans, and from St. Jo. to the Rocky Mountains. The villain
has many friends. Most of them are villains of his own stamp !
Now^ by acting in the name of Grosvernor, Jagger, or whatever
it may please him to call himself next, and taking the money
as his property — property he has been swindled out of — we
shall do a right and justifiable thing, and public opinion, when
we reach the part where there is any uncorrupted by Sassafras
and villains of his character, will sustain us."
" Yes, but what will public opinion say about our giving this
man the money back ?" said Keeps.
236 TEE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
" That is altogether another matter. Don't you see that
Jagger, being what he is, dare not make trouble ^vith us, if we
but have the name of a little law and right on our side ^ You
leave him to me !"
Keeps was silent. The old man watched his face, and at
last caught the cold glitter of his eye.
" Sassafras will be hard to deal with, hard as the steel of
this knife," said Keeps. " Besides, he may not have the gold
with him upon this hunt. It may be left in the fort or hid iu
a safe cached
" He will — he will have it !" replied Staples. " Leave it at
the fort ! why, Keeps, what are you thinking of? Do you
think that I or that you would leave such a sum at the fort, or
anywhere else about these parts, when we could carry it with
us ? AVhy the fool who brought it from England had sense
enough to keep it on his person, although he had me to trust
to. Sassafras has the money with him, and I know where-
abouts he will be to-morrow, a couple of hours after noon-
day."
" And I know he'll fight like ten tigers, if we are to meet
him when he is on horseback with his arms in his hands. That
plan will never do. I'm no more afraid of being killed than
another, but Sassafras is a dead shot and quick as lightning.
Besides, he will not be alone."
"You had better hear the plan before you condemn it,"
said Staples. " I do not propose the meeting of him when he
has his arms in his hands. By striking his trail an hour after
he has passed to-morrow, we may follow and find out where
he will camp. We'll take him when he's asleep. If he
chooses to fight, rather than give up the man's gold, let him
do it. If he is killed, the border will be rid of a villain ;
justice and law will be on our side, and what is quite as much
to the purpose, we shall have the money. Now there's the
plan, and I doubt whether anybody can propose a better one
as matters stand."
" This'll be a tough job," said Keeps, seizing the demijohn
uninvited, and pouring out a strong dose of the medicine.
" Not so tough as you imagine," replied Staples. " Our
measures will be well considered. I have intelligence from the
Indian, that Sassafras started this morning, with no more than
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 237
one man in his company, and he a fellow of no account. I
can guess whereabouts they will camp to-night. To-morrow
we can strike their trail at the camp, and follow it cautiously
until we find where they leave their horses to begin their hunt.
There or thereabouts they will camp to-morrow night. That
being known, we can come up near their camp-fire towards
the dead time of night, when they are fast asleep, and — and
possess ourselves of this money without any trouble."
" Not till we have knocked Sassafras square on the head, or
put the steel through his heart — to say nothing of the other
man," replied Keeps. " Who goes in this business besides us
and the Englishman ?"
" Kirby — we must have Kirby. Not that he'll be wanted
to do anything more than be in reserve, in case of accidents,"
replied Staples.
" Why not the" Indian ? He could do more, and would
come cheaper than Kirby. Kirby is not the man for this quiet
midnight work, where the rustle of a leaf might spoil all. His
tread is like that of a bull-buffalo upon hard ground. Take
the Indian."
" The Indian refuses to do more than he has done," replied
the captain, with some disgust. " He is like all the rest — he
must ask his questions, and talk of Sassafras as if he was the
only white man worth much on the border. The times are
upside down," added the old man, feelingly. " I have seen
the day when that Indian would have helped to do anything
I proposed, no questions asked." After a few minutes, proba-
bly spent in silent regret over the degeneracy of the age from
the customs of the good old times, the captain said, " Kirby
will not earn, and must not have, much of the money. He
cannot in conscience ask more than one, or at most two, hun-
dred dollars. There will be nothing for him to do, but to
keep ward, while you and I settle the business."
" The main part of which settlement," said Keeps, " will de-
pend upon me. Now, it is a transaction that ought to be well
paid for. It ain't like killing an Indian or two, or making
use of a pistol or knife in a fight or a frolic. It requires
talents of a particular sort, and nerves of a peculiar order.
Them talents and nerves, I may say witliout boasting, I have
got ; but I shall not use 'em for nothing. Besides, look at the
238 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
strain it puts upon the conscience to crawl in like a wolf at
night and kill a good man asleep upon his back. You'll allow
Sassafras to be a real good man of his heft and inches?"
There was a sort of low growl from the chest of Staples,
who saw what this prelude, especially the allusion of Keeps
to the strain upon his conscience, was tending to. He made
a motion to the henchman, signifying that he should go on.
" Well, then," said Keeps, " I'll come to the p'int ! After
the Englishman's and Kirby's shares have been set off, there
will be about seven hundred sovereigns left. That is to be
equally divided between you and me."
" I don't see it in that light," said Staples, with some show
of alarm and discontent. " Consider the trouble and expense
I have been put to. Consider that I have planned the thing,
and that you are to help in the execution of it only — a mere
trifle ! a mere trifle. Keeps ! I could do it all myself!"
" You couldn't do it at all, and you know it," replied the
henchman. " In the first place, you are a little afeared of
Sassafras, and, asleep or awake, I shall have to deal with him.
Then, again, you are getting old and stiff, and would be sure
to rouse him, with pistol in one hand and knife in the other,
and get sent to kingdom-come instead of touching the money.
You can't get the first piece of this gold except through me,
and I'm resolved that the work which can only be done by
my ability, and with wear and tear upon my conscience, shall
be well paid for, if it is done at all !"
" Your conscience !" cried Staples, in a rage. " How many
men have you killed in your time, conscience or no con-
science ?"
" I don't know as I could exactly say, because I have
always thought that two who were shot by me, in difficulties,
would have recovered if the doctors hadn't killed 'em, so they
ought not to be counted," replied Keeps. " But this I do say,
that I never killed a man when he was asleep to get hold of
money, and as I think that likely to be a very difierent thing
upon the conscience to using pistol or knife in a promiscuous
and general way, I'm determined not to do it for nothing. If
half the seven hundred isn't enough for you, fix the matter
yourself, and count me out."
The old man was furious at what he considered the uncon-
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 239
scionable greed of liis accomplice, but as he could discover no
means of getting anything without the active aid of Keeps he
suppressed his rage. He made, however, a mental resolution
to secure the lion's share by some means or other, if it was
possible, before they reached the settlements. He signified his
assent to the arrangement named by Keeps, and again recited
his plan of action, going over the details in a slow, methodical
way, as though the business was nothing out of the common
order of things. Yet they both knew and felt that it was.
Staples had, in all probability, been at midnight massacres,
but it was in Indian warfare, and sanctioned in the minds of
such as he, as reprisals. Keeps had slain more than three or
four men, but it was when they were upon their legs, and not
for money. They did not attempt to di^^guise from themselves
the atrocity of the contemplated deed, but the magnitude of
the prize to be obtained overbore it, and the younger, but, at
that day, hardier villain of the two, " bent up each corporal
agent to the terrible feat."
The mode of operations being settled. Keeps, while still ap-
pearing to defer to the captain as his leader, virtually took the
ordering of affairs into his own hands. He wished Staples to
say nothiug to Kirby or to Jagger. The less said the better.
With any knowledge of the plan in hand Jagger would cause
much trouble, and by his fears and foolishness might do some-
thing which would bring about its defeat. It was bad enough
to have to pay him, without letting him know of the scheme.
As for Kirby, if he was told, he would be sure to interfere
with the carrying out of the project when the crisis of action
came ; besides which, he would claim a larger share of the
money than they designed he should have if they took him
into their confidence.
" There is," said he, " no call to let them know how much
we get when it is over."
Soon after it was day the four men mounted their horses and
rode from the camp. Kirby did not care to ask where they
were going or the object of the expedition. Jagger was afraid
to do so. The old man led the way, winding among the hills,
but holding a course as straight as was practicable to the west
of south. On they went. Staples never speaking and Keeps
cutting Jagger short when the latter attempted to open a con-
240 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
versation with him. It was past the hour of noon and their
steeds were becoming jaded, when they struck the trail Sassa-
fras and Tom Scarlet had made in the morning. Keeps gave
it but a glance before spurring hastily to the side of Staples.
" Trouble is ahead," said he in a whisper, wherein surprise
and ferocity were blended. " Three horses have passed here
instead of two. That devilish Indian has played you false.
He went off before day ; he has joined them, and Sassafras
knows that we are upon his trail. It'll come to a fight, and
w^e are but three to three, for I count Jagger less than nobody.
Besides, they'll have the first fire, for Sassafras will ambush
us. What's to be done?"
" It can't be !" said Staples. " It ain't possible ! But if the
Indian has done this, then there's no more honesty, no more
faith between man and man, in this world, and the sooner it
goes to blazes the better. What I have done for that Indian
nobody knows but me, and it's past telling, for my feelings is
such that I can't tell it. I paid him well for this service.
That is, I promised in case of success to "
"That's it," said Keeps, savagely. "You're so infernal
stingy. Why didn't you give him a matter of twenty or
thirty dollars in hand, and whiskey enough to get drunk upon
last night, and to keep drunk upon to-day ? Wait here till I
come back."
With this Keeps dismounted, threw his bridle-rein to Staples
and entered the bushes. He carefully examined the trail for
some minutes, passing along by the side of it for several rods.
AVhen he returned to Staples his face had brightened up, and
he re-inspired the old man's confidence in the world, and the
stability of things in general, by informing him that one of
the tracks had been made by a led horse.
They now pricked ahead, following the trail, and keeping a
good lookout, expecting to come upon some signs that Sassa-
fras and his companion had dismounted and hobbled their
horses, to begin the hunt. But hours passed, and the trail
still led them direct, as in that country might be, for the Neo-
sho river. They came to a place where Keeps and the captain
could see that Sassafras and his companion had dismounted
and halted to bait their horses and refresh themselves, but be-
yond that the trail again led due south. Staples was puzzled.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 9^1
It was a good hunting country, with plenty of grass and fine
water. Deer had been seen from time to time, and with diffi-
culty Keeps had prevented Kirby from firing at a fine buck
which presented the mark behind the shoulder at less than
fifty yards. The henchman, after some thought, reached a
conclusion, and spurred forward to tell the old man what he
believed.
" Captain," said he, " we are on a stern chase. Sassafras
means to camp to-night over the water. He is bound right
for the Neosho, and will not pull bridle until his horses go
down the face of the bluff into the river to swim across That's
how it is."
" It looks like it. O, he's a crooked-minded villain, and
always the cause of no end of trouble to whoever has any trans-
actions with him ! Any other man would have camped on this
side, and matters would have been, in a measure, easy. What
do you think we ought to do now, Keeps, to get even with
him ?"
" There is but one thing to do," replied Keeps. " We must
cross ourselves before night sets in. We can't swim it in the
dark hours. The bluffs are bold and high. The river is nar-
row, swift and deep, and may be in fresh, for it has looked as
though there had been rain about its head-waters. The man
and horse who once get below the landing-place on the other
side will be in the rapids, and never reach the east bank alive.
We must ride as fast as we can, to get to the stream by sun-
down. Once over, I'll undertake to find the camp-fire of Sas-
safras, which will be pretty near the crossing !"
" Enough !" said the old man. *' Let us go ahead !"
" One thing more," returned Keeps. " If Jagger swims his
horse over, and lands, it will be more by luck than judgment,
the river being high."
" A terrible peril !" replied Staples ; " for when he finds he's
lost, the fool, instead of taking it as a man ought to do, will
screech before the water stops his mouth, and Sassafras may
hear his cry. This comes of acting with a chicken-hearted
follow. I tell you, Keeps, when this thing is over, I'll have
no concern with anybody but men like you."
" As to his screeching, it is nothing," said Keeps. " He
mav screech as loud as a panther, and nobody will hear him
16
242 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
over the roar of the lower rapids, so as to know where the cry
comes from, or what it is. Besides, he'll be too frightened to
screech, when he finds that he's a-going down the river towards
the roar of the broken water below. His heart will be in his
mouth, and all he'll do will be to hang on like grim death
'round his horse's neck."
" So it will — so it will, Keeps ! Let us go ahead," said the
old man, cheerfully.
" I thought you said it was necessary that he should reach
Orleans," said Keeps.
" So it is in one way," replied Staples. " The money in the
bank will not be paid over without him, or without his order."
" Which you can get, knowing men skilful in write of hand,"
replied Keeps.
" I don't know about that. Still, if anything should happen
to him in a providential sort of way, we shall have the money
from Sassafras all to ourselves. It might be best for us, and
would be different from what you proposed."
" I proposed nothing," said Keeps, " except that, as he is
useless in the recovery of the money, it would be throwing it
away to give him any. However, let him take his chance.
It will be a poor one if we linger longer, and have to take the
stream between daylight and dark. Go ahead ! I could wish
he was mounted on a better horse ; but in that case a good
one might be lost ! Go ahead !"
While this hurried conversation was proceeding, the subject
of it, ignorant of the probable impending fate which had been
so coolly and heartlessly discussed, had endeavored to ascer-
tain from Kirby the object of the expedition. He was hun-
gry, weary and miserable. The burly border man, revolving
his tobacco in his cheek, did not reply. In fact, Kirby was
mentally proposing the same question to himself!, and being
unable to find any answer, made up his mind to require Keeps
to speak out v;hen they should again go on. But he had no
opportunity to do this, as the henchman led the way when they
started, and rode rapidly, in spite of obstacles, while Kirby
himself had to bring up the rear in Indian file. But fast as
they now travelled, the sun set while they were yet a mile
from the river. The ground now rose in a slope, thickly tim-
bered, to the top of the bluff above the fast-ffowing stream.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 243
Keeps and Staples were now convinced that Sassafras had
crossed, and was in the bottom laud on the other side of the
bluifs which formed the left bank. There he would make his
camp for the night — the night they meant to be his last. The
crossing of the river before darkness set in was their only aim.
Considering that to be equivalent to success, Keeps cried,
« Come on ! There is no time to lose ! Come on ! The d — 1
take the hindmost; for the- crossing is bad enough by day I
Spur on, man !" he added to dagger ; " keep at my horse's
girths ! Mind how you go down the face of the bluff, which
is steep ; and when in the water don't, for your life, let your
horse get his head down stream !" As he rode on he muttered
complacently, " I've done my duty by you, whatever happens,
and more than many would have done under the circum-
stances ; for if by following my advice you save your bacon
and get safe over, I shall lose about a hundred and fifty
sovereigns by the operation."
Through brush and tangled vines, over the trunks and arms
of fallen trees, in the deep vegetable mold of the primeval
forest, they forced their reeking horses, and at length reached
the top of the bluff, high over the swollen river. Then broke
upon the sight of Keeps and Staples that which made them
feel their scheme of midnight murder to be abortive. In the
gray twilight which hung over the waters, they saw the men
they had pursued and were themselves seen. Upon a shelf of
gravel, three parts of the way up the opposite bluff, stood Tom
Scarlet, holding the White Horse by the rein. Further up,
on the crown of it, was Sassafras, between the other two
horses, and with his face to the river. As Staples and his
men appeared in sight, the young Englishman hallooed and
stretched out his arm, while the more wary and practised
border man wheeled one of the horses quickly, so as to cover
his own person. But for that, the rifle of Staples would have
had another mark. As it was, the furious old man, shooting
from the back of his horse, hit Tom Scarlet in the head and
tumbled him into the river. The White Horse bounded up
the bluff. At the shot. Staples, Keeps and Kirby threw them-
selves from their saddles and dodged behind the nearest trees.
Jagger, agape with fear and astonishment, remained gazing on
the opposite bank for a moment. In that moment there was
244 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
a flash, and before the report reached the nearest of the echo-
ing hills, he fell from his horse dead. Sassafras had shot him
through the brain.
CHAPTER XXVI.
"Like one that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And, having once turned round, walks on
And turns no more his head,
Because he knows a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.''
DARKNESS had nearly fallen, a welcome cloak to the
living, and a pall over the ghastly dead, in that solitary
place, before there was any movement made on either side of
the river. No sound had been heard from the left bank after
the tramp of the White Horse and the other two on that side,
as they galloped away when Sassafras fired. AYhether the
latter had gone after them, or remained upon the bluff, was
uncertain to the three men in cover on the right bank. The
silence was profound, for the beasts of chase and prey had fled
at the sharp cracks of the two rifles. Keeps and Kirby had
taken cover near each other, while the hiding-place of Staples
■was at a little distance. The former, perceiving, as though by
intuition, that the state of parties, as statesmen and politicians
have it, was likely to be much changed by the late events,
determined to be beforehand with the old man, and strike up
a close alliance with the stalwart, but slow-witted Kirby.
With a view to that end he wired himself silently to the side
of the latter, and whispered to him such information concerning
the expedition as he deemed most likely to forward his own
purpose and prejudice him against Staples. At length the
latter believed that it was safe to move. Coming from his
cover, and calling to Keeps in a low voice, he stood near the
corpse of the fallen man, and waited for his henchman to rise.
The latter had now communicated to Kirby what he called
the facts of the matter, true enough in the main, but so glossed
as to conceal the truth, that he had himself been just as eager
to make a blind tool of his companion as Staples was. They
joined the old man, and all three bent over the dead body.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 245
"which lay with the pale face — a small red hole in the centre
of the forehead — turned up towards the sky.
" He's as dead as mutton," said Keeps, with no more emo-
tion than he would have displayed over the carcass of a sheep.
" It was a good shot and true — killed clean, which is a sort
of consolation, for I hate to see 'em writhing about in agony,
and trying to speak after they are mortally hit. If I ain't
killed clean and dead when my time comes, I shall be obliged
to anybody as will put his knife through my heart. This,
under the circumstances, was a splendid shot. I always
knowed Sassafras was a master of his weapon. If there was
anybody here who had curiosity on the p'int, and a small-
toothed saw, he might find the bullet flattened against the
back of the skull inside. As for the other man, if anybody
looked for him, which nobody is likely to do, he might be
found fifteen or tw^enty mile below, down among the catfish.
And I'll bet anybody two to one he wasn't killed as neat and
nice by the shot as this one here. When Sassafras kills with
a rifle he does it artistic, and I have heard si.y that he is very
quick and judgmatical with his knife, too."
" Hold your infernal tongue," said Staples, gruffly. " To
hear you gabbling on about it, anybody might think you was
preaching a funeral sermon. It was a cursed chance! just
such as nobody but Sassafras would have brought about. If
I had shot the villain himself there would be some satisfac-
tion."
"Ay! but Sassafras is not going to be shot so easy," said
Keeps. " He wheeled a horse before him quicker than wink ;
and must have shot under the throttle when he tumbled Jag-
ger out of the saddle. As you couldn't kill him, you had no
right to shoot at all. We might have kept on their trail, and
got a chance to do something or another that would have
paid. Sassafras might finally have been settled, and then we
could have grabbed the money."
This seemed to remind the old man that something of that
sort might be done upon a small scale then, and had better be
set about as soon as possible. Muttering to himself, he went
down upon his knees as though about to pray. But Keeps
knew better than this, and watched him with tiger-like inter-
est. Undoing the coat and shirt of the dead man, Staples
246 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
quickly removed that which was round the body. He proba-
bly thought that in the dim light the belt would be unobserved,
but in this he was mistaken. Weighing it for an instant in his
hand, as if to estimate the quantity of the contents, he proceeded
to secure it round his own stout loins. The performance did
not meet the approbation of Keeps. Nudging Kirby to second
him, he said :
" The belt which you have grabbed, according to what I
was told by the owner, contains a certain amount of gold.
That gold must be turned out and counted, so that it may be
accounted for. It must be held in charge of all three, not of
one ; and we must each have a third to take care of — eh,
Kirby?"
" It is in charge now, and will remain there," replied Sta-
ples, rising rather hurriedly. "I'll take care of it. You
needn't trouble yourselves at all. What you have got to do
is to look out for this desperate and dangerous villain. Sassa-
fras !"
*' I think I had better look out a little for the carrying out
of the bargain we made at the camp," said Keeps.
"O, the bargain!" replied Staples. "Of course we must
stick to the bargain when we get the m^oney Sassafras holds.
It may not be very soon, lads, for the villain has three horses,
a rifle, plenty of powder and ball, and knows the country we
are in like a book. This trifle of money I have taken into
possession don't come into the bargain at all."
" Don't it !" replied Keeps with an ominous voice. " Then
it must be counted over, and taken charge of for the man's
friends."
" The man's nearest and dearest friend has got it," said Sta-
ples. " He owed me a sight of money, and what I do is lawful
and right. I'm his administrator, executor de bonis non, if
you know what that means !"
" I can't say that I do," said Kirby.
" Nor I," said Keeps, " unless it means the good of nobody
but himself I want to know more about this."
" Bring up the horses, Kirby," said Staples.
"Don't be in a hurry, captain," said Keeps. "When the
horses are brought up we may ride diflerent roads ; for if you
are going to collar everything, and never say ' turkey' once
to us, here we part !"
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 247
" If you want this gold, or any part of it, you can't have
it," replied Staples, with firmness and decision.
" We don't want the gold,", said the veracious Keeps.
"Being as it belongs to a dead man, and blood on every piece
of it, we wouldn't touch it, to keep it, on any account. It is
not the gold, my venerable friend, as I heard the preacher
say when he chiseled you at seven-up, with aces hid in his
boots, but the principle of the thing ! We want fair dealing
between man and man, and if we can't have that, here we
part ! We split upon the p'int of honor ! D — n the gold !
Eh, Kirby?"
" Certainly, I say so !" replied Kirby.
" Now, was the like ever heard ?" said Staples, as if appeal-
ing to an audience. " Honor ! I'm the soul of honor ! as
everybody knows with whom I ever had dealings. I don't
think even Sassafras could deny that. If ever I seem to
depart from the strictest principles of honor in my dealings,
it is when I'm bothered and pestered by rogues and fools."
" Who do you call rogues and fools ?" cried Keeps, with
some heat. " Who put up a double cross against Sassafras and
this man who lies dead here, and then got ' coppered' by Sas-
safras, and was beat at every point of the game? You ride
away, and we will take our way."
" Who is to bury this man ?" said Kirby. " You ought to
do it, captain, if you keep his money."
"Let Sassafras bury him — he killed him," replied Staples.
" There's another thing," he added : " If I go alone I shall
take all of these horses ; they all belong to me."
"Perhaps you would like to take this, too," said Keeps,
advancing the muzzle of his gun until it was close to the old
man's breast. "I told you I had scruples about killing a
sleeping man, when you proposed this business to me. I now
tell you that I shall have none at all about killing you, if you
will bring on a fight."
" It will not come to a fight," said Kirby. " The captain
"will go away and leave us to hoe our own row."
" The captain might be followed," said Staples.
He felt that it might be a good deal better and safer to
have Keeps before rather than behind him.
" Besides, you can't get out of this country without my help.
248 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
I brought you in, and I only can take you out. You dare not
go near the fort."
" We dare go anywhere," replied Keeps. " As to the coun-
try, I know it about as well as you do. You might try to
make it hot for us, if you dared stay in these parts, but you
don't. Every minute you remain here is worth a drop of blood
out of your heart. The mules won't be in your wagons before
Sassafras and the Indians are after you, and they'll never leave
your trail until your scalp swings at Cinnamon's belt. Go
your way, old man ! We shall be much safer anywhere than
in your company. Sassafras and the chief are a brace of true
bloodhounds. When they come upon you, hand over hand,
see w^hether that gold will stop a ball like the one that killed
Jagger. No wonder you w^ant us to go with you."
The truth of this was so obvious, as well as dispiriting, that
the captain was unable to reply. He looked at the moon,
which had just risen over the mountains to the eastward, and
now threw a shimmering light among the leafy boughs of the
tree-tops. It was, in one sense, welcome, for it would help him
to pick the best paths through his rugged way ; but in another
it might bring danger and death upon him, even before the
morning. There was no know ing what so bold and active a man
as Sassafras might undertake in a pressing emergency. The
river was a very formidable obstacle to any immediate pursuit
by him, but, aided by the light of the moon, he might cross
it. Should he do so, the captain would be well pleased that
Keeps and Kirby would be on the bank to delay, if not to kill
him. If they had left before he crossed, their tracks might
divert his attention from the captain's own, and in this way
give him valuable time.
" It would be a blessed thing," muttered Staples, " if these
three unmitigated villains would meet, fight a Welsh main
right here, and kill one another !"
With this he mounted his horse and rode down the slope,
not without misgivings that something hot and swift might be
sent whistling after him before he was out of sight. He plunged
at once into the thick brush among the largest trees. The
dim, retreating figure of the old man was still visible to the
practised, cat-like eyes of the men behind, when Keeps dropped
on his right knee, and levelled his rifle. His left elbow was
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 249
ou his left knee, the hand supporting and steadying the heavy
barrel like a rest. His finger was upon the trigger.^
" He is yet in sight," said Keeps, in a hissing whisper. " I
have him in line by two trees, and can break his backbone at
a single shot."
" Hold on I" said Kirby, catching him by the shoulder.
The rifle was fired, but the bullet flew wide of the mark
Keeps would no doubt have hit, had he fired without inter-
ference from Kirby, and the old man spurred rapidly on with-
out looking round, but turning short to the right. Keeps
loaded his rifle, and seating himself on the ground, produced
dried buffalo meat from his scrip, and desired Kirby to sit
down and eat.
"You should not have grabbed hold of me," said Keeps.
" I don't think I should have fired, for, barring the money in
that belt, the old rascal is worth more to us alive than dead.
It is him that Sassafras will be after in the first place. He
has heard that shot, though, and is just now considering what
it can mean. But no matter ! When he crosses the river he
will do one of two things — go northwest with all speed to the
fort and bring up his Indians, or strike the trail Staples is now
making, and follow it. In either case the old man is a gone
captain, and we shall be safe for the present. You'll owe me
another life, Kirby. This is three times I have saved your
bacon."
" I don't see that it h saved yet," said the giant.
" Yes, it is ! We shall jog along down the river while the
hunt goes on up it. If we determine to go into the fort we
shall have a clear road from below ; or we can keep to the
woods until from some Indian or hunter belonging to the post
we hear when, where, and how Sassafras comes up with Staples
and kills him. He's sure to do so within four or five days."
" And what then, when we have heard it?"
" What then ! why then we will send him word that we have
kind of been on his side all along ; that after Staples murdered
his friend in that cowardly manner, and committed a sort of
highway robbery upon the man as Sassafras killed himself, we
could stand it no longer, and fired upon him."
" We can tell him that in the morning, when he crosses,"
said Kirby. " That will seem the most straightforw^ard."
250 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
" It might, but I don't think it will be best to be about here
"when the morning breaks. Before we could get speech of Sas-
safras, to make this little explanation, his rifle would go off
and tumble one of us over, I would not give much in that
case for the chance of the other. I don't mean to be within a
mile of Sassafras, from this out, until he sends me word to come.
Let us mount and ride away."
" We must bury this man somehow before we go," said
Kirby.
"Not a bit of it. It was well enough to talk of it, but it
would be useless to do it. We might put him in a crevice of
the rocks and cover him with stones if we had time and day-
light, but what W'Ould be the good ? The wolves and ravens
would have him out piece by piece. Take all the tobacco and
powder he has on him, and let him lie. I'll have his pistols,
and hide his gun. What use a gun ever was to such a man
I could never make out, for he couldn't have hit a standing
drove of cattle if there w^as another man within half a mile
who might be likely to shoot at him."
With this Keeps mounted his horse and rode slowly away,
followed by Kirby, the latter leading the horse which had
been ridden by the unfortunate Jagger.
While these events were passing on the right bank of the
Neosho, Sassafras had not been inactive, though cautious and
silent, on the left bank. As soon as he had fired the shot
which slew Jagger, he threw himself down and reloaded, let-
ting the horses run. He then crawled to the top of the bluff
again, and surveyed the other bank through the fast-gathering
gloom of the coming night. All was still, and he could dis-
cover nothing. He sighed as he glanced at the spot where
Tom Scarlet had last stood, and a low sound escaped from his
lips as the roar of the rapids below, borne upon the wind of
the evening, murmured in his ears. After a few minutes spent
in bitter reflection, plans for a swift and terrible revenge occu-
pied his mind. Rising cautiously and passing down the slope
with swift but noiseless strides, he soon came to the horses,
quietly grazing. His low whistle brought them to his side.
The Young Chief and the spare horse were quickly stripped
of their saddles and bridles, and turned loose. The White
Horse was hobbled, his bridle removed and a blanket strapped
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 251
round him over the saddle. Sassafras then placed the spare
saddles among the boughs of a sapling, and giving the White
Horse a good feed of oats from the saddle-bags, sat down and
ate his own supper ^Yhile the steed consumed his feed. He
then ascended the slope, and lay down upon the bluff. Sas-
safras had not been long there when his quick ear caught the
sharp voice of Keeps, raised in the altercation with Staples.
The silvery moon rose over the ridge of the dark mountains,
and Sassafras slid down to the level on which Tom Scarlet had
stood when he was shot. The report of the rifle followed.
" They have quarrelled, and there goes one," said the border
man to himself. " That was Keeps's rifle. If he has killed
old Staples he has cheated me, before his own accursed time
has come!" He listened intently, but there was no further
sound that he could catch. " Nobody hit ! there was no
return ; no screech or imprecation ; no movement to signify
of the other two. This may be a plan to draw me over, but
I shall wait." He rolled his blanket round him, and, half-
seated, half-reclining, fell asleep.
Before the dawning of the day Sassafras awoke. His first
thought was of the fate of his lost friend, whose body had gone
down the river into the furious rapids of the rocky pass below.
" Grief," said he, " is unavailing, but there remains revenge !
I could almost wish that I had been the man to fail, only in
that case I should not have been left to bring these two-legged
wolves to their assured and bloody end." Hs strode silently
to the top of the bluff and waited until it was light, listening
for a movement or sign on the opposite bank. For another hour
Sassafras lay upon his breast, his eyes scanning the bluff on
the other side, and his ears alert to catch any sound from that
quarter. The sun rose red in the eastern board, above the
tops of the blue mountains. The man turned to look at it, and
said, "Ked dawning! there will be a storm. Ah !" he ex-
claimed, after a pause, *' here comes a scout, who will tell me
what there is on that bank besides the dead man."
Far in the eastern sky Sassafras had seen what seemed but
a mere speck, but which was, in fact, a large bird of the vul-
ture tribe, in full flight for the river, coming with eager wings
towards the body which lay with face upturned upon the bluff.
No very long time elapsed before the bird swept over Sassafras,
252 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
circled round once or twice above the tree-tops on the other
side, and settled slowly down, with wings half spread, upon
the dead man's breast.
" They have gone ! the way is clear for me," said Sassafras.
He caught the White Horse and prepared him quickly for a
long and rapid journey. The river was soon crossed. As
Sassafras led his horse up the steep face of the bluff, the huge
bird with horny beak and long, sharp talons was loath to leave
its prey, and screamed defiance. It rose lazily, however, to
the lower limb of a tree, while Sassafras passed hastily down
the slope without looking on the horrid banquet to which it
again descended. The single track made by Staples was read-
ily found. The mark of the bullet jointly fired by Keeps and
Kirby, as it were, was noted on the bark of a sapling. The
wary borderer made a wide circuit from the beginning of the
trail towards the north, round into the woods, and back to the
starting-place. He saw that Staples had turned to the right
after having been shot at, but discovered no sign that the other
men had pursued him. He found, however, the tracks of three
horses going down the river, just beneath the high bluff — that
is to say, on the slope between it and the forest. One of these
he saw, from the way it had planted its feet, was in leading
reins, and kept close to the hip of the ridden horse.
" They have quarrelled and parted," said Sassafras. " The
old man has hurried away for his camp, which must be to the
north. The others have gone dowm the river. I must get the
chief and two or three of his braves to hunt down Keeps and
Kirby. Staples shall be my point. No man but me shall
touch a hair of his head. Of the three not one shall escape !"
CHAPTER XXVII.
*' Let the great gods
That keep this dreadful pudder o'er our heads,
Find out their enemies uow !"
ONE of the heavy storms which sometimes sweep over the
great plains from the lofty mountain tops of the north-
west had come booming down upon the neighborhood of the
trading fort. It blew great guns ! The sky was wild and
THE WHITE HORSE OF W COTTON. 253
ragged, as though tora by a convulsion, and at intervals rain
and hail ^ve^e pelted down in thick sheets, whose violence
could scarcely be withstood by those who were exposed to it.
The gale had set in before the going down of the sun. It had
freshened hour after hour, and now, as midnight approached,
it raged with increase and excess of fury. Betimes Antoiue
and Jules had sheltered the negroes and horses of their party
in the shanties near the fort, and taken refuge in the post
itself. Cinnamon and his Cheyennes, after providing for their
hardy horses as best they might, had betaken themselves to
the same building. A large log lire blazed upon the hearth
of the largest room, and some twenty-five men sat around it,
some on chairs and benches, some on the floor. The shelter
of the place, the heat of the large fire, and the flavor of good
tobacco, and a little whiskey, were grateful to all. The enjoy-
ment of these comforts was heightened by the howling of the
wind and beating of the hail and rain outside. At times the
men conversed in low tones, as though unwilling to be heard
by the spirits of the air who seemed to carry on howling war
without. Once there was a laugh among some of them, but it
was shortly hushed, as it seemed to be taken up and repeated
in mocking tones and with ten thousand times more power, by
the wild wind which swept over the roof and along the walls
of the stout building.
" A real nor'wester, this. The first of the fall. It gives
warning that the pleasant days are over, except the short In-
dian summer that lights winter in," said Jules.
" 'Tis a gale that sw^eeps over a wide extent of country — all
the great plains," said Antoine. " What say you, Cinnamon ?
Does this begin west of the Solomon's Fork ?"
" The storm," replied the chief, " was born about the Hell
Gate Pass of the Rocky Mountains, in the country of the
Blackfeet, the Crows and the Sioux. It sweeps around the
tall peaks which keep sentinel over the parks, and gathers
force as it crosses the plains, until it strikes the sides of the
Ozarks. My people have gone to the mountain hollows, but
the wind and hail smite my young men, who were here upon
the prairies. Let it blow. The Indian is not a child that
cannot endure the weather."
" That is true," said Jules ; " but they'll have a rough time
254 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
of it, to my miud ; and so ^vill Sassafras and his companion on
the other side of the Neosho."
" Sassafras is a man of the plains and woods," replied the
chief. " He knows how to provide against the storm and to
withstand it. He is in the timber laud. The axe hung at his
saddle-bow. The trees will fall, and he will make a wigwam
amoug the branches. The Golden Bough may suffer, but he
is strong."
" For all that, I wish they were here with us, before the
fire," said Miriam Cotswold, who, still attired and painted as
a young Kiowa, sat between Cinnamon and Autoine, and a
little further back than either of them. She had spoken so
as not to be heard by most of the company, and soon added :
"It is a fearful night. There are howls and shrieks and
moans in the air, as if the fiends had broken loose and flown
up to rage between the earth and sky. I with our friends
were here !"
A silence followed, broken only from time to time by a
word or two among the men and the flare of the fire as the
logs blazed on the hearth.
" Hark !" said Miriam, placing her hands on the shoulders
of Cinnamon and Antoine. "Did you hear anything? I
thought there was a voice in the uproar of the elements."
" I hear the wolves howl in the gulches to windward, no-
thing more," replied the Frenchman.
" Antoine, the Singing Bird is right !" said the chief " There
again is the voice of a man. Sassafras is at hand. Unbar the
door, and let my friend tell us what brings him back."
Campau and Antoine sprang to the door, while the other
men rose to their feet. As soon as the fastenings were undone
the door was thrown back by a strong gust, and the rain and
hail came beating in. Another moment and Sassafras entered,
leading the White Horse. Their appearance denoted the
hardship of the journey they had made. The man's counte-
nance was dark, haggard, and streaked with blood from cuts
upon his cheeks and forehead, made by the boughs of trees
and tall underbrush through which he had ridden at a great
rate. His garments were torn almost to tatters, and the water
streamed from them. The horse was covered with mud, bleed-
ing from cuts and scratches, and evidently very tired. His
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOX. 255
nostrils flared out like the mouths of trumpets, and he blew hard
at each beat of his powerful heart and each contraction of his
muscular chest. Still his eye was bright, and he moved his
lips and ears as Sassafras removed his saddle and bridle and
sponged his mouth and eyes. Until he had done this the man
said not a word. He then exclaimed :
" Jules and Antoine, let this horse be looked to, and well
carad for. He is a good one — the best I ever rode for a whole
day and half a night of storm."
His eye fell upon ^Miriam Cotswold, and making a sign for
the Cheyenne chief and Campau to follow, he led her into an
inner room. Here, too, a bright fire blazed upon the hearth,
and everything was made snug, as if to defy the storm, and
enable people to enjoy gently the warmth and shelter of a
place impregnable to the elements. It was Campau's own
apartment. Cards had been played earlier in the night, for
the pack lay scattered over the rough table, and a stone jug
of whiskey was at the head of the bunk bed. Sassafras seized
the liquor, and pouring out about half a pint, drank it neat at
a draught.
" A little of that will do the White Horse good as well as
me," said he. " Campau, let Antoine have about a pint, and
give it to the horse in as much water."
" The horse is here and will do well. You are here, some-
what weather-beaten, it is true, but that is well. Now, where
is Tom Scarlet ?" said Miriam Cotswold.
Sassafras shrunk within himself for a moment, and there
was a contraction of his face, as if a pang had struck his
heart. His countenance then became firm, his mouth was set,
and his dark eyes flashed in the light of the fire. He answered
with a stern but troubled voice : " I left him in the Neosho
river. He is dead !"
" O, Sassafras ! the fine young fellow from the dear old land !
You do not, you cannot mean it ?"
" I would to God it was not so," replied the border man ;
" but why try to conceal the truth, even for a few brief hours ?
He is dead, and I have come to tell it. Staples killed him at
sundown of the day after we left here."
" Has my friend got the scalp of the Wolverine ?" said the
Indian, seizing the handle of his knife.
256 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
" Not yet, but he will have it before the moon is three nights
older," replied Sassafras. " This is how it happened : We had
just swum our horses across the river, which was well up,
nearly in flood. I was on the bluff, with two of the bridles
in my hands. Tom was on a shelf half-way down, with the
AYhite Horse. All at once four men rode up to the top of the
bluff' on the other side. I just saw they were Staples, Keeps,
Kirby and Jagger. Tom uttered a cry, Staples fired, and
down our friend fell into the river. At the shot Staples and
the Western men took cover. I fired and killed Jagger."
" The Snake-Eyes was no more than a squaw," said the chief.
" He cannot pay for the life of the fjiend of Sassafras and the
Cheyennes. His scalp is too little. It is no good ! I will go
upon the war-path, while Sassafras comforts the Singing Bird,
and revenge the Golden Bough."
" You will. Cinnamon, and so will I," said Sassafras. *' The
Singing Bird knows that our friend must be avenged. That
is all the good we can do for the satisfaction of those to whom
he was dear, and it shall be done well. Miriam, for every
tear the Rose of Hawk'll will shed for poor Tom, a hundred
drops of blood shall follow the bullets and blades of Cinnamon
and myself. Chief, we will take horse in the morning, with
four or five of your young men, and of the three who went
alive from the crossing when it was dark, not one shall escaj^e.
Presently, I will tell you which w^ay they took, and where
they may be found."
The face of the chief worked with exultation he made no
effort to suppress, and his eyes glowed like the live coals on the
hearth. Whatever regret he felt at the untimely fate of Tom
Scarlet was as nothing to the ferocious and exceeding joy with
which he he heard the ban of extermination pronounced by
Sassafras against Staples and his accomplices. Indeed, Cinna-
mon was ready enough to make the doom much more sweeping
than Sassafras meant it to be.
" True, my friend," said the savage warrior, with unbridled
ferocity. " My knife and the tomahawks of the Cheyennes
have been dull — they shall now be sharp. Let Sassafras eat
and rest. My young men know where the Wolverine hid his
wagons in the hills. Lougwind shall start at break of day,
and we will follow. The Golden Bough was as one of the
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 257
Cheyennes, and my friend. We will avenge him— slay the
slayer, and all that belong to his party. AYe can come up
with Longwind to-morrow night. The camp of the Wolverine
we will then surprise, and put every man in it to the edge of
the knife and axe. The blacks being disposed of, we will fol-
low the trail of the three whites, take their scalps and those
of any other men who cross the war-path. Let Longwind and
Three Scalps come into this council."
" Hold !" said Miriam Cotswold. " AVhat have the negroes
done ? Why are they to suffer, poor fellows ?"
"Done?" said the chief; <' they live in the tents of the
Wolverine ; they saddle his horses, cook his food, and clean
his guns. They must die ! as the cubs of the wolf, which never
did damage, die. Shall Sassafras and the Cheyennes fail to
take full revenge? Shall the fair maiden over the sea be
cheated of her dues ? No ! when the scalps of the three whites
are at the pole of my tent those of the blacks shall hang in the
smoke of the pale-face fire at her father's house. I would there
were more of them, that she might say * It is good ]' "
Miriam would have remonstrated further, but Sassafras told
her quietly that it was useless to argue with an Indian on such
a point as this. He either could not, or would not, make the
distinctions which were obvious to all but savages in arms.
Food was then partaken of by Sassafras, and he related at
greater length all his proceedings after the firing of the fatal
shot. The Indian rose and left the place of the conversation
to rejoin his braves in the other room, despatch Longwind at
once, and prepare four or five noted for courage, wariness, and
skill for the expedition. Before he lay down in front of the
fire to sleep. Sassafras gave his word to Miriam Cotswold that
none of the negroes should be hurt, unless they took arms and
joined in a fight.
The storm roared on through the latter part of ihe night,
but in the morning the shriirwhistling of the wind indicated
that the heart of the gale, as the sailors say, was broken. ^ At
break of day there was a lull ; the rain ceased. A few pieces
of pale blue appeared through breaks in the thin clouds and
flying scud. The wind, however, still blew freshly, shaking
showers of large drops from the overhanging boughs of the
trees. A group of men and horses at a very early hour stood
IT
258 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
at the back of the shanties near the fort. Four armed Indians
•were already mounted. Two others held Indian horses, while
Campau, Pierre Langlois, Miriam Cotswold, Antoine, Jules
and Black Dick stood by the side of the gray mare, Virginia.
She was caparisoned for service. The eyes of Miriam Cotswold
and the men were cast from time to time towards one of the
shanties in which it was understood the chief of the Cheyennes
with Sassafras and Three Scalps, one of the most daring and
crafty warriors of the band, were holding a sort of council. At
length the buffiilo robe which hung before the entrance was
pushed aside and the men came forth. The chief led the van
with a stately carriage, and an unsparing glitter in his hard,
dark eye. He was in his war-paint, vermilion and black,
nearly bare to the waist, and a necklace composed of the huge
claws of the grizzly bear hung down upon his breast. The
lineaments of his countenance were stern, and his stature
seemed to be increased by the near prospect of battle and of
blood as he strode, rifle in hand, to his horse. Three Scalps,
the warrior who followed him, was neither as tall nor as
powerful as Cinnamon, but his frame was singularly well-
balanced, and his limbs were all bone and sinew. The scars
he bore, and now showed with pride, indicated that he had
been in some desperate fights. He was painted much as Cin-
namon was, and though his face was stern and composed, there
was no mistaking the exulting eagerness for blood which glowed
in his eye. The borderman followed the Indians with an air
of perfect resolution somewhat tinged with sadness. When he
reached the group of his friends he took Miriam Cotswold by
the hand and led her aside.
" Miriam," said he, " I start upon this expedition to avenge
the murder, bloody and unprovoked, of your friend and mine.
Before I go I have some words for your ear, and, I hope, for your
heart. To some it might seem an ill-chosen time to tell you I
love, and thi;t you are the object of my love ; but the moment
to me is fitting enough. In the stormy and fitful hours, when
my heart was torn with grief, and my mind tossed with schemes
for a swift and terrible revenge, in all their wanderings they
came again to you at last. Why then, when I am about to do
the last duty by the dead, should I not declare my love for the
livini^? Can you accept my vow and return one to me?"
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 259
"Sassafras," sh6 replied, with much feeling in her voice, " this
is sudden. But I see that it is earnest, and I will be plain.
It is no time for dissimulation, nor have I a mind to it. This
hour chosen for interchange of troth, while the wing of the
Angel of Death casts its dread shadow upon us, and you are
about to go forth to take other lives, might seem ominous of
evil instead of happiness ; but I am a daughter of the dwell-
ers in the tents, and you are a hunter and armed rover of the
frontier. We may not woo as the wrens woo among the early
rose-leaves, nor coo like the ring-doves in the bosky copse.
All we can ask from each other is truth. Mine I pledge till
death, by the great God who sees our hearts, and from his
starry throne rules all the races of the world, the children of
men !"
" Thanks, Miriam ! I will be true to you, as the sun to the
west from his rising in the east, whether under clear and pleas-
ant skies, or in cloud and storm !" said Sassafras. " My mind
now springs again, and my heart leaps to meet the duty of the
hour. The Indians are ready. We go, and it is done! I
shall strike harder, quicker and surer now than ever before.
Love and revenge will inspire and guide the blows !"
" But, Sassafras," said the girl, earnestly and hastily, " as
you love me, and we honor the dead whose loss we deplore,
see to it that none but the guilty fall. The negroes of Staples's
camp are clear of the deed, and you must save them. The
chief, once mild and kind, is now all the savage ; and in the
fearful battle-paint of his tribe has no more feeling of mercy
nor reason than the tiger w^ho scents blood on the wind of the
jungle. Sassafras, I do not ask you to spare Staples or Keeps,
but when the frightful war-whoops ring in the night, see that
the guiltless negroes are unharmed."
" I have provided for it. There will be no night attack,
and I will bring them off harmless," he replied.
" Further, Sassafras, husband and lord that is to be ! until
you are certain that he deserves the doom, let not Kirby die.
He had probably no hand in the murder, no knowledge of the
plot. Antoine and Campau and Pierre Langlois say so.
Therefore, spare him !"
" It may not be !" said Sassafras, firmly. " Miriam, he was
ihere, art and part with the others ! The negroes shall be
260 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
saved. Not a hair of their heads shall be touched, unless
they take arms to fight for one who has been a hard task-
master to them. Staples will be my mark. The warrior who
was with me and Cinnamon in the hut, and another Cheyenne,
will go with me, while the chief and the other three Indians
will make for the Neosho. 'We shall find Staples in his camp
or on the move with his train, and then "
" What then ?" said she, as he paused.
" Then he dies on sight !" he exclaimed, while his color
rose and his eye dilated. " This, Miriam, is the doom and
justice of the border. He is already as one of the dead."
" The man is old. I could wish some other hand than yours
might send him to his long and last account."
*' Miriam Cotswold," said Sassafras, " if he lives to be much
older, they shall call me liar and coward. I and no other
will execute justice on him who treacherously slew my friend.
I must shoot the fatal shot or strike the blow ! To what end
should I leave this to either of the two Indians, who will be
with me ? If there were no other reason — and there is one
that is all-powerful — the safety of the negroes demands this
from me. The Cheyennes, both tried warriors, will be like blood-
hounds in the slips. If either kills Staples, and swings his
reeking scalp, with the whoop of the tribe, I shall not be able
to hold the hand of the other ; and there will be carnage
while one of Staples's men remains alive. To guard against
some such thing as this, I have persuaded Cinnamon to go
south after Keeps and Kirby, for in that quarter there is no
one else to kill. And now, Miriam, wife and part of my life
that is to be ! farewell for a while. The Indians look towards
us."
" Yet stay ! another word ! Is there no hope that poor Tom
may be wounded, but yet alive ?"
" There is none. If there had been, think you that I would
have left the river ? He fell headlong, no doubt, shot through
the brain, and so unconcious of what killed him. Besides, if.
he touched the water alive, he was swept down into the rapids
and there an end ! Had there been one chance in a thousand
for his life, I had not been here now."
" I feel it ! I know it !" she said. " But, oh ! if the remains
could be recovered and decently interred, it would be a con-
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 261
solation to us in after times and to his friends at home. The
Indians, hot for blood, caring nothing for what lies cold in the
river, will make no search until their ire is glutted. Shall
nothing be done ?"
"There is reason in what you say, though the hope of
finding his body is vain, I fear. Still, the last slight chance
shall not be thrown away. Antoine shall go with Cinnamon
and his men to the Neosho, and make the searching of the
rocks and shallows his special object. Tell him to saddle the
best horse aud ride after us. He may easily overtake us ere I
and Cinnamon part. Miriam, good-by !"
With this Sassafras folded her in his arms, and held her for
a moment to his brawny breast. In another instant he sprang
to the saddle of the stout gray mare, and the party rode away.
"Haste, haste, Antoine!" said the gypsy. "Saddle your
horse aud overtake them. You are to go, too. Nay, Antoine,
Jules ! saddle two horses. I will go myself with Antoine."
CHAPTER XXVIII.
"Heigh, bo! sing heigh, ho ! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.
Then heigh, ho ! the holly \"
IT was the day before Christmas, and preparations for the
proper celebration of the great Christmas festival were
beins: made in all the hamlets, mansions, farm-houses and cot-
tages about Wootton, Ridingcumstoke and the Vale of Ayles-
bury. " Store's no sore," was the motto of the neighborhood,
as well as of Justice Greedy, and much provision of substance
and luxury was being laid in. At a shop in the nearest mar-
ket town there was a small assemblage, at once grave, critical
and jovial, exarainiug the stock of the tradesman who owned
and kept it. Now, it was a butcher's shop — a place certain to
be esteemed low, if not vulgar, by those who affect artificial
perfumes and driuk absinthe. The butcher, however, is a man
whose calling is held in some esteem by the nations who keep
Christmas in the Scandinavian and Anglo-Saxon manner.
Besides, neither Sir Jerry Snaffle, John Bullfinch, nor the
other worthies who looked on while the butcher bustled about,
262 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
whistling, " O, the Roast Beef of Old England !" cared for
any perfumes but such as came from bunches of violets, rose-
buds, lavender, bean blossoms and the like. As for absinthe,
none of them had ever heard of it, and all of them would
have repudiated it as a beverage if they had tasted it.
The butcher's shop was in truth a very clean, fresh, whole-
some place, and the joints of beef and mutton, artistically cut
by the butcher, and trimmed with holly and ivy by his wife,
looked as handsome, and more eatable, than so many clever
pictures. The butcher's round, red face shone like the berries
on the holly boughs as he slapped the joints with his long knife,
and related the history of each ox and wether which had con-
tributed to his Christmas show. Mr. Cleaver spoke of the
animals as he might have done of old friends, and no wonder,
for while the Christmas beasts he intended to purchase were
in the course of feeding on the farms of their owners, it was
his custom to visit them about once a fortnight, to handle them
and report progress to his wife, his journeymen, and his prin-
cipal customers. A few of these last had been invited to look
in that morning, chief among whom were Sir Jerry, John
Bullfinch, and another good man and true, who had not yet
arrived. The butcher was bustling and important, often look-
ing down the street, as if rather impatient for the coming of
the other man. The baronet ventured a remark upon the beef
and the Cotswold mutton, to which Mr. Cleaver replied by say-
ing:
" They was all good, Sir Jerry, this year — all excellent good.
They all died well, full of fat, and they have cut up well. My
Christmas beasts always do. But there's one extro'nary animal.
He died better and has cut up better than any fat beast I ever
had before. I mean the red ox fed by Mr. Southdown, who
ought to have been here before now. Here he comes, however.
He's a pictur'."
It was never exactly settled whether ihis last sentence re-
ferred to the ox or the yeoman who fed him, for the greeting
extended to the man was so hearty and noisy, that no oppor-
tunity for explanation offered, and the ox was momentarily
forgotten by all but his best friend and ardent admirer, the
butcher.
Mr. Southdown was a man of great stature and bulk, nearly
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO K 263
as big himself as a moderate-sized ox of the Highland blood.
He strode along with ponderous tread, vast but not fat, in a
blue coat, drab breeches, leather leggings, and a low-crowned
hat. Instead of a riding-whip he carried a stick of tough
ground-ash. Mr. Southdown was a man of mark in those
parts. A man of many acres, arable and pasture. A man
of money. Crisp bank-notes carried in a bulky pocket-book
and bright sovereigns in a yellow canvas bag. A man of
strong opinions and few words. He was as great a stickler for
the landed interest, and Church and King, as Sir Jerry Snaffle
and John Bullfinch themselves, but it w^as in his own way, not
in theirs. Sir Jerry Snaffle was sometimes eloquent in his de-
clamations on these topics, from sheer force and plain sense.
John Bullfinch was apt to be disputatious. Mr. Southdown
was neither eloquent nor disputatious. It was not, as he said,
worth his while. His mind was made up ! He cared nothing
for radicals or revolutionists ! " Argeyment" was of no use
in such matters — nothing but a waste of words ! Could the
radicals argey the elm trees out of his pastures ? or the oaks
out of his spinneys ? That was what he wanted to know !
Being of a solid temper, and with a voice like the boatswain
of a line-of-battle ship, Mr. Southdown usually succeeded in
putting down the radical bagmen and tradesmen he encoun-
tered. The only people who ventured to argue with him were
his youngest daughter, Margery, and her particular friend
Young Jack.
" Servant all, gentlemen," said he. " This looks like Christ-
mas. I left my missus and daaters making plum-puddings
and mince-pies, as is but reason. Well, Cleaver, what's said
to this here beef? If anybody says there's better beef in
Lunnon, or in Windsor Castle, or anywhere else, he's wrong.
I shan't argey the question with him, but he's wrong !"
" Cleaver never had a better show," said Sir Jerry. "And
he says your red ox is the best that ever was seen here, or
hereabouts. He ought to know !"
" If he says that, he don't know, Sir Jerry," replied South-
down. " In his father's time there was a bullock killed by
him, called the Great Ox of Hawk'ell, which was fed by John
Bullfinch, and it was the biggest ever seen in England, except
the Durham Ox. We must knock under to the Durham Ox,
264 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
though I have ray doubts whether the northcountrymen didn't
give short weight when they made up the report."
" Gentlemen all !" said the butcher, " I remember the Great
Ox of Hawk'ell well. He w\as bigger than this one, but this
one was riper, and died better."
" I shan't argey the p'int," Mr. Southdown roared. " You
can't get rid of the Hawk'ell ox by argeyment. My counsel
was took by John about feeding him towards the last, and we
made him the greatest ox ever seen, as well as the best, if the
northcountrymen gave in short weight. Cleaver, you're wrong.
That settles it."
" I ought to be heard about this," said the butcher. " Being
in the trade, I have the right to an opinion."
" Sir, you have no right to argey from opinions. I fed the
red ox, and I won't argey the p'int at all. I, being correct,
decline to argey. You, being wrong, have no right to argey !"
" O," said the butcher, " you haven't seen the prime parts
of the red ox at all."
Mr. Southdown was about to interpose another protest, but
the butcher bawled, " Now, missus !" and missus entered. It
was the butcher's wife, comely and rosy, deft at curtseys and
pleasant smiles, and with red ribbons among the laces of her
cap. Together they drew a white sheet from something it
covered, and there lay the sirloins and prime ribs of the red
ox in all their massive beauty. On one sirloin the name of
Sir Jerry Snaffle appeared in red holly berries on the rich,
yellow fat of the back. The other bore that of John Bull-
finch. One side of the mighty ribs was marked, in like man-
ner, Richard Southdown.
" Now," said the butcher, " I call that a pictur' !"
"I know but little about pictur's," replied Mr. Southdown,
except pictur's of live cattle. You may see the pictur' of tlie
great ox in John Bullfinch's parlor at Hawk'ell, done by a man
who needed but a little knowledge of the p'ints and beauties
of a bullock or a horse to make him the finest painter that
ever was seen in England. Pie done the Black Hoi*se at Ayles-
bury. I don't mean done the landlord out of his score for
drink, but done the pictur' of the horse on the sign. As to
this beef, I call it capital beef, as good beef as ever was in
England, save the beef of the great ox of Hawk'ell."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 265
The baronet, John Bullfinch, and the others' complimented
Mr. Cleaver and his wife — the former upon the appearance of
the beef, and the latter upon her own. The conversation was
still going on in loud tones when Young Jack drove up with
a spring cart, which seemed to be already well laden with
divers boxes and hampers. The sirloin, together with many
pieces of beef of about ten pounds each — cut by the knife of
Cleaver at Christmas time for a man like John Bullfinch —
a ten-pound piece ahvays weighed from twelve to fourteen, and
this was so much the better for the laborers and ^vidows with
families, to whom they would be given at Haw^kwell. The beef
being loaded, the cart went down upon the springs. Young
Jack, touching his hat to Sir Jerry and Mr. Southdown, and
favoring the butcher's wife with an agreeable nod, resumed
the reins.
" Drat that boy !" said Mrs. Cleaver, as she retired smiling,
while John Bullfinch said :
" Hold on ! what have you got ?'*
" Everything !" replied his son.
" Everything means nothing, sir. You give straightforra'd
answers when gentlemen are in company. Mention what
you've got."
" "Well !" said Jack, " there's change for a five-pound note
in shillings — one apiece for the children on Boxing Day.
Change for another in half-crowns — one apiece for the lassies
and lads. A lot of tea and sugar for the old women. Tobacco
for the old men. A box with a sight of toys, and a hamper
from the confectioner's, ordered by May. A saddle and bridle,
ordered by May and me."
" A saddle and bridle ! and who's that for ? Sir Jerry, my
daater and son do nearly as they like at Christmas time, and
for a man of my means, they are good givers."
Sir Jerry nodded and smiled. Mr. Southdown gave a por-
tentous wink, and shook his stick at Y^oung Jack.
" Who's that saddle and bridle for ?" said John. Seeing that
his son hesitated, he added : " Come ! you needn't be afraid to
speak out. I insist upon being told."
" Then don't you tell him !" said Mr. Southdown. " I mean
to encourage in my godson no disrespect to his father, but ' I
insist upon being told' is a species of argeyment not to be tol-
26G THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK.
erated. It's like what goes on at the Fox and Grapes, when
one of the fellows that t^pout against the Land and the Con-
stitution, winding up with an impertinent question, says, 'I
insist upon being told.' "
Sir Jerry laughed and John Bullfinch laughed. He then
said, " Well, I believe you have named everything and for-
got nothing — go on. Stay ! by George ! you've forgot the
brandy. We should be ruined at twelve to-night past remedy
without the brandy !"
" The brandy !" replied Jack, " I declare I had forgot the
brandy. I'll stop for it as I go by. It was Parkins put it
clean out of my head, with a story that Tom Scarlet was killed
in America."
" Tom Scarlet killed ! Sir Jerry — Southdown — did you
ever hear the like of this ?"
" An idle tale, no doubt," said Sir Jerry Snaffle. " Parkins
could have no news, good or bad, of Tom Scarlet before
I had. I took measures to get news of him three months
ago-"
" That settles the p'int ! Parkins knows nothing," said Mr.
Southdown.
" Ay ! but, gentlemen, Sir Jerry has been unable to get any
news of Tom, and that looks bad," said Young Jack.
" Jack," said Mr. Southdown, doggedly, " when you was a
baby being christened, I stood godfeyther. I shan't argey
with you. Lady Snaffle stood May's godmother — she may
argey the p'int with her, if she pleases. I say it's all settled.
Sir Jerry is right. Parkins is a conceited lellow and knows
nothing !"
" Give me leave for a moment," said Sir Jerry. " Now,
Master Jack, who is said to have killed Tom Scarlet ?"
" The Indians, Sir Jerry."
"AVhat for?" cried John Bullfinch.
"To eat him, Parkins says."
" Parkins is a fool," cried John. " Eat him ! why, it's
unnatural. And besides, haven't we heard that there's mil-
lions of buffaloes in that country? Who would prefer Tom
Scarlet to beef?"
Mr. Southdown shook his head. He had no faith in buf-
falo beef. No faith in American beef of any sort. No faith
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 267
in any beef but that of the cattle bred and fed in and about
the pastures of the Yale of Aylesbury. The Indians might
have had bufialo beef, but still wanted a change. " I've heerd
tell of such things," said he.
" Master Jack," said Sir Jerry, " I believe nothing of this
story which you have heard from Parkins, and I charge you
to say nothiug of it to your sister. John Bullfinch, my old
neighbor and friend f if such a thiug had happened I should
have heard of it before Parkins. Three months ago there
came a brief notice to me from America — that if, I accepted
the steeple-chase match offered by the Duke for any horse
hunted in the midland counties last year, gentlemen riders. I
could Vv^in it. The match was made. Tom Scarlet was in the
Indian country when he sent that message to me, but he was
on good terms with the Indians, and his business there was
ended. The message was one in trust, and faithfully brought
to me by the purser of an American ship."
" That's good news, Sir Jerry !" said Young Jack. " And
besides, if your honor pleases, we should have heard from the
American who took Tom into the Indian country, if anything
had happened to him. Everybody who knows that American
says he is a good man."
" The suggestion is good. Jack ; but who does know him ?"
said the baronet.
" Well, sir, the sailor Cox and Gypsy Jack. Jack says that
the American is a first-rate man. But Parkins says he knows
better, having had it from a sure hand."
" I'd give a pound if Gypsy Jack was here," said John
Bullfinch, in much perplexity. " He knows as much about
this American business as anybody. Besides, he'd tell me
what to say at home. It's nearly impossible for me to keep a
secret from my daater, May, without help, and I fancy she
isn't as hearty like as she was last spring-time."
" You must not mention it to her on any account," said Sir
Jerry. " It's ten to one there is no truth in it. I'll give any-
body a sovereign to lay me ten to a hundred on it. Parkins
always has evil tidings to tell of somebody. Where did he
get this, Jack?"
" From three tramping sailors who were in the lock-up at
Aylesbury yesterday evening."
268 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOX.
" These men were discharged, no doubt, this morning, on
account of their being sailors," said Sir Jerry. " Which way
were they travelling T'
" Towards London. They had come from Liverpool, and
told Parkins they should join a King's ship at the Nore."
" Ay, ay !" said Sir Jerry. " Very few of those fellows ever
reach the fleet, though. Kow, John Bullfinch, these sailors
I'll overtake before night, and hear what their story really is,
and upon what it was founded. I'll send word to Lady Snaffle
that business calls me away to-day. Ride over to the Hall
after your Christmas dinner to-morrow, and I'll tell you all
about it. Kot a word to your daughter on any account until
after I return."
With this the baronet mounted his horse and was about to
set off at a great pace. But Mr. Southdown interposed.
" One word," said he. " In Cjuestioning these sailors, keep
it dark that you be a magistrate. You may as well burke the
baronet, too. But let 'm know that her ladyship, your honor's
wife, is daughter of an admiral — one of IS^elson's fighting
captains at the Nile and Trafalgar. Sir Jerry, you'll find th"
of more use than any amount of argeyment. Sailors don't
like argeyment. My mind's made up on the main p'int. Tom
Scarlet's alive and well. But as you're going to overhaul
these sailors. Sir Jerry, keep the magistrate and the baronet
in the background, and bring forward the admiral's daughter."
Mr. Southdown delivered this in his most impressive manner,
and accompanied it by some heavy blows from his stick upon
the butcher's horse-block. Then Sir Jerry rode away.
When John Bullfinch reached home he found that his son
had got there before him. The Christmas presents had been
unloaded and put away. May had finished the decorations
of the rooms for the coming eve. The last sprig of ivy and
the last bunch of holly had been put up, and the bough of the
mistletoe of the oak had been hung in the centre of the ceiling
of the largest room. By the hearth lay the great oak log
which was to be burned that Yule, and which might keep
aglow for about a week in its own ashes. IMay Bullfinch was
paler and thinner, and her expression more thoughtful and
subdued than before. Her father was ill at ease. He had
agreed to ride with her to the Grange that afternoon, and the
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 269
rumor he had heard as to the fate of Tom Scanet made it a
very unpleasant and embarrassing arrangement. He ordered
her horse, however, to be brought out, and after luncheon they
set off together. The day was raw and cloudy. The father,
in no mood for conversation just then, knew no better way of
avoiding it than by riding fast, and they cantered rapidly on,
almost without a word until the Grange and its farm buildings
were in sight. The strong, old stone house, with the dark yew
trees standing by it, as they had stood for two hundred years
and more, looked gloomy, but the reception within was cheerful.
A large fire had been lighted in the parlor, and the crimson
curtains at the old-fashioned, diamond-latticed windows relieved
the sombreness of the dark oak wainscoting and carved furni-
ture of antique pattern. The housekeeper, an old gentlewoman,
some distant relative of Tom Scarlet's father, placed cake and
wine upon the table, and invited them to partake of it. She
had hoped Tom himself would have been home again by
Christmas, but she had received no news of him.
" My dear Mrs. Euth," said May, " we have not come to
eat, and news was scarcely to be expected here. Have your
men provided the holly and ivy?"
" Yes, miss, and a fine lot of it. Every room in the house
is trimmed with it but this. This, by your recj[uest, was left
for you."
'< Thank you ! A glass of wine, and then I'll begin work."
The boughs were brought into the room by a shock-headed
lad, who had often been threatened by Moleskin with imprison-
ment for trespassing, and by Parkins with the stocks for small
offences and disrespect to the " authorities." As he threw down
the ivy and the splendid holly boughs, thick with berries, very
large and very red, the shock-headed, yellow-haired youth
made a shy bow towards May and shot a glance of dubious
expression at her father. John Bullfinch did not perceive it.
" That's wonderful fine holly," said he. " It beats what we
have at Hawk'ell all hollow, and I saw none in town this
morning half as good. Where did you get it, Joe ?"
There was no Joe to answer this question, for the shock-
headed youth had stepped on the mat, and gone out as softly
and quickly as could be. Well he might. That very morn-
ing the gardener of a rector in an adjacent parish, upon whose
270 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
lawn there were some holly bushes of uncommon beauty, was
astounded at finding that the finest boughs had been cut in
the night, and carried off'.
May Bullfinch was soon busy with the decoration of the
room.
" Father," said she, " if he should come home to-night or
to-morrow, or any day before the new year begins, he will be
glad to find this room prepared as it used to be. The bare
walls would be cheerless welcome."
John groaned in spirit, and knew not what to reply. As
she continued her task, he stood and looked on, making no re-
mark, but wishing it was over. The last thing to be adorned
was a picture of Tom Scarlet on a white pony, painted when
he was a boy. The finest sprigs of holly, the ones with the
largest and richest berries, were reserved for this. As May
stood upon a chair to set the picture off with the little boughs,
her father wore some such expression as he would have had at
the dressing of a corpse. At last it was done. The old lady,
Mrs. Ruth, declared that the room was beautiful, especially
the picture. "But," said she, "you have put no ivy on his
picture, Miss JNIay."
" No ; it is a plant of the damp and shade."
" Ay, it minds one of the cold churchyard," returned the
old lady.
" While the bonny holly," said May, "glows like the fire of
the Yule log upon the hearth, and the red Christmas wine."
"I must stop this," said John Bullfinch. Then aloud,
" May, ray dear, the way is long, and the day is almost done.
Let us say good-by to Mrs. Ruth."
" Go, father, I will follow."
The farmer and the housekeeper went out of the room to-
gether. May knelt just under the picture and said the Lord's
Prayer. Then she joined her father.
Mr. Bullfinch was unable to leave the Grange as soon as he
expected. A turning movement was executed upon his flank,
and his retreat was cut off, so to speak, by an old inmate of
the Grange. It was the hunting groom. Straddles by name,
who now accosted him, and made a request that he should
visit the stable?
" What, is there something wrong, Straddles ? Anything
lame?"
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 271
" No, sir ; nothing of the kind. I only want you to see that
things ai'e in order," replied Straddles. " He'll find his hunt-
ers fit to go to the meet and take part in a hard run, if he
comes home to-morrow. You come and see."
" Go, father. I should like to see myself," said May.
The horses were examined, and John pronounced them all
right.
" So," said he to Straddles, " you look for Tom before the
hunting season is over, do you ?"
" Of course I do ! My own opinion is he'll be here before
another week is over ; but it ain't an event to bet upon. He's
uncertain as to time, but sure in the end. I have lived at the
Grange above fifty year, and I ought to know the Scarlets.
Tom is a Scarlet all over. You can't say just when he'll come,
but you can say that he will come."
" Straddles," said May, " perhaos vou can say when you ex-
pect him."
" I can, miss," replied Straddles confidently. " I expect him
every hour. He may come at any moment. There's a box
kept done up for the horse he'll bring. There's hot water
kept ready to make a bucket of gruel for him ; for ever since
he was a boy, and even then, Tom has always been a hard
rider."
The confidence of the old man infected May and her father.
The evidence of the box kept in order, and the hot water
ready to make gruel for the tired horse, seemed to John to
outweigh anything which might have fallen from roving sail-
ors, and had come through Parkins. Besides, the old man
put the finishing stroke by an allusion to Sir Jerry Snafile's
great match.
" He may," said he, " be detained for a week or two more.
The wind is east at present. But he's sure to be here to ride
Sir Jerry's horse, in the match. That's the latest moment,
and that's in March. Mr. Bullfinch, Tom will ride Sir Jerry's
horse, and the duke will lose, as sure as his duchess wears
strawberry leaves. We may not beat him in the horse, but
we shall in the rider. They can't bring a man here that can
ride over our stiff country like Tom Scarlet."
"I don't believe they can, Straddles," cried John. "By
Jove, if this comes off, what a time we'll have at Hawk'ell !"
272 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
" I wish he had come, or that he will come this week," said
Straddles, " not that it matters to the match, but Tom is a
youDg mau of a kind heart, and the poor will miss him this
Christmas."
" Send the poor to me. Every mother's son and daater that
could have had a gift from him, you send to Hawk'ell. Am I
right, May?"
"To be sure, dear father. As to Tom, everybody likes
him."
" My dear, everybody don't like him. Parkins don't like
him. Sir Jerry made that remark this morning, and it ac-
counts for — eh ! — Straddles, he's sure to be here in time for
the match, is he?"
" Sure to come, and sure to win. You put your money on
as soon as Sir Jerry has got his on," said Straddles, assisting
May to mount her horse.
" I'm so glad we came here. That Straddles is a sensible
man," said May, as they cantered away, while the shock-
headed lad was still looking intently at the half-crown she had
left in his hand as he put the reins in hers.
"Ay! a knowing fellow," said John. "Sir Jerry will be
glad to hear of this, May. I'll go over to the Hall to-morrow,
after dinner, and tell him all about it. It's five o'clock, and
that nag of yours is lazy — send him along !"
CHAPTER XXIX.
"Duncan Grey cam' here to woo, •
Ha, ha! the wooing o't.
On blithe Yule night, when we were fa'.
Ha, ha ! the wooing o't."
"Ye gypsy gang that deal in glamour,
And you, deep read in hell's black grammar.
Warlocks and witches."
JOHN BULLFINCH and his daughter had left Hawkwell
on their way to the Grange but a short time, when a vis-
itor arrived at the farm, who received a very cordial welcome
from Young Jack. They had not been acquainted many
weeks, but the visitor was in high favor with the lad, and not
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 273
without some reason. In the first place, he was young ; in
the next, of high birth and station ; third, he was very frank
and courteous; and last. Young Jack had been able to do
him a favor, and confer distinction upon him in the hunting
field. He was tall, slender, with a high-bred look, and he was
mounted on a superb gray hunter. The young man's com-
plexion was fair, his hair was brown and curly, his eyes were
a rich hazel, and he had not a shade of beard or whisker. His
age was about two-and-twenty, but he looked much younger,
and this was a matter of some annoyance to the heir of
the Doomsdays, one of the wealthiest and most powerful of
the noble families in the kingdom. Often, as Lord Doomsday
surveyed his very handsome face and fine figure in the glass,
he turned away with impatience, because of his boyish appear-
ance. He commonly hunted in Leicestershire and ]!^orthamp-
tonshire, in which counties his father possessed large estates,
but this season he had given much of his time to the hounds
of Sir Jerry Suafile and those of the famous Heythrop Hunt.
He had soon become passably well acquainted with John
Bullfinch, whose sterling character and worth had been made
known to him by Sir Jerry Snaffle, the major, and some other
gentlemen of the neighborhood. Moreover, he had formed a
habit of blushing and raising his hat to the farmer's daughter,
May, whenever she appeared at the meet by her father's side,
which was hardly as often now as it had been the season before.
True it is, too, that Lord Doomsday's horses, somehow or an-
other, got to know the road to Hawkwell, and took him there
of their own accord, at times, when he was out for exercise on
non-hunting days. When John was at home the young man
talked with him on such subjects as hunting, shooting, the
landed interests, and the turf — especially the last. The Dooms-
days had been great breeders of thoroughbred horses ever
since the time of Queen Anne, and the family was held in
especial esteem by John Bullfinch, because, through the union
of Waxy and Penelope, early in the nineteenth century, it
had produced the ever-famous Whalebone blood. To these
conversations May and Young Jack commonly listened with
interest. Sometimes John Bullfinch was not at home when
the vouno; man called, and then Youno; Jack entertained him
with his notions of hunters, hounds, race-horses, &c., to which
18
274 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
the young nobleman listened with courtesy, although he rather
preferred conversation with May Bullfinch upon the usual
topics of the country side at that season — the weather, parties,
balls, the coming Christmas, subscriptions to charities, &c.
The young man was, of course, well educated ; he was well
informed on general subjects, and his abilities were good, as
those of the men of his house always had been. But his
youthful looks and his extreme diffidence, not to say bashful-
ness, kept him back in general society, and many mistook his
shyness and modest reserve for haughty pride of birth and
prospect of future succession to immense estates. He felt much
more at his ease in the presence of Farmer Bullfinch, his
daughter May and his son Jack, than in that of the gentry
of the provincial town where he kept his hunters. The ful-
some flatteries of some annoyed him. He drank but little,
and gambled none at all. He was too reserved to mingle
much in the general society of the place, and hated flirting
and gossips. John Bullfinch and his daughter treated the
young man with the greatest respect and some deference, but
no sycophantic observances. He stayed to tea sometimes, as
the long nights of the winter season set in. Once or twice,
when Lord Doomsday called at Hawkwell, neither John Bull-
finch nor Young Jack was at home, and on being told this by
May, the young man appeared to be very little disappointed,
and declared that, as he had nothing else to do, he would
wait, if Miss Bullfinch would be kind enough to permit him
to do so. As a matter of course, John Bullfinch held that
Lord Doomsday's visits to Hawkwell were on his account.
Perhaps May Bullfinch doubted this. The young man him-
self could scarcely have told what the object of his visits was,
but he knew that he liked to make them, and thought that
was enough. Young Jack was sure that the young nobleman
came to see him, arguing in this way : " With all his talents,
his noble family, his good looks, his great estates, the Whale-
bone blood, his splendid hunters, and his beautiful horseman-
ship, he is bashful. Now, in ray company he's got no more
call to be bashful than I have in his ; besides, 1 put him
through in the great run from Fringford Gorse, when we beat
the whole field, and huntsmen and whippers-in to boot." The
fact was that Young Jack, one day after Lord Doomsday's
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 275
first visit to his father's house, had galloped to his side as the
fox went away from Friiigford Gorse, and said, "This is a
noted fox, and we shall have a great run. If your lordship
pleases, you had better keep \\\i\\ me."
" But you are not taking the line of your father, Sir Jerry,
the major and the other gentlemen."
" No, my lord, I am not. I am taking another line. The
gentlemen would take it, too, if they could conveniently, but
they can't. They are heavy weights, and the old and middle-
aged don't care to tackle it. We are light weights and young."
" I say, young Bullfinch ! I'm not as young as I look," said
Doomsday.
" My lord, that's the case with me. I don't get credit for
my real age. It's a disadvantage at the start, my lord, but by
and by we shall get over it. Take a strong pull, my lord.
Your horse, good as he is, wall need all his power to go through
some of the bullfinches presently. They are every bit as big
and stout as those in Northamptonshire."
" You have been over this line before, but suppose the fox
heads away to the right — w^e shall be thrown out."
" But he won't head to the right, my lord. I know this fox.
He w^as hunted four times last season. After the last of the
four runs I w^as shown over this line by the best hand in the
Midland counties, and it's the one to take for those who are
light in the saddle and on good horses. Now, here's the first
of the raspers. Let me go first, please, my lord, and give your
horse a lead over."
Young Jack was on Young Cowslip, and soon she w^ent driv-
ing through the upper part of the whitethorn and blackthorn
fence. Lord Doomsday followed, and then they went on across
another large pasture field, the dairy-ground of a great farm.
" Now, my lord," said Jack, " you can tell by the cry that the
hounds incline to the left all the time, and that our line is the
shortest. If the Fringford Gorse fox runs as usual, and his
time is come to-day, there'll be hardly anybody in at the death
but you and me. So much for knowing the country well, and
being able to negotiate it. I was shown this line by Tom
Scarlet, the best ten-stone man in England. He pounded
your lordship once, I have been told."
" He did ; and, what is more, young Bullfinch, it was not
the fault of my horse, but my own."
276 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N.
" Ah, my lord ! there are few like you. Most of the others
that were pouuded that day bore malice agaiust Tom because
he did it. Tom has told me, my lord, that you were not really
pounded by him, but by the presence of the others. ' Jack,'
said he, * young Lord Doomsday will be one of the best riders
in England some of these days. Mark my words. Jack. He
comes of a riding family, and his only fault now is, that he's
too modest.' Perhaps that's my fault, too, my lord. But here
we are at another splitter. Let us take it side by side, with
plenty room between."
The situation of affairs at the end of the run was this — the
hounds pulled down tha Fringford fox in the middle of a grass
field, within a mile of Woodstock, in the Heythrop country.
Lord Doomsday, Young Jack, and a shepherd boy were the
only ones present to give the death-halloo. The huntsman
and one of the whippers-in came through the gate soon after,
their horses dead beat. After them Sir Jerry Snaffle, the Irish
major, and John Bullfinch followed. The young nobleman
almost blushed at their hearty congratulations. Not so Young
Jack, for he exclaimed :
" Gentlemen, if you please, his lordship and I did it, by
means of being light weights, young, well-mounted, and fol-
lowing Tom Scarlet's favorite line. If his lordship is too mod-
est to have proper credit given him in the county paper when
the account of this run appears, it'll be a great pity, and I
think "
" Hold your tongue !" roared John. " I wish you was half
as modest as Lord Doomsday, I do. For cheek you are un-
common. What do you mean by haranguing the gentlemen
in that style, eh ?"
<' O, well !" said Jack, " I only thought it wasn't the habit
of the heavy weights in this hunt to begrudge the light weights
— that is, begrudge a young nobleman — the proper praise when
he was the only man in at the death. I know Sir Jerry's too
much of a man to "
A burst of laughter from Sir Jerry and the major, in which
the huntsmen joined, cut short Young Jack's second harangue
on behalf of Lord Doomsday, and prevented the reproof which
rose to the lips of his father.
Therefore Jack had some reason to think that Lord Dooms-
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 211
day's visits to Hawk well were made with a view to see him,
and ou the day in question he met his lordship with a bow, a
smile, and a joyful exclamation. To Lord Doomsday's ques-
tions he replied that his father was out, his sister was out, too,
and he should have been out himself if his lordship had been
ten minutes later. He was going to ride to the sheepfold under
the hill by the mill, on the outskirts of their land, and hoped
Lord Doomsday would ride with him, as he could show him
the holt of an otter and a plump or two of wild ducks. His
lordship hesitated — he had come just to say good-by to Jack's
father and his sister, as he was going home to Northamptonshire
to spend the Christmas week at his father's. The earl made
it a point that they should all be home for the Christmas din-
ner. He must be at Brackley that night, and jide home from
thence in the morning. Very well ! Jack would deliver his
lordship's message to his father and sister, and would show him
that the green lane by the fold under the hill was the nearest
way to the Barleymow, from which he could take the Brackley
road. As one of his men had gone to Brackley with a spare
horse. Lord Doomsday agreed to this proposition, and they
jogged merrily along, leaping the gates and fences instead of
taking the roads. Suddenly, after a thoughtful silence, during
which he had paid no attention to Jack's free and easy chatter,
the young man exclaimed :
" I say, young Bullfinch, I take you to be the happiest boy
in these parts."
" Well, my lord, I am tolerably well off for a boy, although
I consider that I don't get full credit for my age and real
experience. Besides, I should be more pleased if Tom Scarlet
was home again. When he gets home, if he does get home,
we shall have a jolly time."
" You say ' if he gets home.' Is there any doubt about it ?"
" Why, yes, my lord ; there is a report — a sort of a rumor
— that he has been killed in America — the Western parts,
above a thousand miles from New York. But I don't believe
it. Neither does Sir Jerry, who has gone to overtake the
sailors who reported it."
" Does your sister know of this report ?" said Lord Dooms-
day, earnestly.
" No, sir ; she does not, and she isn't to be told until we
have found out that it's all a lie."
278 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
The young inan was thoughtful. He pulled his horse to a
slow trot, and then, lookiug down upon the hunter's mane and
withers, he said : " There is auother report. People say that
this Mr. Scarlet is — not engaged to — but in love with your
sister. Do you think he is the sort of man to make your
sister May happy ?"
" The very man, my lord. Why not ?"
" I do not exactly know, and, at any rate, I need not tell
until you have found out that his reported death is false. My
opinion of your sister is that she is in mind, manners, disposi-
tion, and person a very superior young lady It is not every
man who can ride well and pound people that is worthy of
her."
It was now the turn of Young Jack to look at his horse's
mane.
" I know that your lordship has no spite against Tom Scarlet
because he pounded the field. You do not know Tom as well
as I do," said he. " I have known him a great many years,
young as I look. He taught me to ride before he came into
the property. My lord, I know all about him ; he's the best
ten-stone — I mean he's as good a young man as there is in
these Midland counties. Ask my father and Sir Jerry and
the major when you come back. As for May, she is the best
and dearest sister in the world, except, perha]5s, your lordship's
own sisters."
" You need not except them ; they are married, young Bull-
finch," said Lord Doomsday, " and, good as they are, I cannot
say that I very much admire their husbands. You need not
mention that we had any conversation about Mr. Scarlet. But
in telling your flither that I called, you may say that I have
great regard and esteem for him and — and — your sister."
With this he pricked his horse with the spur, and after a
few good strides leaped the fence into a lane. Jack followed,
and at sight of a string of donkeys exclaimed: "Halloo! what
now?"
It was the cavalcade of three or four families of gypsies,
with terrier dogs and lurchers, women, girls and boys on foot,
and children in the panniers of the asses.
" What now ! young squire ! You may well say what now !
Why, here be we, Christmas eve a coming, turned out of
TEE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 279
the copse, where we was as snug as rabbits in their burrows,
and made to move off, the Lord knows where, by Parkins, the
constable. May the d — 1 fly away with him !"
The speaker was a handsome, bold-looking woman of the
tribe. Hair thick and glossy, black as the wing of a raven.
Eyes large and deep jet. Figure tall, but apparently very
agile, with long sinewy arms. Her skirts were short, and she
wore a scarlet cloak, as did all the other women and girls.
She led the foremost donkey. In one pannier there was
a chubby child some year and a half old, in the other a brace
of twins of some six months, who sat up and put Lord Dooms-
day out of countenance by the steady stare of their four bright
eyes as black and round as beads.
" Where are the men ?" said Jack.
" ^len ! wdiy where they always be when wanted. They're
off down in Northamptonshire, Whittlebury Forest way."
" Not on a poaching expedition I hope, Kose ?" said Jack.
" Poaching ! Good Lord ! young Bullfinch, who ever heard
of any of our people poaching ? I've three brothers in the
King's service."
" Ay, but. Rose, one of them serves in a King's ship, and
the others at Botany Bay."
" And the d — 1 take them that sent boys like them to the
Bay. But the two have done well in New South Wales. They
own more sheep than your father and Sir Jerry Snaffle to boot,
and ride good horses, young Bullfinch, though it's I that say
it in this green lane and not so much as a haulm-stack to lay
the kinchins to the lee off."
" Well, Rose, I know my father would not have you wan-
dering about this afternoon if he knew it. The lee side of a
sheep-fold is as snug as any copse. Go into our field under
the hill, and tell the shepherd and his boys that I sent you.
Make yourself snug there for to-night and to-morrow, and send
the boys with one of the donkeys to our house before dark.
He shall bring back beef and things, and something for the
kinchins, too."
" That's the speech of the young squire," said Rose. " Good
luck to you, Master Jack, and to your father and sister. If
my cousin. Jack Cotswold, and my fool of a husband "
" Is Jack in Northamptonshire ?" said Young Jack-
280 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
" No, in Lancashire. He's gone because of something
about Miriam, his niece. He may go to America for all I
know. She's there, and some say the Indians have carried
her off. But what then ? Some say the d — I's dead and
buried in Cold Harbor. AVhat business had she where the In-
dians were, and why did she follow Tom Scarlet and his
horse?"
" Rose," said Jack, " this gentleman is from ISTortharai^ton-
shire. His father owns great estates there."
" I know his father better than you do, and the young gen-
tleman himself as well," said Rose. " Many a time we camp
on his honor's estate, and though the steward would send us
packing, the earl let's us stay, and says : ' Good people, you
are welcome to camping ground, but you musn't injure the
plantations !' O, 'tis a bonny old earl ! Would the young
gentleman like to have his fortune told ?"
" Or to buy a dog ?" said the eldest boy.
" Or to see the twins ?" said one of the girls.
" No, never mind," said Lord Doomsday. " Take these two
guineas for the twins. I intended to give them half-crowns,
but it seems you are known to my father."
" Please, my lord, I think it is rather that he is known to
them," said Young Jack.
And then, as Rose tossed up the guineas with her thumb
nail and caught them as they came down, there was a rush
forward of all the women, girls, and boys, to assure Lord
Doomsday that they knew his father, the earl, too.
" May your honor's luck never fail," said the gypsy. Rose.
" May your horse never tire in the longest day. May the owl
never hoot nor the black dog howl under the eaves of your
hosts and friends, nor the red cock crow in the stack-yards of
your tenants. And good for you, too, young squire, is the
word of the gypsy wherever her people go — you and your
father. And for your sister, say to her, I have it from them
as knows, as well as by the winter stars, that she'll hear bad
news of a busybody and a fool, may the devil fetch him ! doubt-
ful news of a sailor; good news of him who slew the man on
horseback."
She said this with great rapidity and volubility. And Lord
Doomsday, escaping a moment from the steady, stony stare of
the twins, asked Jack what she meant.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 281
" Well, my lord, no harm to us. The red cock means fire
raising among barns and ricks."
" Ay, young Bullfinch !" said Rose, thro^viug back her tan-
gled hair, " and my young brothers, that was transported be-
fore your time, never 'listed under < Captain Swing,' but was
sent for poaching. Poaching ! Good lord ! If a boy looks
at a hare's run, or a mouse in a hedgerow^ people says he is a
poacher. I scorn 'em !"
" Ay ! But, Rose, I've heard say that your brothers maimed
two or three keepers in the fight at Wootton," said Jack.
" You've had that trom Moleskin. I scorn him, too. Tell
him I said so !"
With this she strode oflT, leading her donkey and her tribe
towards the field, in which stood the sheepfold of furze and
haulm, some eight feet high, and well calculated to shelter the
low gypsy tents and carts. Lord Doomsday rode the other
way, while Jack looked after the gypsies, and cogitated : " I
don't much like this," said he ; " Rose knows more than the
delivers ; but, one way or another, I'll have it out of her.
Never mind about the winter stars — it is what she has had
from those who know that I want to find out. Bad news of a
fool ! It's two to one that's Parkins — he musn't have speech of
May. Doubtful news of a sailor — that means one of the sailors
Sir Jerry rode after. Good news of him who slew the man on
horseback ! If that means that he slew Tom Scarlet, the best
news of him will be that he's hung. I must see Rose again.
Better day, better deed ! To-morrow, at break of day, I'll be
at her tent !"
CHAPTER XXX.
" Under a palm tree by the green old Nile,
Lull'd on his mother's breast the fair Child lies,
With dove-like breathings, and a tender smile,
Brooding above the slumber of his eyes,
While, through the stillness of the burning skies,
Lo ! the dread works of Egypt's buried kings
Temple and pyramid beyond him rise,
Regal and still as everlasting things !"
AT five o'clock in the evening of the English midwinter it
is about dark, unless there be light from the moon and
stars. There was none as John Bullfinch and his daughter
282 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
rode home from the Grange, loving and happy, side by side.
The sky was overcast and snow was falling.
At first the farmer whistled, but it seemed a disrespect to
the silence of the night, and he ceased his melody. A solemn
stillness prevailed for the most part, though at times they could
hear the baying of the distant watch dogs, while at other times
there was a near rush of many wings, as flocks of widgeon and
teal flew from the head springs, down the brooks to the open
ponds. As they rode along they could see the dark forms of
the hares and rabbits upon the thin snow% which half-covered
the young wheat. Once an old fox came stealing across the
road, and the farmer had a mind to stand in his stirrups, and
give the view halloo. He did not do so, however, but pointed
him out to May, as he loped along in the dusk, and observed
that he was foraging for his Christmas dinner. Away in the
distance they saw the light of the cottage fires gleaming
through the wdndows under the thatch, reminding them of
their own hearth. The horses quickened their steps, and soon
the evening peal from the bells in the solid, square tower of
the old Saxon church mingled with the rapid patter of their
hoofs. Pleasant are the bells in the young time of the long
winter night. Much gaiety there is in the morning marriage
peals which ring in the triumph of love, but other sounds
interrupt the harmony, which, in the stilly night, sounds un-
broken. Merrily yet softly rang the evening peal, to be suc-
ceeded at midnight by one more rapid and joyful, the ringers
being then partly primed with draughts from the cheerful
spring of stout John Barleycorn, a favorite time out of mind
through all the Midland counties of Merry England. The
lights of the old farm-house at Hawkwell appeared in sight,
and then John Bullfinch and his daughter w^ere received by
Young Jack and two of the men with sprigs of holly in their
button holes.
" Hawk'ell farm is a more cheerful place than the Grange,"
said John Bullfinch, as he gave his reins to one of the men in
waiting. " It's just the same as it was in my grandfather's
time."
" Well, I don't know about that, father," said Young Jack,
" for I've heard you say that you saw the elms planted that
are big trees now, as high as the old house itself; but nothing
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 283
has changed in my time, and I hope nothing will. But,
father, there's a party at Hawk'ell Farm to-night," he added,
as he followed his father and sister into the house.
" Well, he's welcome — who is he ?"
" It isn't a man, but a strong party of women and children.
You see, Lord Doomsday, going home to keep Christmas at
his father's — it's an observance the earl expects — rode over to
see me, and left many respects and good wishes for you and
May.
" Very good ! I'm obliged to his lordship. I'm sorry I
was not at home,"
" O, it made no difference. I took him over to the lane by
the Long Hill and the sheepfold ground, and there we met the
gypsy women and children of Rose Tanner's band, twins and
ail, on the tramp. Parkins, taking advantage of the absence
of the men, had bundled them, bag and baggage, out of the
hazel copse hollow, pretending that he had authority from Sir
Jerry, and there they were, on the hoof — night comiog, and
nowhere to go to, with Rose and her twins at the head."
" D — n Parkins !" said John. "May, my dear, that fellow's
meddlesomeness is insufferable. So the people are here now.
Jack ?"
" Why, no ; not here. It seems that they have often camped
on Lord Doomsday's father's estates, and promised — honor
bright ! — never to damage the plantations. Besides, Rose
offered to tell Lord Doomsday's fortune for nothing, and the
upshot was that I gave her leave to enter our ground and
make their camp for to-night and Christmas Day under the
burrow-side of the fold. I knew you wouldn't have the
women and children wandering about in the cold and snow on
Christmas eve, if you could help it."
" Come and kiss me, dear Jack," said May. " It was quite
right."
" I am not so sure of that," said John Bullfinch. " Jack has
fallen short of what I should have expected, considering the
time of the year and the bells we hear. Giving them leave
to camp was well enough in its way, but it wasn't enough,"
" O, Jack ! that is true," said May. " You should have pro-
vided for their wants, in remembrance of those who were this
night lodged in the stable of an inn, and of Him w^ho was lain
in a man2;er, between an ox and an ass."
284 THE WHITE HORSE OF WDOTTON.
" Never mind, Jack," said his father ; " it can be remedied.
After tea you shall drive the spring-cart over with some beef
and bread and things, and, as it's Christmas eve, a little sum-
mut in the drinking line, to keep the wandering creeturs warm
in their thin tents during the watches of this blessed night."
" Father, I went further than you and May think. I ordered
up two of the boys with a donkey. Rose sent one boy and the
oldest gal ; because, she said, as the girl reported, two boys
would eat and stuff and go slow all the way, whereas the gal
would hurry back to the twins with the best things untouched.
She knows a thing or two, Rose does. The gypsies are now
sitting round their fires, wishing good luck to this house and
everybody belonging to it. The twins are an uncommon fine
brace of kinchins."
" I wish I had been at home for the sake of the children,"
said May.
" Then you needn't, as you'll find w'hen you see how many
of the patty-pan mince-pies have walked off to the sheepfold
on that donkey's four legs," said Jack.
" All right !" said John. *' I remember Rose Tanner when
she was a gal, and her three brothers were convicted and sen-
tenced to transportation. Mere boys ! it was hard. And I
think I can see her now, as she stood at the ring side a month
or two after her marriage, wearing her husband's colors in her
bonnet, and cheering him on while he licked the Northcountry
drover in a battle for 2bl. a side. 'Twas a good fight, and the
gypsy won. I know who found his battle money. Gypsy
Jack and Rose's father seconded him ; and, after it was over,
Sir Jerry observed that Rose would make a splendid bottle-
holder. The Admiral got her youngest brother's sentence com-
muted on condition that he should serve seven years in a man-
of-war, which is, he says, the best place for the education of
boys in the world. He ought to know, for he went on one at
ten years old. But the table is ready, and we'll take tea,"
said John, with an eye to the cold chine. He then added,
briskly : " I have heard good news, Jack. That is to say, not
news altogether strictly speaking, but tidings."
" What is the difference between news and tidings ?" said
Jack.
" Sir, if you don't know the difference between news and
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOX. 285
tidings, after the education you've had, and welcome to more,
I shan't take the trouble to explain it," said John. " Parkins
is a fool, mind that !"
" O !" cried Young Jack, his father having trod very heavily
on his toes. " Gammoned, perhaps," he added, with a wince,
and backing away from the boot.
" Regularly gammoned !" replied his father.
About ten o'clock, the farmer and his children left their
own sitting-room for the great kitchen, or hall, of the house.
It was prepared for the due keeping of Christmas eve. The
walls were bedecked with holly and ivy — the mystic bough
of the mistletoe of the oak hung in the centre of the ceiling,
and the yule log blazed upon the wide hearth. The milk-
maids, housemaid, the dairymaid and ploughboys, living in
the house, were already assembled, dressed in their best,
with their ruddy cheeks glowing in the light of the mighty
fire. At a wink from Young Jack, as he glanced up at the
mistletoe bough, the dairymaid got redder in the face than
ever. John Bullfinch and his daughter and son took their
seats. The farm and stable men were expected every minute.
Old Will Dean, the shepherd, was the first to come. When
he had seated himself in one of the chimney corners May filled
his pipe and handed it to him. " We be met agen ! master !"
said the old fellow, after he had pufled out clouds of smoke
for some time, " round this here Christmas fire. I was a-thiuk-
ing as I come along how many years it is since I first saw the
blaze on this hearth on Christmas eve. I got up to sixty that
I can remember ; but there must have been more, master, for
I was but a little shaver when I was first employed as bird-
keeper and such like, by your father — your grandfather. Miss
May and Master Jack ! I dreamed last night that this here
fire had never gone out since I first saw it on Christmas eve,
about sixty years ago !"
" It's onlucky to talk of such thing, at this time," observed
Timms, the ploughman, who had just come in, and had caught
the latter j^art of what Dean said,
"To be sure!" said the dairymaid. "It ben't Christmas
until after twelve o'clock."
" I'll stand to it that it is !" said old Dean. " I say Christ-
mas begins on Christmas eve ; and Christmas eve begins when
286 TUE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
the yule log has been laid on the fire and is well lighted.
AVhy, I ought to know. I be the oldest man here, and have
seen more Christmas eves than any of ye. Moreover, shep-
herds be set down in the Bible in what it says about this
blessed night, and there's no mention made of ploughmen or
dairymaids !"
Old Will looked around triumphantly and resumed his pipe.
John Bullfinch, to cut off further discussion of this knotty
point, cried :
" Eleven o'clock, Jack ! everybody's here strictly belonging
to Hawk'ell ! pour out horns of last year's October. May, my
dear ! see to the punch. Your brother had almost forgot the
brandy."
Young Jack poured out for all the men and young women
from a mighty flagon of ale, and then his sister returned from
the bakehouse, followed by the two stoutest of the milkmaids,
buxom lasses who could swing a full pail of milk over their
heads without spilling a drop, bearing a great bowl of punch.
It was tightly tied over with a white cloth, but when set down
upon the hearth the fragrant fumes of brandy and spices arose
fi'om it. A few furtive glances at the mistletoe bough, with
suppressed giggles from the girls, succeeded the bringing in
of the punch. It was a signal that the crisis of the night was
coming on.
Half-past eleven by the tall old eight-day clock in the
corner, and John Bullfinch began to look impatiently towards
the door, as though he was in the mind to chide the tarrying
of some expected guest. The dogs, following the example of
the great raastift' bitch, raised themselves upon their haunches,
and made a little stir. The door was thrown open, and,
shaking the snow from his hat upon the threshold, Moleskin
appeared. Grounding the but of his gun, he cried :
" I know what you're going to say ! Don't mention such a
thing. It's all a mistake. I'm not late. I'm never late on
Christmas eve. Your clock is fast."
*' Dick, you are late," said John Bullfinch, with decided
emphasis, "but better late than never. The clock is not fast.
My grandfather had that clock, and it stood there in all my
fiither's time. That clock is none of your gilded, new-fashioned
gimcracks. She has been gone by a hundred years in this
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 287
family, and was never known to be a minute fast, or a minute
slow, on Christmas eve. I'll back her against any clock in
England on Christmas eve, barring the church clock. May,
my dear, we are all here now. Proceed with the narrative of
the first Christmas night."
Then May Bullfinch arose and with a sweet and low, but
clear voice, related the history of the birth of Our Lord as it
is given in the gospels. How the shepherds, watching their
flocks by night on the lone hills of Judea, saw a bright star in
the heavens, over Bethlehem, which had never been there
before ; how there came a vivid light, and the Angel of the
Lord appeared to them with great glory, and they were sore
afraid ; how he bade them to be of good cheer, for the
Saviour of the world was born of David's line; how the
Mother, going up to Jerusalem, had taken refuge in a stable,
where the Child was born, and laid in a manger, between an
ox and an ass ; how the wise men of the East saw His star
in the heavens, and came to worship Him ; how King Herod
issued a decree to kill all the babies, that the One foretold by
the prophets might be cut ofi"; and how the Angel appeared
to Mary and Joseph and told them to take the young Child
and flee into Egypt.
As she finished, a deep silence followed the cadence of her
soft voice, and all eyes were turned to the clock. Moment
after moment was counted, as they listened for its striking, or
the beginning of the Christmas peal from the strong old tower,
whose bells had rung it out to the frosty air of the night for
many centuries. It stood within a quarter of a minute of
twelve, and Moleskin said, in a ghost of a whisper :
" I know she's fast !"
He would have been reproved afterwards for breaking the
profound silence of the supreme moment, but at the instant
the clock struck there came such a clang from all the bells at
once as would have shaken any tower but the old Saxon church
tower, and as proved that the ringers were indeed tuned up to
concert pitch by the generous juice of stout John Barleycorn.
" Now, then ! who said that clock was fast ?" cried John
Bullfinch, triumphantly. "May, give me the punch-ladle!
Uncover the bowl !"
" Jest so !" said Young Jack, with a wink which compre-
hended all the maidens, and a glance overhead.
288 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
"Now, then," said John, when he had served thera all,
"men and maids, here's a Merry Christmas and a Happy
New Year ' Drink it, every one !"
They did drink it, and drank it once again. The glasses
were then then set down, and there were more glances at the
green bough with the white berries above, and a good deal
more giggling. John Bullfinch led his daughter underneath,
and kissed her. IMoleskin, as an old friend of the family, fol-
lowed suit. Then old Will Dean advanced and took May's
hand. 'I have kissed this here beautiful lass and good
daater," said he, " every Christmas eve since she was born.
Her mother, the best 'oman as I ever knowed, or as ever lived
(except the Mother of Our Lord), brings her to me the first
time on Christmas eve, when she was three weeks old — for she
was born just three weeks before Christmas — and, says she :
< Will Dean, here is the prettiest little lamb that ever was sent
to bless a happy couple since the Great Shepherd was born
unto the world.' Them's the words she said. Master, you
can't deny it. Master Moleskin, you can't deny it. I'll stand
to it — nobody can deny it ! Then I kissed her."
" Very well !" cried Young Jack ; " kiss her again, and let
some of the rest of us have a chance under that bough !"
May and the old shepherd retired, when, amid much gig-
gling and laughing, Young Jack led the youngest and pret-
tiest of the milkmaids under the bough, and the regulation
ceremony followed fast and free.
The immense punch-bowl was largely lightened of its con-
tents before John Bullfinch said : " Your shawl, May. Come
on. Moleskin ! Come on, Jack ! Tom is ready, with his lan-
tern, and we'll pay the usual visit to Cowslip. She expects it,
and would be put out if we didn't go. She knows when Christ-
mas has come as well as we do."
" I'm rather dubersome about that," said Moleskin, as he fol-
lowed John and his daughter out. "She's a very knowing
mare, no doubt — almost as much so as my dogs, but as to her
knowing this night from another night "
" Your dogs !" said John Bullfinch, with some contempt ; " I
tell you Cowslip knows it is Christmas eve as well as we do,
if not better. Eh, May?"
" She does indeed, father."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 289
" It's a true bill, Moleskin : let me explain it," said Jack,
detaining him a little. " It's all along of the bells. They
never ring at midnight on any other night save the night of
the New Year, and then, you know, they begin with a muffled
chime, a quarter before twelve. Don't you see?"
" Don't I see ! why, it's as plain as the sun at noontime, on
a clear day, but I didn't see it before."
The hunting-mare was on foot, wide awake, with her head
to the door of the box. She answered their salutation, " A
Merry Christmas, Cowslip !" with a joyous neigh, and to May's
pats and fond caresses she replied with whinnies of gratifica-
tion.
" I told you so !" cried John. " She's fully aware of the
season, and up to the time o' night. See seems unusually
pleased this year. What is it, old gal ?"
" If I might venture to answer for her — I don't suppose she
can speak herself yet — it must be this," said Moleskin, point-
ing out the new saddle and bridle in her box.
" Eh !" cried John. " This is a plot, and Southdown was in
it."
" No, father ! it's a Christmas-gift to Cowslip from May and
me. There was nobody but May and me in it ; but I happened
to mention that we had it ordered to ^lag Southdown, and the
little lass couldn't help telling her father."
"Well, my children, you have made me and Cowslip very
happy — very happy !" said John.
When they returned to the house there was the usual leave-
taking. The men went home. The maids and boys went
talking and giggling up-stairs. May and Jack bade their
father and Moleskin good-night, and retired also. Then the
cronies sat themselves down to a quiet pipe and a last glass
of the punch. Neither spoke — their silent satisfaction was
too intense for conversation — until the keeper rose to go. Then
John remarked :
" Dick, the night has been passed as, on this hallowed occa-
sion, it ever should be. To my thinking, there was nothing
forgot."
" A small trifle I forgot myself," replied Moleskin. " There
should be a small matter of a bag here. Ah ! here it is !"
He drew a bag from under a side table, beneath which he
19
290 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
had thrown it as he entered, and, emptying it at one shake,
out fell three brace of the very finest pheasants that ever flew
in the coverts. " With the compliments of the Marquis of
Chandos," said Moleskin, his cast-iron visage at its hardest
set.
"None of your humbug, sir!" said John, sternly. "What
do you mean by trying to humbug me f At this season, too !
It's your gift — your own, Dick ! And why wasn't it made
while the people were here, so that they might see how you
remember your old friend ?"
" Not a word on that," said Moleskin. "The sight of pheas-
ants outside of the preserves — dead pheasants — is a temptation
to farmers' lads and men not proper to be put before 'em. If,
through seeing these pheasants, any of your men had been led
to venture into the covert?, the consequences might have been
serious, for man-traps and spring-guns "
" Hold your tongue, sir ! drop your humbug ! It's your
present ! The marquis has nothing to do with it, and you
know it."
" I know nothing of the sort. I can prove by statement
and by argument, time and place fitting "
" I'll hear no statement ! Argument has no more eflfcct
upon me than upon Southdown himself Stop your gammon,
or I'll call my daater down, and she'll make you take the
pheasants away agen !"
"The marquis," said Moleskin, "directs me to shoot so
many pheasants, and give 'em away to the tenants."
" I'm no tenant of the marquis, sir !"
" I know it. But the marquis added : ' Don't forget your
old friend, John Bullfinch, and give him my compliments of
the season.' "
" There, now ! It's your own gift to your own friend —
that's what this is !"
"Well, goorl-iiight !" said Moleskin.
" Good-night, Dick ! Remember we dine at half-past one
on Christmas day."
" All right. I'll be here to a minute, providing that clock
ain't fast !"
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 291
CHAPTER XXXI.
"Mother of Empires! Daughter of Jails!
Hail to thee, New South Wales !"
MAY BULLFINCH and her brother sat awhile in her
room that Christmas eve, after they went up-stairs. The
boy thought once or twice that he would tell her what Lord
Doomsday said, but he did not. May repeated to him what
Old Straddles said at the Grange, but it did not much impress
Jack, although he determined not to say so. He would not
do anything to abate his sister's cheerfulness, and, though his
mind still ran upon the words of the gypsy, he talked of Tom
Scarlet. But while his sister sat with his hand in hers, and
recalled the incidents of former Christmas eves, at which Tom
Scarlet had been at Havvkwell, the boy resolved to see the
gypsy Rose at a very early hour in the morning. They then
talked of their father, and what a pleasure it was to see him
enjoy himself; of old Will Dean, the shepherd; of the
keeper, and of the Southdowns, especially the lassie Meg,
"who was a great favorite with them. At last. May being tired,
and Jack affecting to be so, the sister and brother knelt side
by side, as was their constant custom, and said their prayers
in the good, old, confiding style of children to a loving and
protecting God, " Our Father who art in Heaven."
Some time before the dawn of day the lad rose, dressed
himself silently, and went softly down-stairs. He patted the
great mastiff. Fury, as she lay before the yule fire, and then
went to the stables and awakened Tom, the groom, telling him
to clap the saddle on Young Cowslip.
" She ben't roughshod," said the sleepy groom. " Better
take Black Hearty. But wheer be 'e going before day, Mas-
ter Jack ?"
" To the sheepfold at the long hill, Tom."
" Then if I was 'e I wouldn't. Ship be all right, I know.
Shepherd Dean 'ull look out for them."
292 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON,
" Tom," said Young Jack, " the gypsies are there, aud I
want to see Kose Tanner on particular business. Say nothing
of it."
" Well, you knows best, Master Jack, but have a keer of
that Kose. She's a regular rum 'un, she is. If you want
your fortin' tell'd, better get Dark Janet to do it ; she's the
'oman for that theer sort of thing. Rose is too obstropulus,
and folks say 'ull stick at nothing — nothing !"
" All right ! Mum's the word ! I'll be back before May
and my father are up."
" Hold on ! through the strawyard, if you must go. The
step of a horse on hard ground 'ull wake master any time.
Look out for that theer Rose. All them Coopers be rum 'uns,
and theer's a mighty sight on 'em all through the Midlands.
Her three brothers was transported in their teens. The young
'un warn't fifteen."
There was a " nipping and an eager air," a light wind from
the northwest sweeping over the crisp snow, and the stars were
paling and waning in the wintry sky, as Jack cantered on
towards the camp at the sheepfold. John Bullfinch had not
told his daughter and son all that he might have done in re-
gard to Rose and her brothers on the preceding evening. The
truth was, that when sentence was passed upon the boy aud
the two young men and the elder gypsy women raised a wail
of woe. Rose stood up, threw back her bonnet, berated the
judge, and made such predictions touching the homesteads and
stackyards of the jury as made some of them turn pale with
fear. The judge ordered her to be removed, but she fought
the sheriff's men like a young tigress, and tripped two of them
off their feet. Long before her strength and fury were spent
Tanner, the gypsy, who afterwards married her, a very strong
aud active young fellow, caught her suddenly under the arms
and carried her bodily out of court. When the convict ship
lay in the Thames, bound to Australia, Rose trudged up to
London, took farewell of her two brothers (the other was al-
ready aboard a man-of-war, at Portsmouth), and bespoke the
favor of some of the young officers and sailors for them. She
saw the ship under weigh at Deptford, and repeated to her-
self the words of an old ballad often chanted at fairs, feasts
and races in the Midlands :
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 293
0, as we sailed down the river, boys,
It was in the month of May,
And every ship that we passed by
We heard the sailors say,
* There goes a lot of clever young lads
And they're bound to Botany Bay.' "
The gypsies never lost their cheerfulness. They were looked
upon with favor by the sailors, marines and petty officers.
Poaching is, no doubt, a crime of extraordinary atrocity, but
that class of people do uot so regard it. Only once during
the passage were Rose's brothers put in irons, and that was but
for two or three days. Even in a convict ship there are classes
and factions. The London convicts, led by some eminent but
unfortunate members of the swell mob, treated the country
party with high disdain, calling them chaw-bacons, joskins,
bumpkins, yokels, &c. This was borne for some time ; but one
day, when rations were being served out, one of the swells,
with much dignity and hauteur, ordered the gypsies to stand
back. " Stan' back be d d ! we've as much right here as
you !" said the elder, and forthwith knocked the gentleman
down, whereupon his brother floored a highly respectable and
polished forger. In Australia, the gypsies were soon assigned
to an old army officer, who owned tens of thousands of sheep.
For three or four years they were shepherds on some of the
wildest and most remote runs in the colony. The life suited
them and they suited the life. They had a desperate battle
with a tribe of wild blacks, and repulsed them, with two or
three killed and several wounded. They stood high in favor
with their employer, and with his consent, volunteered for an
exploring expedition in the interior. There was no Melbourne
and no colony of Victoria then. After months of sore pri-
vation and the loss of many men, the expedition, or what re-
mained of it, limped back to New South Wales. For their
services, the gypsies received tickets of leave at once. The
old colonel furnished them with sheep on credit, and set them
up on a distant run. The gypsies were soon on the way to
wealth, and in a very few years possessed such land, flocks of
sheep and droves of horses as constituted riches beyond the
wildest dreams of their tribe at home. Behold, O rulers,
philosophers and sages, the mockery of fate ! Here was the
one who had been " graciously pardoned," a man before the
294 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
mast in a ship of war ; and here were those who had crossed
the line, under the sign of bayonets and handcuffs, great
proprietors at the Antipodes, sure to be ranked among the
explorers and founders of the future mighty empire of the
Southeast. John Bullfinch did not know all this, but he did
know that the Coopers were now free men, their fourteen years
having expired, and that they w^ere uncommonly well-to-do.
They had sent money to their sister Rose through liim. The
first time it was twenty pounds, a draft drawn by a Sydney
bank, and there was a sensible injunction from the brothers to
keep it secret. The letter in which the draft was enclosed
read as follows :
" Mister John Bullfinch : We writes this for you to read
to our sister Hose, having been larnt on the passage, a long 'un.
This is a fine country when you get used to it. We got a
sight of sheep and some land, also horses. Our run is a long
way from the coast. AVe are glad to hear that Rose is well
married. She was the handsomest gal of all the Coopers. A
Warwickshire cove, sent out here for nothing in pertickler, he
says, though the beaks called it highway robbery, tells us her
husband, one of the Tanner's, you may know him, is a good
two-handed man. He seen him fight Dick the drover, and
our Rose was there. We sends this money to you because we
know you to be a good man, real gentleman. The bankers
advised us to send it to the parson at Riding-Stoke, but we
have our doubts about his honesty. Vf e was pulled afore him
and fined twice, when we never done it. So now no more,
only if you can buy a good thoroughbred horse cheap, fit for
a stallion, ship him to Sydney, consigned to Belcher & Buckle,
for us. We got plenty of money in the bank at Sydney, and
have left directions to pay all charges. So here's good luck
to all at Hawk'ell, and to Rose.
" From her brothers, Tom and Elijah Cooper."
The second remittance sent to John Bullfinch from Australia
for Rose was larger than the first, and with it came news that
her brothers were more and more prosperous. What she did
with the money John could not well make out. He offered to
put it in the bank for her, but Rose received the suggestion
with some contempt. Her husband got but little of it, and
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO K 295
that was doled out to him about half a crown at a time. The
way of life of the family remained unchanged, but the brown
bare-legged girls were sometimes ornamented with earrings and
beads of gold. On one occasion the farmer asked the gypsy
whether she would not like to remove to Australia with her
husband and family.
"What!" said Rose, "leave my country, Old England?
Never, never ! Unless Jack Tanner should be fool enough to
get transported."
As Young Jack drew near the fold he gave a low whistle,
at which there was the barking of dogs, followed by the voice
of Rose in low tones. The gypsy came from her tent, and
made a gesture to the boy signifying that he should dismount.
She then made a dive into the tent and returned with a
Whitney blanket in which she and the lad enveloped the horse.
He was then hitched to the gateway of the fold. "Well,
young master, you're up betimes. I wonder if it betokens a
merry Christmas. I wish you one. Come into the tent.
There's no one there but the twins, with Jenny and her
young 'un. Come in out of the cold."
The tent was tolerably spacious, and very snug. When the
gypsy lit a lamp, Jack saw by its dull light that the twins lay
on a bed or rather on a blanket, thrown over boughs of balsam
fir. They were wide awake, and staring with all their might.
Beyond them was a large brown mass, at which the lad looked
■with some surprise, when he could make out what it was.
"That's Jeuuy and her young 'un," said the gypsy, holding
the lamp so that young Bullfinch could plainly see a she ass
with her young foal. The latter, with its great, mild eyes,
stared as hard at him as the twins did. " Young squire, you
may talk as much as you like about racers and hunters, but
give me Jenny for my money. If anything happened to me
she would nurse them twins. They suck her sometimes as
it is."
" It's a wonder to me that the twins don't catch cold. Rose ;
there's little or nothing on them," said Jack.
" I took the blanket for your horse," she replied. " But our
people never catch cold. We leave that to you folks. You
put up houses like jails, and it's my opinion that all sorts of
ailments are built inside. Look at me ! I was never sick a
296 THE WEITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
day in my life. Besides, the heat from Jenny keeps the
twins warm. Sit you down on the panniers there, and tell
me what vou came for. Is it for me to tell your sister's
fortune?"'
" No, it is not. May don't believe in those things. She
thinks it wicked, and says we should abide in I'aith and trust,
inquiring no further," said he.
"That's what she says, is 11?" replied the gypsy; "then
why the nation don't she abide in faith and trust, instead of
doubting and pining and saying prayers? Perhaps you want
your fortin' tell'd ?"
" No, I don't ; I want the truth told. Besides, they say that
you are not in that line. Dark Janet is the one for that, peo-
ple say."
" Dark Janet ! bah ! young Bullfinch ! She never tells
nothing above the cut of servant wenches, ploughboys and
cowboys. When I consults the stars it concerns the aristoc-
racy and gentlemen's daaters. How would you like to have
the young lord for your brother-in-law, young Bullfinch ?"
" Not at all," said Jack, stoutly. " It's a thing not to be
heard of. I'll stand for Tom Scarlet against the world. Be-
sides, Lord Doomsday don't like brothers-in-law. He told
me so !"
" You mean he don't like them he has got. "Well, there's
reasons for it. They want to come it over him, being older
than he is, and a precious sight poorer. They'd like to win
his money at blind hookey, and he won't let 'em, so no love is
lost. Scarlet was all very well. Good fellow enough— the
best rider in the Midlands. But he's running a race with the
d — 1, and it's neck and neck, if he isn't dead by this time."
"Eosc," said the boy, "I love my sister; I have always
loved her, and now I see her with trouble on her mind,
I would give anything to help her. I am sure you know
more about what the sailors said, or what somebody has said,
than you have owned up to."
" Now, by the bright stars that shine over the eastern lands
and above the southern seas, where my boys live — my brothers
— you say well. Young Jack. If I consults the stars, I shall
find out more about Tom Scarlet, and Miriam, and the other,
and what not, than Sir Jerry would get out of them sailor
THE WHITE HOBSE OF WOOTTON. 297
chaps in a month of Sundays. Them fellows can hardly be
called real sailors. Now, I have got a man-o'-war's man, who
went aboard at fifteen, or a little less, and has been in the
service eighteen years. Shall I consult the stars about Scar-
let, and him, and the one who slew the man on horseback?"
" Never mind the stars now^ Look here, Kose ! Here are
five guineas. Take them and tell me the news, good or bad.
It seems to me that if Tom Scarlet is killed, my sister's heart
will break and I shall never want any money any more," said
Jack, with tears.
" Let me see that money !" said the gypsy, violently. " It's
honestly come by, I'll swear. Boy, put that money up ! You
remind me of my young brother Jim, when he stood with Tom
and Elijah at the bar and the judge pronounced the cruel sen-
tence, ' transportation beyond the seas for the term of fourteen
years.' Put that money up, I say ! I have gold galore. Look
here !"
She drew forth an old tea-caddy and poured out a stream
of coined gold into her lap. The boy looked on amazed, but
said nothing, and she returned the money to its hiding-place.
"Now, be secret about this money," she said. "Nobody
knows of it but you and me and Tom and Elijah, who sent it
from Australia to your father. I've hoarded it for years and
years. What do you think it's for ?"
" For the twins and the other children, I should think," he
replied.
" The d — 1 a bit. Young Jack ! The children's uncles in
Australia have plenty for them. This is for their young
brother, my young brother, Jim Cooper ; the bonniest lad that
ever snared a hare or took a duck's nest. O, Young Jack I"
she exclaimed, seizing his hand, " 'tis eighteen years since that
boy stood at the bar. Eighteen years in men-of-war, all over
the world, and now, for the first time, he's coming home again !
I always knew the young one would come. I never thought
the others would, especially after I found they had so much
money."
" Rose, I'm very glad ; and I'll say nothing about the gold,"
said Young Jack. " But now, since you feel so much joy over
the near return of your brother, tell me all you know, or think,
about Tom Scarlet. Let my sister and me rejoice too, if it is
298 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
possible. You didn't find out about Jim's return from the
stars."
" You're right, I did not. I had it from a person who knows ;
one who saw him at Halifax. His ship was about to sail for
England, and ought to be, by this time, in the Channel, if not
anchored off Portsmouth."
" And that man told you about doubtful news for my sister
May from a sailor, and good news from the man who slew the
man on horseback?"
" Nothing of the sort. It wasn't a man that told me at all,
but a woman — a young woman who expects to be married to a
man now at sea, but running in for the land, I think."
<« Then there's no hope from that source," said Jack, de-
sjDondiiigly.
" Jack, my boy ! my good boy ! I never said so. It may be
a deal better than you think. Nay, I am sure it is. Go home
and keep your spirits up. By that means you'll comfort your
sister. Be of cheer ! Look at them twins, and at Jenny's
foal. Care killed a cat ! I can't say any more, and I won't.
When you see or hear of a sailor in this neighborhood — I
mean the real thing — man-of-war's man, captain of the fore-
top, and well-bekuown to the Admiral — jump on Black Hearty
and ride to me as if the d — 1 was behind you."
"Thanks, Rose! Good-by !" said Young Jack. "I see
by the light through the tent that the dawn is breaking. Shall
I tell my father about that gold ? As it came to him, I sup-
pose I may ?"
" Jack, the least said about that the better, until Jim ar-
rives," said the gypsy. "My husband is very w^ell content
now, but he would worrit the life out of me if he knew how
much money I have. Wait till Jim comes home. You may
tell your father that he's coming."
"Ay, coming from Halifax!" said Jack. "Rose, it just
strikes me this moment that I've heard of that place before."
" Very likely ! There's a tow^n of the name in Yorkshire."
" Ay, so there is," said Jack, " but there's another in Nova
Scotia, Rose, and that's in America, as sure as my name is
Bullfinch."
" Well, what of it ? It's a thousand mile, very likely two
thousand, from wdiere the sailors sailed from that said the man
was killed and Miriam carried oft' by the Indian."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 299
" You don't believe she's carried off, do you ?"
" Well, to tell you the truth, I don't," said Rose. " Miriam
is a spirited girl — cousin of mine, you know, and isn't likely
to be carried far agaiust her will. She's more likely to have
carried the Indiau off than he is to have carried her. Your
sister will be up before you're home. Mount and ride. I'd
give you the stirrup-cup if you ever drank. When you hear
that my brother Jim is in the countryside, jump on your horse,
and come to me fit to split the wind. Do it ! And look at
these twins. When you be married to Meg Southdown she
may have such a pair."
" I say, Rose, none o' that. We are both very young at
present — at least, Meg is ; and I know that when we are mar-
ried she will be satisfied with one at a time. Good-morning."
CHAPTER XXXII.
" O'er capon, heron-shaw, and crane,
And princely peacock's gilded train,
And o'er the boar's head garnished brave,
And cygnet from St. Mary's wave;
O'er ptarmigan and venison,
The priest had said his benison."
AMONG the notable discoveries of modern times in
" Merrie England " there is one, announced by several
writers, including Mr. Frank Buckland, to the effect that no
Englishwoman can cook a dinner. It happened, about a year
ago, that this lamentable fact was brought to the notice of a
party of exiles of Albion, who were dining in New York —
very well, as they ignorantly supposed, after the manner of
their savage and uncultivated ancestors — upon roast beef,
boiled mutton and caper sauce, ducks, capons, plum-pudding,
mince-pie, apricot-tarts, etc. This repast, coarse and vulgar
as it must have been according to Mr. Buckland, a perfidious
Englishwoman had pretended to cook, and the benighted com-
pany actually ate it with relish. Indeed, they treated the dis-
covery of Mr. Buckland with that sort of churlish contempt
with which the precepts of the wise are commonly received by
the vulgar. One old fellow, of some wealth and standing, but
300 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON,
much brutality, proposed that the writings of the philosophers
above mentioned should be searched, over the wine, for the
necessary corollary to the statement, " No Englishwoman can
cook a dinner," which, the old fellow in question declared,
must be, "no Englishman can eat a dinner!" The books
were sent for, at this suggestion, and gone through by the
chairman, but somehow or another, probably from haste and
carelessness, the necessary corollary was not found.
It may be that no Englishwoman can noiv cook a dinner ;
but in that case, what with normal schools, women's rights,
fish museums and snug sinecures for diletante philosophers,
the culinary art has been much neglected of late, in the little
islands beyond the melancholy main. Forty years ago it was
an article of faith with the gentlemen and fox-hunters of good
appetite and renown that Englishwomen could cook a very
good dinner. If anybody had made a statement to the con-
trary in the kitchen of the Barleyraow, where in the first
week of January the buxom landlady, and the portly cook
who presided in the kitchen of Sir Jerry Snaffle, were engaged
in the preparation of the Hunt Dinner, it would have been
received with some contempt, to say nothing of hot water.
But this result would only have reminded the philosophers of
what Tim Moore called " the barbarism of the English, who
peels their 'taters before they biles 'em."
The annual dinner of the hunt was always one of the great-
est festivals in the riding. The wits of the BarleymoAV wei'e
yearly threshed, and all its retainers, from the fat landlord to
ihe smallest waiting-maid, were annually inspired to venture-
some enterprise and exertion, in order that it might be served
with the profusion and excellence demanded by such an oc-
casion. Among those never absent from the time-honored
festival were John Bullfinch, Mr. Southdown, and about a
score more of the opulent farmers of the Vale and its neigh-
borhood, all good men after the hounds and before the trencher.
On the day in question they had agreed to come together at
Hawkwell, and ride in company to the Barleymow, where
they would meet Sir Jerry Snaffle and other country gentle-
men, the Rev. Mr. Jericho and other beneficed clergymen.
Major Fitzgerald and other officers of the army and navy,
Mr. Doublefee, and some other gentlemen of the learned pro-
THE WHITE HOBSE OF WOOTTON. 301
fessions from the neigh ooring towns. There might be ex-
pected also some gentlemen from Oxford, studeDts at that
renowned university, aud ardent lovers of hunting the fox.
John Bullfinch was already dressed in his best ; his daughter
had surveyed his manly figure and comely face wdth pride and
affection. He had kissed her twice, and was about to do so
for the third time, when the stentorian voices of Southdown
and the others who "stuck by the land" and followed the fox
and hounds, summoned him to the gate. In spite of the color
which glowed in her cheek and of the light which kindled in
her clear blue eye, as she parted from her father, May Bull-
finch looked anxious and careworn. The rumor started by
the sailors and blown abroad far and wide by the indefatigable
Parkins, had reached her and filled her mind with doubt and
anxiety, which her father and Young Jack were unable to
relieve. Sir Jerry had overtaken the sailors on the London
road, and had heard all the information they were able to im-
part. They told what the baronet called " a cock-and-bull
story" of a fight on the banks of a river in the far West, in
which an Englishman had been killed. Two of them thought
the man's name was Tom Scarlet, but the other said it was
not. They had heard the story at New Orleans, where it was
told them in a drinking place by an acquaintance of one who
had been at the affray. The acquaintance was a " river man"
— meaning one employed on the steamboats which navigate
the Mississippi and the Arkansas — and his friend at the fight
was " a gentleman by the name of Keeps," who had made
heroic but unavailing efforts to save the Englishman's life.
The third sailor maintained that the name of the man men-
tioned as killed was not Scarlet ; but he said that three or four
were killed, and Scarlet might be one of the others. He, the
sailor, remembered the Admiral, Sir Jerry's father-in-law, very
w^ell, having had good reason to do so. This was true, if two
or three dozen with a cat-o'-nine-tails is good reason. He
would have been glad to give the yarn from end to end, " right
off the reel and without a kink," and he should have been
able to do so, having meant to return and question the river
man at the grog-shop at leisure, but unfortunately he was that
night put in the calaboose for knocking a Dutchman down,
and never got out until he was taken to his ship by the police,
just as her sails were loose and her anchor awash.
302 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
To John Bullfinch this was very unsatisfactory, while Mr.
Southdown admitted that he could make nothing of it. Sir
Jerry, in his opinion, had failed to keep the magistrate and
the baronet in the background, and had not brought " fbr'ard"
the Admiral's daughter as he ought to have done.
" However," said he to John, " the main p'int is settled.
I don't care who was killed — Tom Scarlet is alive and well !
You may say there's no evidence of it, but I don't care for
that. My mind's made up. No argeymeut will change it."
The great room at the Barleymow had never held a finer
company than those who stood up while the Rev. Mr. Jericho
said grace. The apartment was ornamented with pictures,
emblems and trophies of the chase, mingled with boughs of
holly and ivy and branches of the laurel green from Sir
Jerry Snaffle's lawn. Here was the portrait of Gray Goose,
the famous mare ridden by the barcnet himself in so many
long and hard runs. Here was that of Kilkenny, the favorite
Irish hunter, which carried Major Fitzgerald so well. Here
was the likeness of The Waler, the wonderful jumper from
Botany Bay, sent over from New South Wales to Mr. Sidney
by his son. Here was the huntsman, Old Tom, on a famous
brown horse, the picture having been j^ainted for the hunt,
by a convivial artist who had run up a score at the Barley-
mow, which the fastest and stoutest of foxes might have en-
vied for its length. Besides all these, there were pictures of
John Bullfinch on Cowslip ; of Mr. Southdown on his great
weight-carrier. The Bullock ; of Tom Scarlet on Danger.
Then there were portraits of famous hounds, the heroes, the
favorites, the beauties of the pack — Rallywood, Ringwood,
Ranter, Rover, and Ranger, Vengeance, Velocity, Virago,
Veracity and Virtue. Nor were the exploits of the vulpine
race forgotten. Over the chair of Sir Jerry Snaffle, as he
presided, appeared the head and brush of that famous dog fox
which had run twenty miles, at a racing pace, as the crow
flies. Over that of the vice-president. Major Fitzgerald, an
Irish veteran, with but one arm and the scar of a deep sabre
cut on the cheek, were those of the celebrated vixen who had
three times fooled the pack at the end of good runs, but was
at last viewed effecting the usual entrance into the Rev. Mr.
Jericho's church, through a broken window among the ivy,
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 303
after which it was her custom to take sanctuary in the pulpit,
and sleep as sound as any Christian did during the sermons
of that learned and eloquent divine. In short, the decorations
of the dining room were artistic and complete, quite in keeping
with the occasion, in the opinion of everybody who saw it
except Young Jack. On being shown it on the forenoon of
the day in question, Young Jack was critical touching the
paintings, and said :
" If Lord Doomsday had been taken on Blue Peter and I
on Young Cowslip, just as we gave the death-halloo when the
hounds pulled down the Fringford Gorse fox, this room would
have looked much better than it does to-day."
The dinner proper was over, the knives and forks had been
removed, the ability of the cook had been mentioned with
approval, and the company had settled themselves for a course
of that steady drinking, which was the custom of Englishmen
at hunting dinners forty years ago. The usual and loyal
toasts had been given and cordially received, and now there
was a lull, during which conversation passed upon various
topics at different places round the table. Mr. Doublefee took
advantage of it to address his clients, John Bullfinch and
Richard Southdown, who were seated opposite to him, and in
the centre of the farming array.
" Gentlemen," said he, with a bland smile, " have you heard
that there is soon to be a vacancy in the representation of our
county in Parliament ?"
They had not heard of it. Southdown doubted it.
" It is unquestionably the case," said Mr. Doublefee. " I
have it from the best authority. Our senior member. Sir
Jasper Jericho, in consequence of age and growing infirmity,
feels compelled to retire from public life."
" More's the pity!" said Mr. Southdown, solemnly.
" Sir, you may well say so. He has been an able and a con-
scientious member," replied Mr. Doublefee.
" He stuck to the land and defended the Constitution," said
Southdown. " That's what is wanted in times like these here,
when all sorts of doctrines meet us on every hand."
" So he did. Now, as to his successor," said Mr. Doublefee,
in his most insinuating tone, with his right forefinger in the
palm of his left hand, and leaning over towards them as far as
304 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
the table would allow. " I think there will not be much dif-
ference of opinion among us here."
" So do I/' replied Mr Southdown ; and he added in his
most positive manner, " Sir Jerry's the man."
" Eh ! Sir Jerry !" Mr. Doublefee exclaimed, with evident
surprise and some embarrassment. " Sir Jerry Snaffle is an
excellent man — good landlord, patriotic in sentiment, highly
respected, and all that sort of thing, but "
" But what ?" said Southdown, looking Mr. Doublefee in
the eye.
" Why, my dear sir, and you, Mr. Bullfinch, both gentlemen
of influence — of very great and deserved influence with the
intelligent and patriotic gentlemen of your a — a — class — who
cast five out of six of the votes for the counties, and whose
knowledge and integrity form one of the strongest bulwarks
of the glorious Constitution in Church and State — I say that
you, gentlemen — I venture to say to you, gentleme "
" Come to the p'int ! We have heard all that before once
or twice at the hustings. You come to the p'int," said South-
down.
" I am coming to it, my very dear sir and esteemed client,"
replied Mr. Doublefee, in a coaxing tone. " Don't you think
that Sir Jerry's abilities and virtues are much more appreciated
here than they would be in Parliament — that he is, in fact,
much more in his element here, if I may so speak, than he would
be before the — the — not the woolsack, but the Speaker's chair V
"No, I don't!" replied Southdown, sternly.
" Lawyer," said John Bullfinch, " Sir Jerry Snaffle is in his
proper element here — among his neighbors, his friends, his
tenants, and the people in general of these parts. It would
be very hard to get another country gentleman like Sir Jerry
that is equal to him in every quality a country gentleman
should have. It's easy enough to get a tolerable member of
P.adiament, so far as my experience goes. But it's my opinion
that Sir Jerry in Parliament would tell the House a thing or
two, now and then, which the House ought to know. Not this
county alone, not our class alone, but all England, would be
benefited in the most marked degree, by having Sir Jerry in
Parliament. It would be like bringing in a strain of the old
blood after two or three out-crosses."
I
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK. 305
" Jest so ! my sentiments exactly. Just ^vl^at I was a-going
to say myself!" cried Southdown with exultation, while the
other farmers, laughing with glee, nodded to each other and
took wine.
" Therefore," said John Bullfinch, " seeing that we could
still have Sir Jerry among us for about nine months in the
year, I say we ought to be willing to let the whole of the coun-
try have the benefit and assistance of his long experience and
uncommon fine talents the other three."
There was great applause around John as he finished. Mr.
Doublefee looked vexed and astounded at this amazing defec-
tion of the men he had considered certain to support his views
and the nice little plan he had cut and dried for the filling of
the expected vacancy. His temper was not improved by the
observation of Mr. Fallowfield, a farmer of great wealth, one
of his own clients, who after staring at him intently for a long
time, said, "Lawyer Doublefee, you be put down! John Bull-
finch has laid 'e flat o' your back."
*' Hem — the gentleman has argued well, but from mistaken
premises," replied Mr. Doublefee. " Sir Jerry will not stand
for the county."
"He will if we ask him ; and we will ask him! eh, John?
eh, neighbor Fallowfield ?" returned Southdown.
" Gentlemen, gentlemen, I beg of you to do nothing in
haste," said Mr. Doublefee, hurriedly. " The fact is, that a
candidate has been already selected and agreed upon."
" Who by ?" asked Southdown, with a lowering, brindle-bull
sort of look at the lawyer.
" Who by ! why, bless my soul, gentlem.eu, by the profes-
sional classes — the townsmen and constituents, represented by
the committee which agreed upon him."
" Then I say let the professional classes — townsmen and
what not — elect him," roared Mr. Southdown, " for I'll be
d d if I put boot in stirrup to ride for any such purpose !
John Bullfinch and above five hundred more will say the same.
Sir Jerry's the man !" There was the hum of approval fall-
ing like a knell upon the ear of Mr. Doublefee from the score
of representative men who sat by John Bullfinch, Southdown
and old Fallowfield, and gloried in the force with which, as
they expressed it, Bullfinch and Southdown had floored the
20
306 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
lawyer. The latter, however, was determined not to give it
up.
" The time and place," said he, " are not suitable for the
dispassionate argument of the tj[uestion, but allow me to "
" I won't allow nobody to argey the question with me, sir,"
cried Southdown. " My mind's made up. Sir Jerry's the
man for me !"
" Exactly so !" cried the Irish major. " O, Sir Jerry is the
man for me !" It was the refrain of a hunting song, a great
favorite with the members of the hunt, composed by the con-
vivial artist who had put up so long at the Barleymow, and who
had been unanimously voted " an out-and-out clever fellow !"
" But Mr. Southdown, Mr. Bullfinch, gentlemen !" said Mr.
Doublefee, pathetically, " allow me to state who it was that
the — the — constituents selected."
" It don't matter who, as it wasn't our man," replied South-
down. " Sir Jerry is the only man."
" But it was Lord Doomsday !" said Mr. Doublefee, impress-
ively, and leaning back in his chair like one who had deliv-
ered a knock-down blow and fallen from the recoil.
The farmers, one and all, looked at Southdown to ascertain
what effect this coup might have upon their redoubtable cham-
pion. It was not such as Mr. Doublefee had confidently anti-
cipated.
" I don't care for Lord Doomsday — he's a sort of boy," said
he, doggedly. " None of us care for him. His father's land
is not in this county. H3 only comes here to hunt, and that
but seldom. Sir Jerry's the man !"
" To be sure he is !" said John Bullfinch. *' Lord Dooms-
day's father owns a great deal more land than Sir Jerry does,
but it's nothing like such good land. And, besides, it lies a
long way from this county. Then, again, in regard to the
two gentlemen as hunting men, which must be considered as
having great weight. Sir Jerry is the best rider. The young
lord is a good one, for a light-weight and a young man of his
experience, but Sir Jerry is a man of ten thousand in a real
hunting run. My son Jack is the only one who dares to com-
pare Lord Doomsday to him. Besides, Lord Doomsday says
he does not want to enter parliament for some years to come.
He told me so himself at Hawkwell. Sir Jerry is the man
for this county. If Tom Scarlet was here he would say so."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 307
In grief and wrath, while the ap])laiis3 which followed John's
remarks was yet humming, Mr. Doublefee turned to his right-
hand neighbor, Doctor Dose, the gentleman with whom he had
the colloquy respecting Tom Scarlet, mentioned in the early
part of this history. The doctor's memory was refreshed by
his hearing Tom Scarlet's name, and he said :
" Have vou heard what has happened to that Scarlet, Mr.
Doublefee V'
" No good, I venture to say, if he has met with his deserts.
What about him ?" said the lawyer.
" He's dead, that's all, and a good riddance."
" When and where, doctor ? and did he die intestate ? The
Grange is a very snug property, and there's no knowing who
may be the next in succession to the deceased."
Mr. Doublefee put these questions with a revival of cheer-
fulness, and the learned gentlemen took wine together, as
though toasting the next heir, whoever he might be.
" When and where he died, and what was the cause of death,
I cannot exactly say," replied the doctor. " In all probability
there was no post-mortem examination, perhaj^s no inquest;
for, though he died by violence, it was somewhere or another
in America."
" Somewhere or another in America ! That's vague doctor !
The next of kin could hardly eject those in possession, without
more definite evidence than that. The deceased may turn up
again."
" I know he may," said Doctor Dose, " for the vitality of
patients of that stamp is amazing. Nature seems to have
formed their economy to show that she is more powerful than
science. When Scarlet's crony, Belcher, was shot through the
right lung, I attended him. You would have thought that
would have killed him, if anything could, but he recovered,
and refuses to pay the bill."
" What a villain ! Recover, and not pay the bill. Why
not bring your action, doctor?"
" He pretends," said Doctor Dose, " that I never treated him.
If so, it was not my fault. Scarlet would not allow me to
probe the wound. Belcher himself refused to take any medi-
cine."
" And yet recovered — shocking — shocking !" said Double-
fee.
308 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
" Scarlet, however," said the doctor, " will not be likely to
turn up again. If he is dead or permanently detained abroad
by other causes, it will be an excellent thing for this neigh-
borhood and county. Pheasants will be more plentiful, poach-
ers more scarce. The fellow was a poacher and a friend to
poachers. Whenever one was in jail, his wife, sister or mother,
as the case might be, always flew to the Grange for relief and
encouragement. It will be a good thing if Scarlet never
comes back."
Mr. Doublefee nodded approval, and took wine with the
doctor. The farming interest opposite looked sullen and glum.
Relief was at hand, however, from an unexpected quarter.
Sir Jerry Snaffle had heard a great deal of the doctor's dis-
course and determined to interpose.
**■ Doctor Dose," said he, " were you S23eaking of one of
your ow^n patients, just now?"
The doctor looked confused, and with some hesitation, re-
plied, " No patient of mine, Sir Jerry, but Tom Scarlet."
The baronet's eyes dilated like those of one of the feline
tribe about to spring. The reddish brown whiskers seemed
to curl at their ends. With a frown upon his brow, and a
flush all over his handsome face, he rose, pushed back his
chair, and stood erect before the company of which he seemed
the king. His w'as a noble presence.
" Silence, gentlemen !" cried the Irish major, " silence, for
Sir Jerry Snaffle, President of our hunt !"
" Gentlemen and friends," said Sir Jerry ; I purpose to
make a few remarks, and to conclude with a toast, which I
hope and believe will not be unacceptable." [" Good ; go
on."] " At our annual dinners, as you are all well aware,
the majority are hunting men. A few gentlemen, however,
generally do us the honor to be our guests, who are not hunt-
ing men. They are none the less welcome. But they do not
understand as we do the sentiments which bind us together —
the feelings which grow^ up through fellowship in the hunting
field, between good riders and keen sportsmen of whatever
degree."
Major Fitzgerald. — " Hear ! Hear ! How should they ?"
" To the want of this understanding of this fellows-feeling
I attribute the remarks I heard made by Dr. Dose concerning
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 309
one who is now absent, but who was seldom ot never behind
at the end of a hard run, if he was at the meet. I allude to
Tom Scarlet!"
Great applause from everybody, except Mr. Doublefee and
Doctor Dose ; but especially from the major.
Sir Jerry continued : " Doctor Dose says Tom Scarlet is
dead ; that if he is not dead, it is to be hoped he will never
come back here ; that his death or permanent absence would
be a good thing for this neighborhood and this county : that
pheasants would be more plentiful ; that he was a notorious
poacher, and a friend to poachers and their families ; that he
was a bad fellow generally, and it is to be hoped we shall never
see him again. Gentlemen, is that true ?"
A " No !" which almost shook the pictures in their frames
was the answer all around the room, and Mr. Southdown, in a
voice like the bellow of one of his own bulls, cried : " All
lies !"
" Gentlemen," said Sir Jerry, in a louder and more ani-
mated tone, as though be had get what the company would
have called second wind, " Tom Scarlet is not dead. Neither
his death nor his permanent absence is to be apprehended or
desired. Gentlemen, we know the man ! We have seen him
go at many a thick bullfinch and sail over many a wide brook.
A better rider never sat in pigskin." (Great cheers.)
Tlie Major. — " A man of ten thousand, and always behaved
like a gentleman. Picked me up before I was down, when
me horse was knocked over by a tailor from Tooley street on
a runaway black mare."
Sir Jerry continued : " Tom Scarlet may have a fault or
two. I do not mean to say that he is quite perfect ; but when
he returns, if he should bring an action for defamation of
character, it will be very difficult for Doctor Dose to prove
to a jury of this country that he is a notorious poacher."
The doctor got pale and red by turns. He appealed to Mr.
Doublefee by a look, but that gentleman resolved not to see it,
and nodded to John Bullfinch, as though to signify, "Sir Jerry
had him there — upon the legal points involved, Sir Jerry has
the best of it."
The baronet continued : " Something has been said by Doc-
tor Dose about pheasants. Pheasants are very good "
310 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
The Major. — " Nothing better, roasted, with bread sauce and
the right kind of gravy. That I ate of here was done to a
turn !"
" But in a part of the country like ours," said Sir Jerry,
" there are other things to be considered besides pheasants and
pheasant-shooting. Need I say I mean fox-hunting and farm-
ing, hounds and foxes, horses and men ? Without fox-hunting
your men wdll degenerate in pluck."
The Major. — " True for you ! 'Twas and is the opinion of
the Duke. His best men at Waterloo were fox-hunters. I
know it. 'Twas there I lost me arm and got this slash in the
cheek from the sabre of a cuiraissier. (Hear, hear ! from Mr.
Doublefee.)
Sir Jerry resumed : " Without hunting your best breeds
of riding-horses would soon be done for; because there w^ould
be nobody to buy one worth more than twenty pounds."
The farmers looked at each other with alarm, and regarded
Doctor Dose with displeasure, as if he was an enemy to fox-
hunting ; wdiereas, some of his best cases had arisen through
accidents in the hunting-field.
Sir jerry went on : " The noble hounds, in which we take
so much pride, would be replaced with sheep-killing mongrels.
Your foxes, famed for swiftness, stoutness and craft, would
become mere sneaks — robbers of henroosts round the home-
steads — instead of bold outlyers in the gorses of the heaths.
Shall the breed of men, horses, hounds and foxes degenerate
in and about this famous vale ?" (" No !" from the company,
with uncommon vigor, Mr. Doublefee joining in as loud as any
one.)
" Very well, then, you will unite with me in the hope that
Tom Scarlet will speedily return," said Sir Jerry.
Mr. Doublefee had now turned his back on the doctor and
regarded Sir Jerry with a mixture of surprise and delight. It
sprang from his admiration at the art of Sir Jerry in so pre-
senting the case to the jury, as Mr. Doublefee said to himself,
as to make Scarlet, fox-hunting, and the preservation of the
superior breeds of men, horses, hounds and foxes seem all one.
Perhaps the worthy baronet scarcely knew himself how^ well
he had done this ; but Mr. Doublefee, accustomed to listen to
barristers of much art and eloquence, upon the circuit, knew
it very well, and appreciated it.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 311
Sir Jerry continued : " I hope, then, that Tom Scarlet will
soon come back. Instead of his permanent absence being a
good thing for our neighborhood, it would be a very bad thing
— great misfortune. His absence, so far, we have been able to
bear ; but if he is away much longer I do not know what the
consequences may be. Gentlemen, what are the facts ? You
know, that to maintain the reputation and exalt the honor of
our hunt, I made a steeple-chase match for a thousand guineas
a side."
The Major. — " So he did, with the Juke of Jumpover. I
was at the making of it, and it was a good thing to do."
Sir Jerry continued : " The conditions are, five miles through
the Vale, gentlemen riders, horses that were hunted in the
Midlands or the Vale of White Horse last year, weights ten
stone ten. 'Tis to come off in March. Now, how stands this
matter? At every meet in Northamptonshire, Leicestershire,
and Warwickshire they lay odds on the Duke, when the real
truth is, that my horse couldn't lose it if Tom Scarlet was here
to ride him."
Tlie Major. — " Be me soul 'tis truth, every word Sir Jerry
says, and if the young man is dead or does not come, I am in
for a hundred myself."
" Sir," said Mr. Southdown, with much volume and emphasis
of voice, " the young man is not dead. He's alive and well.
If you think he's dead, on account of what these here wandering
sailors said, about the fight and the Dutchman and the cala-
boose, you can do so. I shan't argey the p'int. It aint worth
while, because Tom's alive and welL You can't kill a man
by argeyment, leastways not till he comes to be tried for his
life."
" Gentlemen," said Sir Jerry, " I propose health and pros-
perity to Tom Scarlet, and may he speedily return to this
country !"
The toast was drunk with a thundering hurrah. John
Bullfinch blew his nose very hard with a red silk handkerchief,
while Mr. Southdown, looking at his lawyer, said with great
deliberation, " Sir Jerry is "
" The man !" exclaimed Mr. Doublefee. « There is no doubt
about it, sir. His eloquence will do honor to the county in
Parliament, sir. At another time I will enlarge upon this.
I have now something to say to Doctor Dose."
312 TEE WEITE EORSE OF WOOTTOK
In the great applause and satisfaction which had prevailed
at the end of Sir Jerry's speech the doctor would probably have
escaped further observation, if Mr. Doublefee had been willing
to let him alone. But he was not. He had determined to go
over to the other side, bag and baggage, and to signalize his
change of front forthwith. The learned gentleman, indeed,
resolved to act like the Bavarian artillery, who not only de-
serted Napoleon in the heat of a great and decisive battle, but
halted half way between his lines and those of the Allied Pow-
ers, unlimbered their guns, and delivered a destructive fire
into his shattered and wavering ranks.
" Now, sir," said Mr. Doublefee, with a truculent air, as he
rose and faced Doctor Dose, "look at me, sir, and at the — the
honorable court and intelligent jury, I was about to say, but
this shall be reserved for a future and more impressive occa-
sion, sir, and I will now say, the honorable chairman and
worthy company. What have you to say for yourself, sir ?
What excuse do you mean to offer ? What pretext will you
allege for the base, false and malicious attack you have made
upon the — the highly respectable and — and exemplary young
man, whose absence is so much to be deplored — Tom Scarlet ?"
If the floor beneath the doctor had opened and disclosed a
yawning pit, he could scarcely have been more astounded than
he was by Doublefee's defection and address. He looked at
his assailant with dumb amazement for a few moments, and
faltered out, " Me! why it was you, you know, who said that
Scarlet "
" Come, sir ! come, come, sir ! equivocation will not do ; pre-
varication will hardly serve your turn here, sir, and neither
will avail when the case comes on for trial in the Common
Pleas, or King's Bench, or at the assizes. As Sir Jerry Snaf-
fle so well observed in his forcible, eloquent and feeling speech,
the damages will be heavy — very heavy — when the action is
brought, and the case is tried by an enlightened jury who know
the value of an Englishman's character, sir. I shall no doubt
be attorney for the plaintiff', sir, and it will be my painful duty
to set forth in the brief I shall furnish, the express malice
which impelled your observations. You had better make a
clean breast of it, sir, and throw yourself upon the mercy of
the court — company, company, in order that Sir Jerry Snaffle,
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO K. 313
and the other friends of Mr. Scarlet, may intercede with him,
on your behalf, when he returns !"
Mr. Doublefee would have gone on at great length, but Sir
Jerry and Major Fitzgerald interposed. The hilarity of the
eveniutr was resumed and continued to a late hour.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
The day is cold and dark and dreary,
It rains, and the wind is never weary.''
IT was a dark, damp and dreary morning when the Eir-
mingham coach left the Saracen's Head, in the heart of
London, for its daily journey through the Midland counties to
the metropolis of the hardware manufacture and trade. The
passengers were few, and they seemed to be rather depressed
and disconsolate — an effect, perhaps, of the weather. Just
before the coach started two sailors came hastily up, with a
bag and a bundle. The shorter of the two, a broad-shoul-
dered, pock-marked man, rushed into the booking office and
then rushed out again, exclaiming, " Inside or outside?" "On
deck ! on deck ! even if they charge more for it," was the re-
ply of the other sailor. " We don't want to be stowed between
decks on this uncommon lovely moruiug." The speaker was
tall, graceful, and well-proportioned, without being stout. His
complexion was very dark, and his eyes w^ere black and bright.
His luggage consisted only of a bundle tied up in a silk hand-
kerchief. Yet he was well dressed. His monkey-jacket of
pilot cloth was new, and the suit of blue he wore underneath
was also new, and cut in the smartest and most natty nautical
style. Any sailor would have seen at a glance that this was a
man-of-war's man, though the landsmen would have perceived
no difference between him and a sailor just paid off from an
ludiaman at Blackwall. He wore a tarpaulin hat — that is,
one so-called, for there was no tarpaulin about it. The super-
structure was of the finest Bombay sinnet, covered with fine
silk, and painted a glossy black. He was an active man, for
with a mere touch of his fingers to the rail he vaulted to his
seat, the one beside the guard. Cox, the man of the race-
course, and of the fight at Baltimore, sat opposite. Before
314 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
they had left the pavements of the metropolis and the suburbs
which lie beneath its vast smoky canopy, the rain began to fall
sluggishly ; and when they reached the open country to the
north and west, it had set in for a regular rainy day. Every-
thing appeared to be in soak. The earth, the air, the sky,
seemed to be saturated with the ooze of the English and St.
George's Channels, and that of the German Ocean. The
sailors sat with the collars of their nionkey-jackets up around
their ears, and said but little. Even the guard was taciturn.
Cox observed that the weather was not much like that in the
Gulf, and the other replied, or in the Bay of Bengal or the
Mediterranean. With this they relapsed into silence, and
smoked their short pipes and Cavendish tobacco incessantly.
Whenever the coach stopped to change horses, the sailors
called for brandy, and treated the coachman and guard. Be-
sides this, they had recourse, at intervals, to certain flat bottles
extracted from the pockets of their monkey-jackets. The bottle
of the man-of-war's man contained arrack ; from that of Cox
arose the rich flavor of fine old schnapps. Altogether it was
a dreary ride, like a watch on the Grand Banks, they said,
and when they descended from the Chiltern Hills into the
vales below% the weather got worse rather than better. At
Tring and at Aylesbury the rain was still falling fast, but it
had held up a little when they reached the vicinity of Woot-
ton and Ridingcumstoke. But the waters were out in the low^
meadows, and the brooks ran swift and turbid, full to the
banks. In passing a heavy carrier's wagon, with its slow
strong team of gigantic cart horses, the coach was pulled ofi"
the hard road and almost upset into the ditch to the left.
" There," said the dark sailor, "a little more and he would
have brought her by the lee. I say, Cox, this is the place. I
know it is, though the country seems changed. The fields are
smaller, and the woods are not as big as the old woods were in
my time."
" A natural consequence of following the sea," replied Cox.
" When a man on the lookout, or what not, casts his eyes al-
most constantly over miles and miles of blue water, it improves
their range, and the big expanse of the ocean makes the old
things at home on the land appear to be very small. But, as
you say, here we be."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 315
Without more ado the meu dismounted at a cross roads, and
bade farewell to the coachman and guard.
" Now, Jim," said Cox, " you see there's a great advantage
iu getting down at a cross roads. If any inquisitive body tries
to find out which road you took, it's two to one he can't do it."
" Well, which are we going to take ?"
" Nar'a one," said Cox. " You give me that bag careful
after I get through this hedge. Then come on yourself."
Thereupon that worthy forced his way through the fence,
and having received his bag, struck across the sodden, soggy
field towards a smoke which arose from a clump of trees at a
distance. It was not from a gypsy camp, but from the chim-
ney of a hedge ale-house, one of those places in which the
landlord was, in the elegant and perspicuous language of the
Act of Parliament, " Licensed to sell ale and beer by retail,
and to be drunk on the premises." Just then, however, he
was not drunk on the premises, for the sailors found no one
present save the landlady, a comely woman, and four or five
shock-headed children. The sailors took seats on a bench near
the bright sea-coal fire, and called for ale. The landlady
quickly brought a foaming quart, which Cox warmed by
plunging a red-hot poker into it. Could the sailors have din-
ner? They could. Gammon of bacon and ducks' eggs fried.
Nothing better for dinner at a roadside house on a rainy day
in all the Midlands, unless, indeed, the landlady should happen
to have in her larder chops off" the loin of one of the great
breed of Cotswold and Lincoln sheep, for which the vales were
famous far and wide. The dinner was quickly and beautifully
cooked, and forthwith served with the large country loaf of
the neighborhood, and the fresh butter of the vale. Then the
sailors ate, and the conversation began. Where was the mis-
sus' man ? He had gone hunting afoot after the hounds the
day before, and had not returned. Did missus miss him ? In
one way she did, but in another it was a relief to have him out
of the way. Was there a gypsy camp in the neighborhood ?
There might be and there might not. Did the missus know
Rose Tanner ? She thought she did. Was Rose in the neigh-
borhood? The missus considered. She looked hard at Cox
and liarder at the other sailor. She couldn't exactly say, un-
less sh3 was sure that what she said would do Rose no harm.
816 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
" Harm !" said Cox ; " why, we be her best friends. This
mate o' mine here's her brother."
" Lord save us ! Be this Rose's brother ? I thought he was
jest like her. But which on 'em !"
" Why, the sailor man, to be sure — Jim Cooper, the young-
est of the brothers."
" I've always heard Rose speak of him as a boy, and this is
a proper grown man," said the landlady.
" Well, missus, I was a boy when I went aw^ay, and Rose
was but a gal. But boys and gals grow up, afloat or ashore.
It's eighteen years since I saw Rose, or she saw me. Where
is she? .and is she well?"
"She was never better. She's got twins, as like as two
peas, and she is in favor with the gentry, I hear. The shep-
herds and ploughmen who come here for their ale o' nights
say that Lord Doomsday gave her twenty guineas for the
twins on Christmas eve. Her husband, Jack Tanner, is off
after the hounds with my man. Rose's camp is t'other side
the woods, on the heath. It'll soon be dusk, and if you're
a-going there to-night, you had best be moving."
" Ay, ay, missus, I'm thankful for the news," said Cooper.
" We're going there, sure enough ; but we will have a pot and
a pipe before we start. I must consider things a minute. A
man's feelings ain't many fathom deep when the lead is really
hove for 'em. I say, Cox, you never mentioned them twins.
I could have bought something for them in Lunnon. I saw
a great many beautiful things for sale on Tower Hill."
*' All infernal trash. Just as counterfeit as the money the
coves make down here at Brummagem, and not half as useful.
You give Rose the money you want to spend upon her chil-
dren, and she will lay it out well."
" That she will," said the landlady. " Why, at the fairs
and races her gals wears gold necklaces, the envy of some of
the people of quality. Says I to a Jew peddler, says I, in
this very room, * Be them necklaces Rose Tanner's daaters
wears gold ?' ' Missus,' said he, ' they be, and fine gold at
that.' "
She forgot to say that he added, " As fine as dese chains and
earrino-s and brooches, vot I sells for half de walues."
After some further conversation the men left the house, re-
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 317
gained the road, and turned up a lane on the other side of it,
along which they strode in silence for a quarter of a mile.
Then a small field only intervened between them and the
boundaries of the great preserves. They looked through the
leafless hedge, and saw hundreds of hares and pheasants out
of the coverts upon the young wheat. As if fascinated by
the sight, the sailors stood and gazed. They then looked each
other in the face, and Cox said :
" Our nearest way is through this part of the woods. It's
half an hour, plain and rapid sailing, and then we shall strike
the heath just where we want to be to see the light of the
camp-fire."
" Ay, ay, I know," replied Cooper. " But this is just about
the place where they came down upon us that time, and we
three got fourteen years apiece."
" Yes, Jim, but the job had been put up beforehand, and
the keepers knew just where to look for you. From what
I've heard since, Tom of Lincoln whistled on the plan. He
turned against Jack Cotswold since, and cut and run along
with Jagger. He's still enough now\ A fellow settled his
hash at Orleans with five inches of steel. The place is here
as still and lonely as if foot had never trod it. Besides it's
nothing but trespass anyhow — simple trespass, and we won't
go round. Follow me !'^
In another minute or two, they passed through the strag-
gling fence into the woods and walked rapidly forward. At
the edge of a sort of open glade Cox paused, and placed his
bag upon the moss at the foot of a large and very old oak
tree.
"Jim," said he, in a whisper, pointing to a tall larch which
grew in the glade, " look up there !"
"I see 'em," said Cooper, "and it's very tempting; still,
it's fourteen years if they grab us."
" Not at all. It's only three or six months in the daytime,
and nobody can prove that it's night yet. Besides, there's
nobody here to grab us. We shall be upon the heath before
old Moleskin gets anywhere near here, and I'll have a brace
if I die for it."
AVith this he drew the stock and short barrels of a handy
little gun from among the clothes and contents of his dunnage
bag, and quickly fitted the barrels.
318 TEE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
" Very well, fire away, Flanigan !" said the gypsy, with all
his ancient ardor for the old methods revived in full and over-
powering force.
Bang ! bang ! went the gun, and down came two pheasants
from their roost on the horizontal branches of the larch, while
the others went whirring away among the tree-tops. The gun
and the game were hastily placed in the bag, and the men,
stooping low and walking rapidly, with caution approached
the outside of the wood. They were about to congratulate
each other on their success, when from the thick fern and briars
of a swale up jumped two men with a big mastiff dog and col-
lared them.
" Mind," said Cox, as Moleskin tightened his grip upon the
collar of his jacket, " we offer no resistance. We're merely
travellers that have lost our way, and it's nothing more than
trespass, if it's that."
" That'll do, Cox," said Moleskin, at the voice. " Where's
your gun ? And where's yours, young fellow ?"
"Mine's in this bag," replied Cox, " and unloaded, which is
perhaps lucky for somebody. This man never had one, and
he is, I may say, a stranger to me. Never met before yester-
day."
" We shall see," said the keeper. <' What the d — 1 brings
you sailors here anyhow ?"
" I think it was the d — 1," said Cooper, " for we had no use
for the birds, and if they had not come in our way we should
have been out of this before now."
The keeper looked closely at him, but the light was now
very dim, and the gypsy's collar was up. " Men," said Mole-
skin, " I never was a hard man, though I have always done
my duty. Will you go peaceably and quietly to my lodge and
stay there until I see what is to be done ?"
" We will !" said Cooper.
" Then I can tell you that you'll be none the worse ofi* for
it. Come on !"
The keeper led the way. The sailors followed, and the un-
der-keeper brought up the rear with the mastiff. It was a long
walk, and thick darkness fell upon the woods before the lodge
was reached. A fire was burning on the hearth, and Moleskin
produced a lamp and stooped to light it.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 319
" I say, keeper," cried Cox, "it wanted just about five min-
utes of sundown when that gun went off. I want that under-
stood."
" Five minutes of sundown ! Why the sun had set an hour,
as the almanac and my watch will prove."
" No they won't. Your watch is always fast, and in respect
to sunset you are always wrong. You don't allow for his de-
clination. No landsman ever does."
" What does it matter ?" said the gypsy, sharply.
The keeper had lit the lamp, and turning to look at him,
he started with surprise. The man had thrown off his heavy
jacket, and stood in the full light. There were the fine straight
figure, the nut-brown face, with the red tinge of excitement on
the cheeks, the very features, the glowing eyes, and the earrings
of gold, so that had it not been for the close-cropped hair and
the hard hands, Moleskin would have sworn that Rose Tanner
stood before him disguised as a man.
" Now, I'm sorry for this," said the keeper. " Which is it,
Tom or Elijah?"
" Neither ; it's me — the young 'un — Jim the sailor."
" Ah, it was you that fetched me the clout with the butt
of the gun after the others had mainly given up, when I was
under-keeper."
"Well the jury said so, and there was an end. But this
was a long while ago. Master Moleskin, and I've never been
in these parts since. As Cox and I have run into shoal water
without meaning it, what's to be done? He tells the truth
when he says that we met for the first time yesterday morning."
" I must consider. Bill, I must consider !" said Moleskin
to his man. " Go you the rounds to-night, and in the morning
tell Parkins to come here. Don't you sailor chaps be two
fools, and make bad worse by trying to get away. I have
your words, I suppose ?"
" You have, honor bright !"
" Well, then, sit down. We'll smoke a pipe and drink a
glass, and I'll consider."
The keeper considered for some time — so long, indeed, that
he replenished his pipe and refilled the glasses. Then, looking
at the fire with the air of a man in a brown study, he solilo-
quized as follows, with intervals of silence between the sen-
tences :
820 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO K
" A town magistrate wun't understand the true ins and outs
and merits of this case. Sir Jerry SuafHe w ill." (Cox nudged
Cooper with his elbow.) " My duty is to deliver these men to
the constable, and I must do it. That's plain enough to the
man-of-war's man. It rests with the constable to take his men
before any magistrate in the neighborhood he pleases. He's
fond of good ale, the constable is. Sir Jerry brews the best
in the county, and the tap at the Hall is pretty much always
a-ruuning." (Cooper nudged Cox.) " There will be a matter
of an hour or two in the morning before I can go with the
constable anywhere. During that time he'll naturally want a
glass or two. The constable likes gin as well as ale."
" What does he say to rum ? I've got in the dunnage bag
some as fine as ever left Port Koyal Bay," said Cox.
" The constable is very fond of rum and milk in the morning.
We shall have milk brought here about daylight. Sir Jerry
may not be at home when we reach the Hall. It's a hunting
morning, and I think he'll be gone when we get there."
(Cooper and Cox looked blank.) " But her ladyship will be.
As an Adnnral's daughter, when informed by the constable
that he has two sailors there for a trifling offence, her ladyship
may wish to speak to the sailors. If them sailors make a good
impression on her, the lady may ask a favor or two in their
behalf I've known her ladyship to ask favors that wasn't
refused. Still I, Moleskin, keeper to the Marquis, must do
my duty."
" Certainly ! * England expects every man to do his duty,'
and in you and me she won't be disappointed," said Cooper,
with much vivacity. " I will say that you'll be the means of
saving one sailor to the King, and perhaps not the worst in
his majesty's fleet."
" The constable," said Moleskin, coolly and dryly, " is a
great man for king and constitution, likewise the church. The
man-of-war's man is, of course, all right. If Cox has picked
up any revolutionary, radical notions, he'd better keep them
to himself."
*' Me revolutionary ! Me radical !" said Cox. " Why,
d — n it. Moleskin, I've fought on the Tory side at every
election there's been for fourteen or fifteen years, when I was
ashore."
THE WHITE HOESE OF WOOTTON, 321
CHAPTER XXXIV.
-Be not afear'd; the isle is full of noises.
Sounds and sweet airs that give delight and hurt not.
Sometime^ a thousand twanging instruments
Will hum about mine ears ; and sometimes voices
That, if I then had waked after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again."
^HE winter season was passing rapidly away. The days
-*- grew longer and the gales grew stronger, for the stormy
time of February was come. The sun was seldom seen except
for a minute or two, when it shone from among dark, sweep-
ing clouds, like the face of a beauty beaming for a brief space
between jealous curtains. But for all that, the birds were
already brisk and busy. The rooks cawed loudly and inces-
santly in the upper branches of the tall elms, and seemed to
hold counsel and debate over the ways and means of repair-
ing or rebuilding the last year's nests. The sparrows flew
rapidly about, and saucily chattered on the ricks and thatch
of the farm buildings, as if they owned them, or held them
under a long lease. The shepherds of the Vale prepared for
early lambing time, and now the ploughs of the husbandmen,
with their teams of powerful horses, heavy in the shoulders
and shaggy at the heels, were going early and late through
the rich loam of the fertile land. The first blossoms of the
young year, the snowdrops, might already be seen in the gar-
den of May Bullfinch, and she was often busy there. The
maiden was, however, restless and uneasy, and, as in the days
of the last summer and autumn, glancing early and late from
the garden gate. Hope deferred troubled and distressed her.
To-morrow and to-morrow ; but the truant never came. Tom
Scarlet was still absent. Nothing had been heard of him since
the roving sailors put afloat the rumor of his death. Mr.
Southdown and John Bullfinch still talked confidently of his
speedy return, but their anxious and impatient looks, when
together, seemed to give the lie to their sanguine expressions
before May. Straddles, however, was as positive now as he
had been on Christmas eve, that the missing man would reach
21
322 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
the Vale before the day set for the great steeple-chase match
between horses to be named by the Duke and Sir Jerry Snaffle.
The box at the Grange was kept carefully done up.
It was morning, and having breakfasted, John Bullfinch
was preparing to mount and ride to the cover side. The
meet was to be at a noted and popular place, in a country of
grasslands and small coverts, every one of which usually held
a strong fox. Cowslip was at the door, arrayed in the new
saddle and bridle, the Christmas gift of his children to John
Bullfinch and his mare. Young Jack stood by the fire with
an air of vexation and discontent upon his features, arising
from the fact that his father had prohibited him from hunting
that day. " It is not the place for boys ; the field, when we
meet at Stratton, is too large for boys ; they are in the way,"
said John, as May tied his cravat. The farmer then slipped
on his coat, kissed his daughter fondly, and held out his hand
to his son. Young Jack took it warmly, though there was
almost a tear of disappointment in his eye. But he suddenly
looked up, dropped his father's hand, and cried, " Here's Sir
Jerry, father ! May, here's Sir Jerry ! and I'm blest if he isn't
on The Bagman !"
" This is an honor, my dear," said John. " You Jack !"
But his son was already outside, and at the baronet's stirrup.
Dismounting, Sir Jerry Snafiftle walked into the house, and
taking the farmer aside, spoke to him in rapid, low tones, point-
ing through the window with his whip at the strong and beau-
tiful horse held by Young Jack.
" I don't know about it," said John, looking very serious.
" Work is well enough, and it is true that we can get no tidings
of Tom and the horse he bragged about ; but your weight. Sir
Jerry, will be too much. The pace is always good, and the
run commonly long, when we meet at Stratton and draw the
copses ; and you know. Sir Jerry, that you never pulled up in
your life while the fox was afoot and the hounds were run-
ning."
"I have another horse out," said the baronet, "I shall
change for him, and send The Bagman home at the first check.
Besides, I feel confident that Tom Scarlet will yet come to
time, and then he shall decide which horse to start. I thought
you would like to ride with me to the cover. On the road we
can talk."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 323
" Greatest of pleasure !" said John Bullfinch. " A great
honor, Sir Jerry, very great ! ^lay, my dear "
The farmer looked round for his daughter, but in vain. The
sudden appearance of Sir Jerry Snaffle at her father's house
had surprised her, and it flashed across her mind that he came
"svith some sad intelligence respecting her lover, and was then
communicating it to her father, in order that he might break
it to her. She ran to her sitting-room, and gave way to a
flood of tears. She wiped them hurriedly away as she heard
them coming along to^Yards her room, but the heavy tread of
the baronet and her father on the oak floor in their huntino--
boots, sounded like a knell. As they entered she glanced
timidly at Sir Jerry, as she curtsied, but instead of seeing the
sad look of one who brought intelligence of a melancholy
calamity, she beheld the genial smile which so well became his
handsome face. A fine-looking man was Sir Jerry Snaffle,
especially when he was in the uniform of the hunt — the well-
fitting scarlet coat, the buff waistcoat, tight buckskin breeches,
white as milk, and faultless top-boots with silver spurs. And
as May blushed while he looked very kindly at her, and took
her hand, she thought he was a marvellous proper man.
" I bring," said he, " an invitation from Lady Snafile to you,
Miss May. Her ladyship would be much pleased to see you
at the Hall, and as there is no one there, I have no doubt you
will pass a pleasant day."
" Oh, Sir Jerry !" said May, " I am sure I shall be delighted.
It is alvvays a pleasure to be allowed to wait upon her lady-
ship, she is so kind."
" Yes, yes ! the truth is. Miss May, that Lady Snafile is fond
of you, which is nothing to wonder at," said he. "Therefore,
as soon as we leave you, which must be now, you had better
let your brother get your horse ready and ride. over. He can
go over in the afternoon and see you home, unless you remain
all night."
" Thank you, Sir Jerry. My brother shall come for me in
the afternoon, if you please, so that I may be home again as
soon as father is," she replied.
" Be it so, then. Good-morning. Her ladyship must teach
you to keep your spirits up until we get news of Tom Scarlet,
w^hich will no doubt be very soon. Come, John !"
324 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
The farmer, intensely gratified, kissed his daughter again
and again, before he followed Sir Jerry. The latter, in a few
words, told the lad that his sister was to set out for the Hall
forthwith, and that he was to ride over and conduct her home
in the evening. Young Jack heard this with great satisfac-
tion. A visit to the Hall delighted him almost as much as a
day in the hunting-field, as he not only had gracious notice
and words of commendation from Lady Snaffle, but commonly
managed to secure an interview with one or two gray-headed
retainers of the family, whose large experience and long memo-
ries made them oracles in all matters of field sports. As Sir
Jerry and John Bullfinch mounted and rode off they were fol-
lowed by the admiring gaze of May Bullfinch, Young Jack,
and Tom, the man of the lantern on Christmas eve.
" There goes the best two men I ever held a stirrup for,"
said the latter ; " the very best !"
" Yes, good men !" replied Young Jack. " But Tom Scarlet
for cross-country work, is, to my mind, the very best man we
have in these parts."
" Why, young master, I warn't thinking of him. We don't
have him in these parts now. He ain't come back, you see,
and has been gone a'most a year. I don't think he'll come
back ; leastways, not for a good while."
" What do you mean ?" said Young Jack.
" Well, a score of years or so," replied the man. " You see,
nothing has been heard of him. Some think he is dead. I
don't believe he is."
" What do you think then ?"
" Master Jack," replied the man, " it's my belief he's 'listed
for a soger ; and, by George, "what a sergeant in the dragoons
he'll make! I think I should 'list myself if his regiment was
to come along this way, with their helmets and sashes and long
swords."
" Go and saddle May's horse," said Young Jack. " She is
going to the Hall to visit Lady Snaffle. In the evening I shall
be there to fetch her home. Be lively, Tom."
By the time Tom had the horse at the door May Bullfinch
was dressed for her little journey. She was glad of the oppor-
tunity to reveal all her hopes and fears to Lady Snaffle. In-
deed, she had been urged to do so by one of her best friends ;
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO K 325
for, seeing how she pined, a prey to anxiety and doubt, Mr.
Southdown had recommended frequent visits to his wife and
daughters, and had insisted that she should no longer neglect
to consult with the Admiral's daughter. So, with an admoni-
tion and a kiss to Jack, May started.
The day was dark and bleak, as she rode between the leaf-
less hedges of the lanes which were the shortest way to Sir
Jerry's house. At the top of the hill she paused and surveyed
the wide expanse of the dreary heath between her and the
woodlands which bounded Sir Jerry's park and shut in the
sheltered pastures of the vale. Far to the left, from among
clumps of gorse, in its winter suit, she saw the smoking rising
from a gypsy camp and drifting away before the wind. No
mark of settled habitation was to be seen upon the waste.
May had overheard what passed between her father's man and
her brother, and her mood was sad. The reins had fallen on
her horse's neck, and as he walked with measured tread, she
was absorbed in melancholy musing. She had almost forgotten
where she was, when a rich female voice aroused her attention,
and, as it w^ere, stopped her on the way. It appeared to come
from a thick clump of gorse, brambles and dried fern, an acre
or more in extent. Its owner, unseen, sang as follows :
! why does the Rose of the hamlet stray
On the lonesome verge of the -windy heath ?
Neither fern leaf nor flower is seen by the way,
The sward is as pale as a last summer's wreath.
No note swells the brake where the wild thrush was loud,
No mirth-bearing carol comes up from the lea —
The lark does not sing high above the rain cloud,
No bird sways a bough of the naked ash tree.
The clustering gorse, that was once green and gold,
Is brown as the thatch on the oldest field barn;
No bleat from the flock in the snug haulmy fold.
No cry of the bittern is heard by the tarn.
The earth seemeth dumb, and the sky dark and drear,
No music is borne on the dull laden air ;
But the sad, gentle sigh, and the soft falling tear,
Lead the low, honey voice of the maiden in prayer.
There was a pause ; May Bullfinch thought the concealed
female had finished her song, but she continued with a deeper
voice and more animation :
A horseman armed, of the wild "West land,
Speeds fast as the drift of the screaming gale!
The brown chief will ride at his red right hand;
There are branches s^rewp o^ei hili and dale.
326 TEE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
His pale brow is stern as the night's dun cloud,
His elf locks are flying, his raiment is dank !
What gleams in his eye — fierce, bloodshot, and proud —
"While the rowels are red in the White Horse's flank ?
** Three more shall be slain !" were the words he said,
As he shook to the sky his death-streaming gun,
"Ere the shaft that is loosened hath truthfully sped,
Four lives must perish to answer for one.
I swear by the thunder thou bearest like fate !
By the li'^htning which bursts from thy muzzle so blue!
Four grim, guilty ghosts, through the cold cloudy gate
Shall follow the friend who was tender and true I"
0, Rose of the hamlet ! oh, which thinkest thou,
Were heard by the Father who loves us alway —
The wild, whirling words of the horseman's dark vow,
Or the prayers of the maiden who fainteth to-day ?
The voice died away in a long cadence. May Bullfinch
looked and listened, and had almost resolved to force her
horse through the gorse, when she saw a form in a dark cloak
pass swiftly from one clump to another, already far away in
the direction of the gypsy camp. Unsettled and agitated,
though scarcely alarmed, May touched her horse with the
whip. He struck into a steady hand-gallop, and in half an
hour she was at Sir Jerry Snaffle' s. Her welcome was a warm
one. After some refreshment, Lady Snaffle took her to the
library, and there, seated by the lady's side before the fire,
May opened her heart and told her tale, including the purport
of the song she had heard on the heath. The sympathy and
tact of Lady Snaffle soon restored May's self-possession, and
inspired her with more confidence than she had lately felt.
The former treated her as she might have treated a daughter
or a young sister. She remembered that May had no mother ;
and in close conversation they spent two hours, perhaps more,
very pleasantly. The lady's white, soft hand, with its dimple
and its jewelled rings, was upon May's shoulder, and she was
speaking to her in a coaxing tone, when there came a knock
at the door. Entering at the bidding of his mistress, the foot-
man announced that Parkins, the constable, was below, and
requested an interview with Lady Snaffle, upon very pressing
and particular business. Perhaps it was the knowledge that
this man had been somehow mixed up with Tom Scarlet's
affair, and the possibility that the roving sailors might have
returned and fallen into his charge, that induced the lady.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 327
after a moment's consideration, to grant his request, and
direct the footman to show him into the library in which they
were.
" The man," said she to May Bullfinch, " is a blockhead and
a bore, a pragmatical fellow ; but he is upheld in his office by
the magistracy, some of whom, my dear, are none too wise
themselves. I will learn what he wants, and speedily dismiss
him, after which we will resume our little conference."
Parkins entered rather boldly, but, as if suddenly checked,
he hesitated and made a low bow. He was surprised to see
May Bullfinch there, and was rather disconcerted by finding
Lady Snaffle's eye on him as soon as he was within the room.
His face was redder than usual. It might be the effect of the
wind and weather ; but his nose was of a lively purple, and
that might be the effect of his having taken what he called " a
little summut" several times in the course of the day. As his
eyes were bright but unsteady, and as there was a rapid wink-
ing of the lids nearly all the time, it was probably not the eflTect
of the weather which caused the change in his appearance.
" Now, Mr. Parkins, come forward ! Your business, sir ?
What do you want to state ?" said Lady Snaffle.
" Well, my lady !" replied he, with another profound bow and
a sort of jackdaw look of wisdom, " Sir Jerry being absent, I
made bold, knowing your ladyship's influence with the higher
authorities "
" jS"ever mind the preamble. To the point ! What is it
you want?"
" Your ladyship's influence and orders in a certain cause
wdiich is, I may say, before the authorities, and yet not before
'em — half and half, as a tapster might say."
"And what is it about, sir?"
"About two men that have been took up — took ui>ivrongfulf
my lady. Very few is ever so took up — none that I pulls
myself, although they all pretend to be. This here case, how-
ever, I have investigated, and the men is took up wrongful,
and ought to be discharged."
" And what of that, sir ! I cannot discharge them. I am
not in the commission of the peace," said Lady Snaffle.
" True, my lady ! I wish you was ; for since the Admiral
left, what with Sir Jerry being always so busy with his horses,
328 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
and his hounds, and his matches, and Mr. Jericho being, as his
man says, engaged night and day Avith his history of the anti-
quaries of the primitive church, there is a kind of a vacancy in
the heads of the bench," replied jMr. Parkins.
" That will do, Parkins. You must take the men somewhere
else."
" They a' been took up wrongful," said Parkins.
" I cannot help it, sir."
" These men be from America, my lady."
" Ah !" said Lady Snaffle, while May Bullfinch started.
« And they be sailors, my lady," said Parkins, with much
emphasis.
" Sailors from America ! May, I declare I do not perceive
any harm in seeing them. Parkins, the case is altered," said
Lady Snaffle. "As the Admiral is not here, tell me all about
it. Come to the point and be brief."
" My lady, I will. It's a pleasure to speak to you in a cause,
as if your worship w'as on the bench in earnest. From infor-
mation I received this morning, I goes to Moleskin's lodge in
the woods this forenoon, and finds him and the prisoners, the
sailors from America, took up wrongful. Moleskin says the
men be poachers, and tells me to take 'em' and lock 'em up.
The sailors say they isn't, and tells me to take 'em before Sir
Jerry Snaffle. I tells the sailors that Sir Jerry Snaffle is ab-
sent. ' Then,' says the sailors, ' to prevent being clewed up
fore and aft, we claim the righl and privilege of being taken
before Sir Jerry Snaffle's wife. She's an Admiral's daughter
and knows the ropes."
" My dear," said Lady Snaffle, laughing, " it is just sailor-
like. Parkins, what is the case against them, as alleged by
Moleskin himself?"
" Moleskin, my lady, charges that the men were in the cover
for the purpose of poaching, but the sailors tell another story.
The sailors say, my lady, that coming to London in a ship
from New Orleans, they were intrusted with certain presents,
to wit, a gun and two bottles of rum, very old Jamaica, for
Gypsy Jack, a friend of theirs."
Parkins paused, and the ladies being now greatly interested
and all attention, waited for him to proceed.
" Finding himself in this neighborhood lateish in the evening,
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 399
and hearing that the gyps==y camp was about the middle of the
heath, the saih)r says — that is, the spokesman says — he took
the way through the woods by a short cut, and his gun going
ofi' by accident, Moleskin came up and nailed 'em."
"A trifling, absurd story, Parkins, with nothing to corrobo-
rate it," said Lady Snaffle. " I doubt whether these men are
sailors at all. Have they corkscrew curls all round their
heads?"
" No, my lady. Their heads are as smooth as bullets and
about as hard," said Parkins.
" May, my dear, all the fellows w ith curls, in sailor's clothes,
are impostors, and ought to be sent to the treadmill. My
father always told Sir Jerry so."
" And, my lady, there is something to corroborate what the
sailors say," remarked Mr. Parkins.
"And what may it be, sir?"
"The rum, my lady, and the gun," said Parkins. " There's
one bottle of the old Jamaica left. As one of the authorities,
I tested the spokesman's credibility with the other, and found
it sound and all right. Besides, he's intrusted with a token
and a message to Tom Scarlet, or, in his absence, to his next
friend. That token the sailor refuses to show ; that message
he declines to deliver to me and Moleskin."
" You did right to come here, Parkins. Do you think the
sailor will intrust the token and the message to me ?" said
Lady Snaffle.
" To you and the young lady. Miss May Bullfinch, now
present and occupyiug a seat on the bench, as I may say, he
will, because she is the next friend, by name mentioned and
set forth in the indictment as the party the token and message
are to be delivered to in Tom Scarlet's absence. He'll stand
and deliver, like a true man, will this sailor, if your ladyship
wall influence Moleskin to let him go away without further
trouble."
" I will see Moleskin. I will see the men. Are they here ?"
" They are, my lady. I left them in the hall, eating of
roast beef and mince-pie, drinking your ladyship's health in
ale, and gammoning the gals."
" Parkins, for shame !"
" Well, my lady telling of 'em long-winded stories about
pearls and mermaids, and what not."
330 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
" Go and fetch Moleskin and the sailors here," said Lady
Snaffle. Then she exclaimed to May, " now, my darling, I
feel that we shall hear the truth. The men are real sailors.
Their conduct in the hall among the servant maids proves it.
Now we shall learn the facts."
When the prisoners made their appearance, preceded by
Parkins and followed by the keeper, one of them pushed the
former aside without ceremony and walked up unabashed to
where Lady Snaffle was sitting. May Bullfinch immediately
recognised the sailor Cox and Lady Snaffle did so in a few
moments. His scarred face was flushed, and there was a
marry twinkle in his eye as he made his bow, and stood turn-
ing his glazed hat over in his sinewy hands. The fact was,
that he was about " half slewed," as he would have said him-
self, for besides drinking her ladyship's health often in strong
ale, he had, at the instance of the cook, fortified himself with
half a tumbler of cherry brandy. Moleskin had remon-
strated with the cook against the last, but she replied that
sailors must be treated well in that house. It was Lady Snaf-
fla's express desire. And besides, as she had often heard
Admiral Broadside say to his daughter, " they plough the
raging seas, while the gentlemen of England do live at home
at ease."
The demeanor of Cooper was different. He looked down
upon the carpet, stood at a respectful distance, and seemed
disinclined to face the Admiral's daughter. The man had
been in action and had always done good service in storm
and battle, but he was hardly equal to the present occasion.
Lady Snaffle addressed herself to Cox :
" Young man, I understand you are a sailor — a real sailor?"
" I am, my lady. If your ladyship's father, Admiral Broad-
side, was here at this minute, he would say so. Man before
the mast, and have been for years."
" You are recently from America, are you not ?"
"Just arrived from New Orleans, madam. Anchored in
the Downs last Sunday, and was paid off* in the West India
Docks on Tuesday. Discharge all ship-shape," replied Cox.
" My father was very fond of sailors," said Lady Snaffle,
looking steadily at Cox.
" So I've often heard, my lady. He took such care of good
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 331
ones — men able to do topmau's duty and be captains of the
guns — that -when they was once in the fleet, what with prize
money and strong grog and the bounty afloat, and the press
gang ashore, they could never get out of it again. However,
he was a fine old fighting captain, such as the sailors like."
The other sailor mumbled something, and Lady Snaffle
looked inquiringly at him.
" This is your shipmate?" she said to Cox.
" No, my lady, we only hauled alongside in Loudon. This
man, for all he looks spoony here in this presence, is a man-'o-
w^r's man, and was captain of the foretop in the Racehorse,
double-banked frigate, just paid off* at Spithead. He knows
your ladyship's father, the Admiral, well, he does."
" Bless me ! come forward, my man. So you know my dear
father well ?"
"Yes, my lady. AdmiraL Broadside, Rear- Admiral of the
Blue ; hope to see him Vice- Admiral of the Red before he dies.
So says every good man in the fleet," said Cooper. "He
ought to fly the red flag at the fore !"
" My dear May, this is the genuine sailor, the real man-'o-
war's man. You served under my father?" she added, to
Cooper.
" I'll tell her all," said he to Cox, stepping forward. " Ma-
dam, I was taken to sea out of jail by Admiral Broadside
eighteen years ago, being sentenced to transportation for four-
teen years. I've served the king and the country ever since,
and just came home to see my sister, Rose Tanner. My name
is James Cooper."
" I remember, there were three brothers. Cooper, wait until
I have heard this man. What is your name ?" continued Lady
Snaffle to the other.
" Harry Cox, my lady. Born at Oxford, and was one of
the fancy before I went afloat," he replied.
" The fancy ! what may that be ?"
" The ring, my lady. The lads as follows prize-fighting as
a profession. Have given it up now, and never fight except
somebody wants a licking uncommon bad."
" You are charged with having been in the preserves for
the purpose of poaching. Parkins thinks it is a mistake."
" Parkins is right, Lady Snaffle. It is a mistake on the
part of the keeper, Mr. Moleskin here."
332 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
" Moleskiu," said Lady Snaffle, " ^Yhat do you say to this?
The sailors allege that they entered the preserves merely to
make a short cut. I believe it is often done."
" A good deal too often, my lady," replied Moleskin. " As
to this man Cox, he had a gun."
" A present to Gypsy Jack from America," said Cox.
« He is a sailor. Moleskin, and I do not see how a sailor can
be a poacher," said Lady Snaffle.
"Pheasants on him, my lady," replied Moleskin, without
any change of feature. " As for the other, I believe Cox led
him into it. Cox had the gun and shot the pheasants."
" Only two old cocks," said the sailor to Moleskin, in a
surly, reproachful sort of tone. Then turning to Lady Snaffle
again he said, " My lady, I know you are a sailor's friend, and
I'll tell you all about it — from end to end, right off the reel,
and never a kink. I was in the preserve just about sundown
four bells in the dog-watch. Your ladyship knows what time
that is, though the keeper and the constable are so ignorant
that they don't. I had a gun, but it was a present sent to
Gypsy jack by a planter of the Arkansas bottoms named
Langlois. I had two old cock pheasants, and they are the
rocks ahead. Cock pheasants do more harm than good in
the spring of the year, there being too many of them. But
we'll slip that, and bear away. This is the real truth — born
in these parts, and being fond of all sorts of sport, when I
made out those pheasants, perched in a larch tree, I was bound
to try the gun. My lady, I couldn't help it ! I may be sent
to jail, but I can do better service out of jail ; and as you are
an Admiral's daughter, I hope you'll tell Moleskin to let me
clear for the salt water again. Cooper had nothing to do
■with it."
" Just so ! being took up wrongful," said Parkins.
Lady Snaffle held a short conference with Moleskin, and the
latter departed, taking Parkins with him, much against that
dignitary's will. When they were gone, Lady Snaffle said, " I
have procured your release. I am now about to request some-
thing in return of you. Cox— merely information. I am in-
formed by this young lady— that is, by her father, through
her — that you have some knowledge of Tom Scarlet."
" I have, my lady. I sailed in the same vessel that took
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 333
him out to America — clipper brig, belonging to Baltimore,
where he aud I parted, after I had introduced him to a good
mau."
" Who was that man ?"
" A gentleman by the name of Sassafras — Western man."
"An Indian?" said Lady Snaffle.
" Thundering guns, my lady, no ! As white as you — no,
not as white as you, but as white as I be !"
" Have you seen Tom Scarlet since you introduced him to
the man you mentioned — Sassy "
" Sassafras, my lady. No, I have not. My chief business
here was to see him. I hear he has not yet returned from the
other side. In that case I was to deliver what I brought to
Miss May Bullfinch, and I shall be glad to do it in your lady-
ship's presence."
With this the sailor placed hisiiat on the floor, and, drawing
a knife from some part of his clothing, he ripped open the in-
side of his monkey-jacket and produced a small ornament,
the head of a red horse, curiously carved out of a piece of
stone. He held it up before the ladies on the palm of his
hand, saying :
" As Tom Scarlet is not here yet, Miss Bullfinch is to take
charge of this, and deliver it to him when he comes."
May whispered to Lady Snaffle, and the latter said :
" Tliere was a rumor here that Mr. Scarlet was killed."
" So there was at Orleans, but I don't believe it. In fiict, I
know it wasn't true. He's all right, and will very soon be
alongside of this young lady," said t\\Q sailor.
" Who sent the ornament you hold in your hand ?"
" A friend of Tom Scarlet's, my lady. Cinnamon, by name,
usually," replied Cox.
" Usually ! Do you mean to say that he goes by more than
one name ? Who and what is he ?"
" He's a Western man — large landowner, my lady. Hun-
dreds of thousands of acres. Named after one of their produc-
tions."
" Does his land grow spice, then ?"
*• Why, no, my lady ! I believe it chiefly produces bears
and buffaloes ; but I have never been on it."
"Cox," said Lady Snaffle, sharply, "I believe you are
speaking of an Indian — a wild Indian !"
334 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
" I am, my lady. A chief — a very great chief ! Friend of
Sassafras and friend of Tom Scarlet. Called Cinnamon be-
cause when he was a papoose he had for his playfellow a cin-
namon bear. He sent the totem."
" He sent the totem !"
" Yes, my lady. The totem of his tribe, the Cheyennes,
for Tom Scarlet, signifying that Tom is adopted into his tribe,
and that if any man injures him Cinnamon will have that
man's scalp or know the reason why. It would have been
given to Mr. Scarlet before he left the West, but certain cere-
monies had to be performed, and it was sent afterwards to New
Orleans, to me, through the agent of Langlois, who was in
that country with Tom."
" We are very anxious about Mr. Scarlet. Do you know
nothing more. Cox ?" said Lady Snaffle.
" I know he's all right, my lady, for two reasons. One is
that Sassafras had him in tow, and wouldn't let him come to
harm. He'd take desperate chances sooner than see him in-
jured. The other is, that if Tom had been clewed up, killed
out there, instead of sending the Cheyenne totem to Tom as a
live man, and one of his own tribe. Cinnamon would have sent
the scalps of them as done it, as a satisfaction to this young
lady and his other friends about here. He was no more killed
in that country than I was, who was never there, though there
was a scrimmage and one or two were killed. He has been
detained by head winds. It hung in the east for a fortnight,
as it often does about the chops of the Channel in the spring.
It is now west-nor'west, and you may look for him every tide."
" We thank you. Cox," said Lady Snaffle.
" It's all right, my lady— all right. Miss Bullfinch ! With
this wind upon the larboard quarter they would make up the
leeway very fast, and Mr. Scarlet will soon be a-riding all
snug in harbor at your apron-string!"
" My dear," said Lady Snaffle to the blushing May, " the
man is a sailor. What he says is just like a sailor. It was
said, also, that Miriam Cotswold was carried off* by Indians."
" My lady. Cooper can contradict that. Speak up, Jim,"
said Cox.
" If your ladyship pleases, I can contradict that. In coming
from the Islands to Halifax we looked into New York bay for
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 335
two or three days. While the frigate lay off the Battery she
was boarded by a young woman and a man, and the word was
passed for me. The young woman said she was my cousin,
Miriam Cotswold."
'•'And the man — was he of florid complexion, with auburn
"whiskers ?"
" No, madam. He was nearly as dark as I am, and his face
was as smooth as mine. It was the man Cox named, vSassafras.
They said they were bound to England. And they ought to
have been in port before now."
CHAPTER XXXV.
"He looked over fell, and he looked over flat,
But nothing, I wist, he saw,
Save a pyot on a turret that sat
Beside a corby craw.
" The page he looked at the skrieh of day.
But nothing, I wist, he saw,
'Till a horseman gray in the royal array,
Rode down the hazel shaw."
YOUNG BULLFINCH had taken dinner and dressed him-
self in his best suit rather earlier than was necessary, in
order thart he might set out on his ride to the Hall as soon as he
could reasonably convince himself that he would not arrive
before Lady Snaffle and his sister would expect him. " It is
rather too soon to start, but I can go a foot-pace," said he, as
he surveyed himself with some satisfaction in the pier-glass
over the mantlepiece in the parlor. There was a titter at the
door, and Jack saw, with a blush, that the housemaid was
looking at him. He wheeled quickly around and faced the
girl.
" Well, you be, and everybody knows it," said she, with a
laugh.
" Be what ?" said Jack sharply.
" AVhy, handsome, that you be ! for a boy," she replied.
" But, Master Jack, Tom told me to tell you that the gypsy,
Rose, is coming along the lea at a great pace, and he thinks
she wants to see you."
336 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
He met the gypsy in the orchard. She was evidently excited
and out of breath, but declining to go into the house, she laid
her hand on his arm and said :
" Now, Young Squire, now's the time ! mount and ride fit to
split the wind! He's come and the others can't be far off!"
"Your brother is come, Rose! Well, I'm sure I'm very
glad ; but you see I must go over to Sir Jerry Snaffle's first.
I'm pledged to it."
"Ah, I knew that would be the way you would keep your
word. But never mind ; he's there himself before this time,
so order out your horse, and don't spare him."
" Do you mean that your brother is at the Hall, Rose ?"
" I do, and in custody. He fell in with that roving rascal
Cox in London, and when they came down on the coach yes-
terday that fellow allured him into the covers at nightfall, and
there they are, pulled for poaching by Moleskin and Parkins.
I wish that Cox had been drowned before he led my Jim into
this, but no such luck — ' born to be hanged,' you know, as the
old saying goes. Order out your horse. You can get Jim off.
I know you can, you and your sister May. If you don't get
him off "
"Oh, I'll get him off if I can. Rose. And I think I can,
but not by riding straight to the Hall. Tom, saddle Young
Cowslip," he shouted, over his shoulder. " Rose, the hounds
threw off at Strattou. I'll bet a guinea that I can hit the line
of the hunt somewhere or another, and come up with Lord
Doomsday."
" And what the d — 1 good will that do?" said Rose.
" Why, his influence is immense, and he'll do anything for
me," said Jack, stoutly.
" That for his influence !" said the gypsy, snapping her fin-
ger and thumb. "You boys and men are so stupid. Don't
you see that Lady Snaffle has got more influence with Sir
Jerry, and good reason, when she chooses to use it, than all the
lords in England. Sir Jerry will hold the examination when
he reaches home from his hunting. Get there first — I say, get
there first ! And let Lady Snaffle know the rights of it before
the baronet arrives. Mind and let her know that Jim's a
great favorite with the Admiral — served under him, and all
that. That'll go a great way."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOX. 337
" By George, Rose, I believe you are right !"
" I know I am," said the gypsy. " Besides, at the Hall you
can see Moleskin. He thinks more of your father and of May
and you than of all the other folks in Ridingcumstoke. If his
evidence is light, they'll get oil' with a fine, provided the lady
favors 'em and there's been a good run to-day
" Oh, there's always a good run when they meet at Stratton,
Rose. But what has that to do with it ?"
" Do with it ! why, if there's been no run, Sir Jerry will be
in one of his tempers, and Lady Snaffle will not interfere until
Jim is committed. Then it will be too late."
" Yes, that's true ; but there has been a good run. I'll lay
anybody ten to one on it," said the lad. " Why, Rose, the
men who stopped the earths in the copses and gorses about
there last night passed here at daylight. I gave them a pint
apiece, and asked them what the prospect was for foxes, and
they said : ' Young master, the covers be full on 'em.' So you
see that's all right. Now, here's my mare. I suppose you are
for the Hall, too?"
" No, I can't go — not even to see Jim. I've promised to
meet a man at a certain place — the Grange — and I must keep
the tryst. I must keep it."
" Who is the man ?" said Young Jack.
" One you never saw, but you will soon. Mount and ride !
Let nothing stop you !"
His hand was twined in the mane of the mare, but he
paused and said : " Rose, how about the twins, while you're
going here and there ?"
" They're all right. My eldest gal watches 'em, and Jenny
gives 'em suck. You'll see me again to-morrow," said the
gypsy, waving her hand and walking away with long strides.
" She's a rum 'un — a reg'lar rum 'un, she is !" said Tom, as
his young master mounted ; " and if I was you I'd keep a
good lookout, coming home with Miss May after dusk."
" Oh, you don't understand Rose. I do," replied the lad, as
he rode through the orchard gate into an adjoining field.
The weather was still gloomy. A thin rain, cold and prick-
ing to the skin, was falling slantwise from the low-flying drift,
when young Bullfinch rode through the lanes and over that
portion of the heath which his sister had passed earlier in the
22
3o8 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
day. The lad had a horseman's coat on over his best clothes,
and cared nothing for rain or wind. He galloped on, some-
times whistling cheerily, and sometimes humming a verse of
some ditty popular in the country side, and celebrating fox-
hunting. Jack had nearly crossed the heath and was nearing
the woodland which lay beyond and bounded it, when he saw
a dark form moving stealthily among the bushes to his left.
It was that of a person flitting from one bunch of gorse to
another, and apparently trying to elude his observation. The
lad was bold and fearless, but he knew that suspicious char-
acters sometimes lurked about the neighborhood of the heath,
and at first he thought of riding on. He had, however, a
desire to know who it could be that was endeavoring to steal
away like a fox from cover, and determined to give pursuit.
He felt certain that the person was no gypsy, for he was known
to all the band, and there was no reason why any of them
should avoid him. Whoever it was, he now lost sight of the
figure for a moment, in a hollow where the gorse was thick
and high, but saw it make a dash up the slope beyond, and
quicken the pace. Pulling out of the road, he put the mare
to a smart gallop over the wet sod and through the gorse.
The other party seemed resolved to foil the chase, and turning
round with a quick double, made for the woodland with swift,
sure foot. The fence was at no great distance, and before the
youth could come up the pursued reached it, climbed a gate,
and disappeared on the other side. The lad saw by the long
garments, as the person mounted the gate, that it was a woman.
«' Well !" said Young Jack, " I will see who this quean is, now."
He touched Young Cowslip with the spur, and riding at the
hedge, went crashing through the top of it into the cover.
The woman, blown by her sharp run, and believing that he
would not follow, had stopped to draw breath near the edge
of the wood, and stood leaning against an ash-tree, as Jack
and the mare came driving through the fence. Utteriug an
exclamation, she darted away again at speed, and plunged like
a deer into the underbrush. But she was at a disadvantage,
for the ground was boggy, and she was compelled to take to
the open ride again. The lad soon came up with her, and
flourishing his whip, he cried, " Stop ! you can't get away from
me! Who is it?"
TEE WEITE EOESE OF WOOTTOK 339
"Lord, Master Bullfinch! who should it be?" said the
"woman, stopping and turning about.
" Miriam ! heart alive ! Is this you ? Why did you run
away from me f You surely knew me !"
" Knew you ? yes. Run away ! good lack ! "What for,
indeed !" said she, panting. " I knew you were going for your
sister ; and as the night will grow on apace, by and by, you
have no time to lose. Ride on, Master Bullfinch. Good-day.''
" Is this all ?" said Young Jack, looking at her with some
surprise. " Come, we must have a little speech together."
There was a change in the appearance of the gypsy since
he saw her last. She looked older — less the girl, and more
the young woman ; less wild and frolicsome, though there was
a smile upon her lip and a merry twinkle in her bright black
eye. A warm flush, from her recent rapid running, shone in
her nut-brown cheek. She was not dressed as the gypsy women
and girls commonly are, but wore a gown and cloak of dark
merino, while a hood of velvet, trimmed with fur, covered her
glossy black hair. She stood before the lad as if undecided
what to say or do ; seemed anxious to be rid of him, and yet
could scarcely control an inclination to laugh.
" And so you're back among us again, Miriam," said Young
Jack. " I'm glad to see you — very glad !"
" Thank you ! I thought you would be. But time wears.
Master Bullfinch, and you had better ride on. You can talk
to me another time, you know."
" Ay, but I want you to talk to me now. You have been
away nearly a year. Tom Scarlet has been gone as long, and
I want to hear all about it. He has been reported dead, and
Lady Snafile and May will want to know what you say to
that."
" Master Bullfinch," said the gypsy, with her dark, bright
eye full and intent upon him, " I think you had better not
mention to them that you have seen me. My presence here
is not known to any one except our people and one or two
others, and there are good reasons why it should not be for a
few days. So oblige me, and say nothing about it."
" Miriam," replied the boy, " it can't be done. There's too
much mystery going on — too much in-and-cfut running. Tell
me where Tom Scarlet is. Is he come back too ? . That's the
question,"
340 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
" Bless us, Master Bullfinch ! you talk as if his coming and
going depended on me. You didn't expect me to bring him
back, did you?"
The gypsy moved tosvards the road, and Jack walked his
horse by her side. They approached the beaten way, and he
said, " Come, Miriam, no more of this winding about a hollow
bush, and crying a holloa -when there's neither fox nor har
What do you know about Tom Scarlet ?"
"I know he's a fine young man — worthy of your sister — and
that is a great deal to say," replied Miriam.
" Yes ; but where is he now, when he ought to be here ?"
" On his way home, no doubt. I hear he is expected every
day. You may tell your sister I said so, if you mention having
met with me at all, which you had better not do."
" I can't help mentioning that, lass. I wouldn't keep it
secret for anything. May's my sister, and Lady Snaffle always
behaves very handsomely to me."
" Ah !" replied the gypsy, " see what it is to have to do with
a boy instead of with men. I'll warrant, now, that if Sir Jerry
and your father had seen me here, and heard me say what I
have said to you, they wouldn't mention it to her ladyship and
your sister. But you want to be at the ladies' apron-strings,
telling them some nice gossip. Good-day, Master Bullfinch ;
ride on."
Young Jack was nettled at this, and not the less so as the
gypsy laughed at the angry expression of his face. " Very
well," said he ; " You want to put me off! I won't be put off.
You shall give me some news of Tom Scarlet before you are
out of my sight. I'll follow you till dark, and then again till
daylight, but what I'll have it. You shall see whether I can't
stay away from the ladies' apron-strings."
" Master Bullfinch," said she, " don't be so put out with an
old acquaintance because of a jest. One of the greatest pleas-
ures I looked for when I came back here was meeting you
again, and seeing your sister, May, well ar;d happy. At present
I cannot say more. Shake hands, aud ride on. I can stay
here no longer. I expect a man to pass, and he must not find
us here, holding conference in the shadow of the wood."
" Your uncle !" said Young Jack, extending his hand. " I
can make it all right with him in two minutes."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 341
« Kot my uncle," she replied, shaking his hand. " Another
man."
" What man ? Who is he ? Miriam let us have no more
mystery."
" Well, I can't give his hame. I promised not to give it
for a few days. He's a man from America."
" It's Tom' himself!" cried Young Jack. " Miriam, I know
it is."
" Master Jack, it is not," said she, earnestly. " 'Tis a man
you never saw in your life, for he never was in this country
ijefore. If you meet him on the road, as I think you will do,
you'll see a man different in looks and ways from folks about
here. Something like our people on the moors and heaths in
some points, but still no gypsy. A man rough and ready, but
as true as steel. You need not be afraid of him if he stops
you on the road."
" Me afraid ! I'll wait with you till he comes."
" No, no ! Hide on, and make speed. I'll see you again
ere long, and tell you more. Perhaps news of Tom Scarlet.
Touch spur. Young Jack, and away !"
" By George, Miriam, you speak like yourself again. And
you think Tom is all right?"
" Yes, I hope and believe he is," she replied, walking off a
few steps.
" One word more. How about Jagger ? Is he come back ?"
"Jagger! Oh, Master Bullfinch, he is dead ! He died as
the fool dieth. He was killed when Tom "
" When Tom what ? And who killed Jagger ?"
" A man in America. Good-by."
With this the girl drew her cloak about her, turned back,
and hurried away deeper into the wood. Young Jack looked
after her for a moment. He then gained the highway, and
rode on at a strong gallop.
He had not gone above half a mile when another horseman
approached at speed equal to his own. The man wore a blue
coat of pilot cloth, buttoned up to the chin. His face was
dark, his eye bright and keen as that of a hawk, and locks of
black hair appeared under the rim of his low-crowned glazed
hat. He sat his horse with the ease and power of one who had
been accustomed to riding from early youth. As they neared
342 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
each other the man and the boy checked the speed of their
horses, and after a good look, pulled up together in the middle
of the road.
The man spoke first. His eye seemed to be all over the lad
and his horse in an instant, and he said, in a clear voice and
prompt manner :
" You seem to be in a hurry, j^oung gentleman. You ride
fast."
" No faster than you," replied the lad, with some undefina-
ble feeling of uneasiness at finding himself face to face in the
lonely road with this man.
" Well, considering that I hardly know my road, I was
going pretty fast, I allow," said the stranger. " But where
may you be going to at a gallop ? Anybody sick ?"
" No, sir, nobody sick. I am going to Sir Jerry Snaffle's,"
replied the youth, with some assumption of dignity, and a
movement as if he could brook no more delay.
" Hold on ! I shan't detain you more than a minute. Sir
Jerry Snaffle! It seems to me that I have heard of him."
" I should think you have," said the youth, with a shade
of emphasis which the stranger marked, but did not notice in
reply. Indeed, he changed the topic, saying :
" That's a nice young mare you're on. What's her name ?"
" Cowslip," said Young Jack, somewhat surprised at the free
and easy way of the stranger, in thus putting to him the
question ; " Young Cowslip."
" O ! then old Cowslip's at home ? Dam of this mare, no
doubt?"
" No, sister of this mare, and not old, either. Neither is
she at home, for father has her out hunting."
" Ay, ay ! hold on a bit. I want you to tell me my road in
a minute."
With this the stranger produced a flint and a dangerous-
looking knife, and striking fire on some very combustible sub-
stance, lit a cigar.
"I reckon your name is Bullfinch, young sir?"
" That is my name," replied the youth. " What is yours?"
" Well, that is nothing to the purpose," said the stranger.
" You live in these parts, and your name is naturally of inter-
est to a stranger to these parts. I don't live here, and so my
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 343
name is nothiDg to you, don't you see ! Bullfinch is a good
name — a very good name. I hope your father and sister are
well. By the by, I suppose you left your sister at home ?"
" No, I didn't. She is at Sir Jerry Snaffle's. I am going
there to see her home, and must not delay any more."
" Hold on ! hold on another minute ! you have not told me
the road. No doubt you can show me which is the way to a
place called the Grange."
" The Grange ! why, that is Tom Scarlet's place."
" So I've heard ! What of it ?" said the stranger, coolly.
" He's ray friend ! My father's friend ! My sister's very
dear friend ! You bring news of him, I hope. You come from
America."
" I never told you so, my lad."
" No matter ! I know you do. Now tell me news — do tell
me good news of him," said Young Jack, earnestly.
"Good news! Well, I have heard that he may be here
soon. That is what they say. It may not be good news to
some. I've heard that there are people who do not like him
in these parts. What do you say to that ?"
" I say everybody likes him that is of any consideration.
You should hear my father relate what Sir Jerry said about
him at the hunt dinner, when it was reported that he had been
killed in America."
"Ah! they reported he was killed. Well, if he wasn't it
was a miracle, for he was shot in the head and went down into
the rapids of the Neosho. If he lived after that he's the only
man that ever did."
Young Jack's countenance fell. He looked at the stranger,
but there was no sign of emotion in the dark, strong-cut face
of the man who sat in the saddle and smoked the segar which
diffused a fragrance all around.
" It may be a mistake ! It may have been another man,"
said Jack.
" Englishmen are not plenty out there in the Indian coun-
try," replied the stranger.
" It may have been another," said Jack. " There was one
Jagger. Do you remember such a person about thd-e ?"
" I ought to. I killed him," said the stranger with much
indifference, " but he was not the man who went down the
344 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
rapids. That was Scarlet. After all, it is but a man gone,
and no doubt there are plenty better left about here."
" There are none — not one better — not one as good. Poor,
poor Tom ! Oh, what shall I say or do ?" cried the lad, with
a quivering lip and a very sad expression of face.
" Why, if I was you I would say nothing at present. Mind,
I don't aver that he is dead. He may be alive, and come for-
ward when least expected."
" Ah ! if he does everybody will be so rejoiced."
" Everybody ! why don't you know that the backers of the
Duke, in this great steeple-chase match I hear about, would as
soon see the devil as Tom Scarlet in the saddle."
" No !" replied Young Jack. " The Duke himself likes
Tom, and would sooner lose the match than be convinced of
his death."
" Very well ! I hope the Duke will lose it. I shall lay
against him if I happen to be there. Sir Jerry wil] have the
best horse and the best rider, and by all accounts he's the best
man of the two. AVhich is my road ?"
" Straight on till you come to the heath. You'll see the
glow of the fires at the gypsy camp to the right. The people
there will tell you the way from that point. You needn't be
afraid of the gypsies. You will not be, I think."
" I think not," said the stranger, with a smile. " You are
a likely lad ! Give my regards to your father, and my re-
spects, my very particular respects, to your sister. Good-by,
Master Bullfinch. I shall see you again."
"But I cannot tell my father and sister who you are. I
don't know your name," said Jack.
"True, I had forgotten that. You can say a man from
America. And you may add that, in spite of all that has
happened, Tom Scarlet may be all right, and turn up when
least expected. It's true he was shot, but I have been shot
three or four times myself, and here I am alive and merry.
He also went down the rapids, and it had such an ugly look,
that at one time I gave him up as gone, past all hope. But
there is a man out there, well known he is to me, who went
down through a canyon of the Colorado, and that's worse. So
he may be alive. There's always hope about a man thought
to be dead, until the body has been found. Good-by, Master
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK. 345
Bullfinch ! Good-by, Young Jack ! Take care of Young
Cowslip, Jack, and do all you can to cheer up your sister.
We shall soon meet again." •
With this the stranger struck his horse with the whip, and
dashed away. Young Jack looked after him until he dis-
appeared, and then said, " For a man who has killed another
or two, not in war time, and has been shot three or four times
himself, this is the coolest person I ever heard of. After all,
I have hopes of Tom. Miriam said this man was true as steel,
and there was something in his manner that meant more than
he said. I noticed how he looked up and smiled whenever he
mentioned May. It made his face look pleasant. He does
not seem to be a bad fellow. I'm glad I didn't mention Miriam
to him, for a glint came into his eye at times like the light
from that of a cat in the dark. There's no telling how he
would have taken it, if I had told him I chased and pounded
her. What will Lady Snaffle and INIay say to all this ?"
CHAPTER XXXVI.
A SHARP gallop of twenty minutes brought young Bull-
finch to the Hall, where he proposed to see Moleskin
before he presented himself to Lady Snaffle. But before he
could make any inquiry as to the keeper and his prisoners, a
footman announced to him that Lady Snaffle wished to see
him in the library. Thither he went, and the lady of the
house, receiving him graciously, desired him to take a seat.
Young Jack would have postponed the interview^ for a short
time if he could have found a plausible excuse for doing so,
but none occurred to him at the moment, and Lady Snaffle
said :
" Master Bullfinch, we have had quite an adventure since
your sister's arrival. Moleskin and the constable came here,
bringing two prisoners — sailors from America."
" O, yes, my lady. I heard of it from Rose Tanner. She
came to Hawk'ell in a great to-do about her brother, who was
led into it by Cox. She says she wishes Cox had been drowned
before he got her brother into that trouble, but there was no
346 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
such luck, because he was born to be hanged. If your lady-
ship pleases, I should like to see Moleskiu for a few minutes
before Sir Jerry arrives to hold the examination of the men."
" Master Bullfinch, Moleskin is gone, and the men are gone,
too."
" Not to prison, I hope — I do hope not to jail," said Jack,
with alarm. " Much depends upon Rose and her brother, and
perhaps on Cox."
" Why, your sister and I had no power to commit them,"
said Lady Snaffle, " so we discharged them — set them at lib-
erty. At least, we procured their discharge."
" Thank you. Lady Snaffle ! Rose said you could do it,"
said the lad, with much animation. " Yet I should have been
glad if I could have seen Cooper before he left here. I think
he could have helped us at this pinch in regard to the safety
and present whereabouts of Tom Scarlet ; for Rose said that
when he arrived she should know something without the
trouble of consulting the stars. Here he would have told all
that he knows ; for Rose says his gratitude to the Admiral
and his respect for all the family are very great."
"Master Jack, he has told us all he knows," said Lady
Snaffle. She then related the incidents which had occurred,
and repeated what Cox and Cooper had said.
" Please, madam," said Young Jack, " I want to see the
totem. May, show me the totem. Ah ! the head of a red
horse ! My lady, that's significant. I have had an adventure
myself on the road here, and have seen two other persons from
America."
" Indeed ! Who were they. Master Bullfinch?"
" The first, my lady, was Miriam Cotswold."
" Oh, dear !" said May. " Then she has got back ?"
" Go on, sir. AVliat did she say in regard to her adventures,
and to others ?" said Lady Snaffle.
" Very little indeed, my lady. She tried to avoid me ; but
I ran her down, as I may say, being well mounted. Then she
was mysterious, and wanted to get rid of me, telling me not to
mention to you and May that I had seen her, as she wanted to
be secret for a very short time. But that, of course, was out
of the question. Then she became very friendly — said she had
come back mainly to have the pleasure of meeting me and
seeing May hai)py as the day is long."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 347
" My dear May," said Lady Snaffle, " is this gypsy an artful,
treacherous person — one likely to have adopted these profes-
sions as a means of deceiving your brother and blinding us ?"
" Dear lady, I think not," said May, after a moment's con-
sideration. " She was always thought frank and bold, rather
than crafty and treacherous. But the habits and nature of
those people lead them to deal in mystery and roundabout
ways. Miriam will do no harm. She was often brought to
our house by her mother, before she lost her, and before I and
my brother lost our dear mother."
" May, you are right. I know you are. I am sure Miriam
is friendly to us," said Young Jack.
" Perhaps so — I hope so," said Lady Snaffle. " But what
else did she say ?"
" My lady, I do not judge so much by tohat she said as by
her voice and the look of her eye when she said it. She said
she hoped Tom would soon be here — that she was satisfied he
would."
"And what else?"
" That Jagger was dead — killed in America."
" Jagger ! \Yho is Jagger ?"
" The man who ran away with the White Horse and her
uncle's money, besides a great deal more," said Jack.
" What more said she, and where was she going ?"
" She was going to the camp on the heath, and she told
nothing more," replied Jack. " I pressed her hard, but she
said she couldn't — she was under a promise. Xow, Rose said
she was under a promise, too, my lady ; and I think I know
the man to whom their promises are given. If Rose's brother
was here now he would tell your ladyship what these promises
are about, if your ladyship commanded him to do so ; for, as
Hose says, ' he honors the Admiral, and obeys orders.' "
" I, however, should hardly be able to compel his obedience,"
said Lady Snaffle.
" Oh, yes, your ladyship would, for he has been in men-of-
war for the last eighteen years, and in Admiral Broadside's
absence he would consider your ladyship as in command.
Besides, my lady, he has been away from the gypsies long
enough to have dropped their mystery and in-and-out running
methods of dealing. As it is, I must look up Rose early in
the morning, and with her and the twins I shall find Cooper."
348 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
" And to whom are the gypsy women under promise, Master
Bullfinch ?" said Lady Snaffle.
" To the man that I met shortly after I parted from Miriam,
my lady. She said I should probably meet a man on the road,
and I did. He was a sinewy, strong man — well mounted and
a capital horseman, as I could see at a glance."
" Who was he ? Let us know that first. Tell me directly,
Master Jack. Was it not Tom Scarlet ?" said Lady Snaffle,
impetuously.
" Bless me, my lady ! no. 'Twas a stranger to these parts —
a man from America."
" What man from America — this makes three in twenty-
four hours or less ?"
" Oh, Lady Snaffle, the man who killed Jagger. He told
me that he was."
"What! he killed a person, and avows it? May, my
dear, you must not think of going home to-night, with this
fearful man on the road."
" If your ladyship pleases, there will be no danger at all ;
I shall be with May," said Jack. " And I think this man
may be a very good man, though he did kill Jagger. People
say that your ladyship's father has killed some hundreds in
his time."
" Master Bullfinch, I desire you not to compare this blood-
thirsty man from America to my father. He was an officer
in the fleet, a captain under Nelson. It was in the course of
war and duty, and those they killed were Frenchmen and
Spaniards !"
" Jagger was a rogue," said Young Jack, and then added
hastily : " But please forgive me, my lady. I only meant that
the man might not be so very bad after all. I'm sure I hope
not."
" You are a good, brave boy, Master Jack. But, my dear
May, I do not like it. The killing a man, not in battle, and
then announcing it off-hand to a strange youth, is dreadl'ul.
You must not go home ; at least not until Sir Jerry comes."
" Please, my lady, I am sure we need fear nothing at the
hands of this man from America. He had heard of Sir Jerry.
He spoke highly of my father. He sent his respectful regards
— his particular regards to May. He praised me and Young
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 349
Cowslip ; and he said I should see him again. And Miriam
Cotswoid said before I met him that he was rough and ready,
but as true as steel."
" Did he say anything of Tom Scarlet ?"
"Yes, madam, that he heard he would soon be home,"
replied Jack, with some hesitation and confusion.
" Master Bullfinch, tell me all he said about Mr. Scarlet."
" 0, my lady ! O, my dear sister May ! Tom was shot in the
head, and fell into the river above the rapids, and the peril
was fearful. But the man says he knows one in America who
went down a cauyon of the Colorado, yet is alive at this day,
and Tom may have escaped. And, my lady — May, my dear
sister — I know he escaped. I feel certain that he did, and he
will soon be here."
" How do you reach such positive belief?" said Lady Snaffle.
" My lady, I reach it because this man knows all about the
steeple-chase match, and because he said that he would bet
against the Duke, for that Sir Jerry would have the best horse
aod the best rider, and was the best man of the two."
"Then I do not believe him," said Lady Snaffle, hastily.
" I mean, my dear May and Jack, about the bet and the horse
and rider," she added, with a smile.
" Dear Lady Snaffle," said May, with a confiding look, " can
you not guess who this man is ? The sailor Cox spoke of one
in America who was Mr. Scarlet's fast friend, and would take
desperate chances for him."
" The Indian, my dear?"
" Oh, no, dear lady ; the white man, Sassafras."
"My dear May, I think you are right. The man your
brother has met is Sassafras, and Scarlet cannot be far off".
When you spoke, I thought of the Indian — what is his name,
Nutmeg, Allspice, Cloves — what was it ?"
" Cinnamon."
" So it was. Now, I shall have much to tell Sir Jerry, and
you and Jack will have much to tell your father — the sailor
Cox, and his statement, and the story he told of the Indian,
and the delivery of the totem. The boarding of the ship of
war, according to Cooper, by Miriam Cotswoid and Sassafras ;
the meeting of Master Jack with Miriam, and what she said ;
and what Rose Tanner, the gypsy with the twins, said ; the
850 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON,
meeting of your brother and Sassafras, and what the man from
America said — oh! it will be a charming narrative," said Lady
Snaffle. " There is one thing, however, my dear, that rather
perplexes me. Men are so matter-of-fact and incredulous.
Sir Jerry will call for the production of the sailors, the gyp-
sies and Sassafras, in order that they may be required to pro-
duce Tom Scarlet. Master Bullfinch, do you think you can
produce these parties at short notice ?"
" My lady, I can do almost anything in reason," replied
Jack, " and I think I can do this, when Sassafras is willing.
My belief is that I know where the sailors, Miriam, Rose Tan-
ner and Sassafras are now, this very minute."
" Where, Master Jack ?"
" At the Grange, my lady. Or at the camp not far from
the Grange."
" Then Tom Scarlet must be with them."
" I doubt it, Lady Snaffle," said Young Jack. " Please, my
lady, these four have just come from America, like birds of
passage, and settled down here like — like plovers we'll say,
though it's too soon for them yet. Now, my lady, if you
please, they may have good reasons for keeping Tom aw^ay for
the present."
" Sir Jerry will insist that they produce him."
" Oh, my lady, I think not. Suppose what they do is part
of a well-planned and beautiful ' plant ' in regard to the great
match. Madam, besides the stakes, two thousand guineas, the
honor of our hunt, and of all this side of the county is in-
volved. Oh, my lady, depend upon it that Tom and Sassafras
have concocted a beautiful scheme and ' plant,' by means of
which to win the great match. I'm sure Sir Jerry wdll never
be the man to defeat such a thing."
" Right, young Bullfinch !" exclaimed Sir Jerry Snaffle, as
he came forward. He had entered unannounced, and with
him there was a much younger gentleman. They were in the
uniform of the hunt. Lord Doomsday appeared to be rather
confused as he bowed low to Lady Snaffle and to Miss Bull-
finch. "You see, my lady, I have been able to prevail upon
Lord Doomsday to come and take a family dinner with us.
If Miss Bullfinch and her brother will stay we shall be a nice
family party."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOX. 351
_" I am delighted to see his lordship," said Lady Snaffle.
*'You know our young friends, my lord. I have heard the
history of the great run with the Fringford Gorse fox, from
Master Bullfinch, and my goddaughter, May, has told me of
the enjoyment you have afibrded her father."
" I think the greater part of the enjoyment was mine. Lady
Snaffle. I have had the pleasure, the great pleasure, of meet-
in o- IMiss Bullfinch and her brother at their father's house sev-
eral times," said the young man, frankly.
" ^lay, you will stay, will you not ?"
"Oh, no, my lady, we cannot. My father will expect us,
and he would be lonely," said May.
Lady Snaffle knew that when May said anything positively,
it was of little use to try to change her determination. She,
therefore, recounted briefly and rapidly to Sir Jerry all the
events of the day. The baronet listened with much interest,
and so did Lord Doomsday. When the lady had finished her
narrative, the former said, " I wish the sailors had been de-
tained until I came home — not that I would have them pun-
ished, but with them in custody we should have some sort of
hold upon the women and the American. It is clear that
some of them, certainly the American, and the girl, Miriam,
and perhaps Rose Tanner, know all about Tom Scarlet, and it
concerns me to know it, too, and that very soon."
" Surely, as a magistrate, chairman of the bench, you can
make them give information, Sir Jerry," said Lady Snaffle.
" Why, I could have done so, but you have let the means
go. The sailors cannot be arrested again. The women have
done nothing, that I know of, except held interviews with our
young friend, Master Jack. Neither has the American."
" Sir Jerry, I'm surprised ! The American, by his own con-
fession — nay, his cool avowal — has killed a man, and surely
he can be taken up?"
" Not at all, my dear. I have no jurisdiction. Ask Dooms-
day."
«' Then how are we to find where ^Ir. Scarlet is ?"
" I wish I knew how. We cannot well send the bellman
round to cry a reward for him."
" Sir Jerry, you are too absurd. I wish my father was here.
He would soon make them produce him."
352 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
" Laura, I know what your father would do. He would
very sooa get out of the man-of-\var's-man all that he knows,
which is very little, for, according to his own account, he never
saw Tom Scarlet, and did not know Miriam when she boarded
his ship with the American at New York. The Admiral would
then turn to the gypsy women, if he could catch them. But
we can do with them all that he could do, and, I think, more.
He could not well read the articles of war to them, and
threaten the cat-o'-nine-tails if they did not split. As for the
American, he would be certain to defy the Admiral to his
teeth. Miss Bullfinch, tell me your opinion of this American.
He seems to me to control the gypsy women and the sailor,
Cox."
" I have never seen the man, Sir Jerry, but my brother has,
and he has quick perception."
*' Please, Sir Jerry, I have. JMay is right. I pronounced
Lord Doomsday a good one from the first time I saw him,"
said Young Jack, briskly.
" Let your sister proceed. Master Jack. Her opinion in
this matter will be of more value, I think, than that of all the
rest of us."
" My brother's opinion of the American is very favorable,
Sir Jerry, and I have still greater faith in him."
" Why, my dear young lady ?"
" Because of his character. Sir Jerry. I first heard it last
spring when Cotsvvold told my father of him, and delivered
two letters from Mr. Scarlet. In these letters he was spoken
of in the highest terms. The gypsy spoke of him as such men
never speak of any one who is not brave, honest, and true to
his professions. Pie is a horseman — a great horseman ! and
Oh, Sir Jerry and dear Lady Snafile ! I never in my life knew
a really great horseman who was a treacherous, pitiful rogue.
It would be against nature !" said May, with emphasis.
" Now, thank you, May Bullfinch, for speaking such a
sovereign truth," said Sir Jerry,
"And in this I heartily join," exclaimed Lord Doomsday.
" It is a truth."
" I really think it is," said Lady Snaffle, " for my husband,
John Bullfinch, and Major Fitzgerald are instances."
" So is Tom Scarlet, my lady ! And, Lord Doomsday, you're
another, as the saying is," cried Young Jack.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 353
" Ay," said May, " there is no truer heart than that of the
man who is absent, and none (dropping her voice) more gen-
erous and kind than that of the young nobleman who is present.
Since w^e never doubted Mr. Scarlet, why should w^e doubt his
friend ? The sailor said to-day that he could not be dead
because Sassafras was with him, a man who w^ould take des-
perate chances rather than have him hurt. Sir Jerry, I have
full faith in this man from America. If he had done wrong,
or deserted his friend at need, or even if he had bad news to
relate, he w^ould not have sent the message to my father and
— to me."
*' That's as clear as the sun at noonday," said Sir Jerry.
" And he would not be going to bet against the Duke in
the match," said Young Jack. " Oh, Sir Jerry, consider the
bearings of the match !"
May Bullfinch drew nearer to Lady Snafile. She blushed
and was a little shame-faced, having done speaking. How
came the insight and apt reasoning from one who was usually
distinguished for maidenly reserve ? Why, she would die for
Tom Scarlet ; and the man, Sassafras, from all that she could
learn and divine, would die for him too, at need. " A fellow
feeling makes us wondrous kind," and sometimes eloquent and
wise as well.
" I must sleep upon this, and then determine how to act,"
said Sir Jerry. " Lady Snafile, we had a great run to-day — a
grand run. Lord Doomsday was in at the death."
The ladies and young Bullfinch congratulated his lordship.
"My lord, I'm so glad," said Young Jack. "Of course
the country was stiff*."
" I should think so. We found at Stratton and he w^ent
right through the Bicester Yale. All the fences are big there,"
said Sir Jerry.
" I wish I had been there," said Jack. " I was upon the
point of trying to come up with Lord Doomsday to ask for
his influence in favor of Jim Tanner, but Rose said — said
something."
"And what was it she said. Master Jack?" said Sir
Jerry.
" If you please. Lord Doomsday and Sir Jerry, I hope it
won't give ofifeuce. She said, 'That for his influence! (suap-
23
354 THE WHITE HOUSE OF WOOTTON.
ping his fingers) Lady SuafHe has more influence with Sir
Jerry, and reason good, than twenty lords !' "
The baronet laughed heartily, >vhile Lady Snaffle and the
young lord had some difficulty in refraining from laughter
themselves. The gentlemen then retired. In a few minutes,
however, the footman announced that Sir Jerry wished to see
Master Bullfinch for a moment.
" Now, Master Bullfinch," said Lady Snaffle, "you must
not say that there is a beautiful scheme, a plan, in pursuance
of which Tom Scarlet is to be kept concealed. I insist upon
it that he shall be produced. Tell Sir Jerry that."
" Master Jack, do you happen to know where Jack Cots-
wold is at present ?" said the baronet, as the boy entered his
room.
" Why, no. Sir Jerry. Stop ! Eose said at Christmas that
he had gone to Lancashire. I have it. Sir Jerry ! Where he
is Tom is, and please. Sir Jerry, they are watering the 'plant.' "
" AVatering the * plant.' Then there is a * plant ?' "
" O, if you please. Sir Jerry, I forgot. I was not to men-
tion that, and I must not disobey her ladyship for anything."
" You imagine Tom Scarlet is in England, and will be here
to ride in the match ?"
" Yes, Sir Jerry, and that he will bring the horse he is to
ride. He was to bring the White Horse, and no doubt he has
got him. He went for him," Jack replied.
"My own thought. Master Jack. What else could the
American intend when he said he should bet against the
Duke ? Say nothing of this."
"O, not a word. Sir Jerry. But if The Bagman keeps on
going well, and if Tom and his horse should not come to time
I think, please, Sir Jerry, you had better get Lord Doomsday
to ride."
" Too young and too modest, Young Jack."
" Please, Sir Jerry, he's not as young as he looks, and that
is the case with me. I could show him over every line in the
vale, and whichever the gentlemen choose, he would know^ the
rights of it. I think they will choose the one right down this
side of Brill Hill, so as to have the big brook and Barker's
bullfinch towards the finish."
" I think it very likely, Master Jack. Gk)od-by. I may be
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 355
at Hawk'ell to-morrow, perhaps. If not, I shall be on the
third day, unless I see "our father at the meet on the day after
to-morrow."
CHAPTER XXXVII.
" 0, tell me how Love cometh —
Like dew from Heaven sent.
And tell me how Love goeth —
That was not Love which went."
AT the rising of the moon, as May Bullfinch and her
brother rode home, there was a change of the wind and
of the weather. The breeze veered six or eight points at the
going down of the sun, and riding on the sharp loreath of the
north came a frost which seemed rapidly to convert the mud
into a thick crust, and to cover the pools with a thin skin of
ice. John Bullfinch had reached home, after the capital run
with the hounds, long before his children arrived. As he wel-
comed his daughter, he saw that she was excited and some-
what agitated. After supper, Moleskin called in, and gave
an account of the sailors, whose release he now seemed to re-
gret. John, however, maintained that he had done quite
right. The keeper denied it, but declared that he derived
great consolation from the belief that one or both of them
would be wounded by a spring-gun or caught in a man-trap
before many days. Upon this a debate arose. The worthies
contradicted each other, got heated, and each declared that
the other was the most unreasonable man in the neighborhood.
To this the keeper added that, concerning John Bullfinch, it
was no wonder, for nobody ever heard of a Bullfinch who
would not fly into a passion when confronted and confounded
by cool argument. They then got sulky over their pipes, and
looked at each other for some time more like bulldogs than
two middle-aged men who had a strong regard for each other.
Gradually May Bullfinch and Jack unfolded to them all they
had to tell concerning Cox and Cooper, Miriam Cotswold and
the man believed to be Sassafras. The farmer was sorely per-
plexed. " It beats me clean," said he. " I can't make it out.
If Tom Scarlet is alive and well, as Southdown maintains to
356 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
be beyond argument, and as Sir Jerry himself holds to be
nearly certain, -svhy don't he come home and show himself? It
appears that other people have lately come from America.
Here's this sailor chap and the man-of-war's-man — here's
Miriam Cots wold ; here's this man that killed Jagger, and
makes no bones of telling of it. They have come — why hasn't
Tom Scarlet come ?"
" The sailor told Lady Snaffle that contrary winds had no
doubt prevented," replied Young Jack.
" Contrary winds didn't prevent him, it seems," said John,
with his eyes fixed ruefully upon his daughter's face, and a
little surliness in his tone. " I say contrary winds is no an-
swer. I want to know why Tom Scarlet doesn't come, if he
can come? He has nothing to be ashamed of, has he?"
" No," said Young Jack, boldly ; " Nothing at all."
" Hera !" replied the keeper. " Nothing as I know of, ex-
cept that if he could come, he has stayed away such a long
time that he feels himself to be in the wrong as regards — as
regards your daughter. May, and hangs fire like."
" I should think he's no such faint-hearted fool as that,"
said John Bullfinch. " But now, Dick, as you are cool again,
and are a long-headed sort of man, and well up to some things
when your prejudices are not involved, give me your opinion
of the sailors, the gypsy, and the man from America, and
what they say."
" I will," said Moleskin. " In the first place, the sailors are
poachers ; and I have no faith in anything said or done by a
poacher. It's true I let them go, more fool I. But it was at
the request of Lady Snaffle, and her ladyship's wishes are a
sort of law to me, in anything reasonable. What the sailors
said is to be looked upon as gammon — nothing but gammon !"
" Cox produced the totem. May has it," said Young Jack.
" Well, as far as the totem goes, we'll admit what he says ;
though, as he's a poacher, and a bad character in general, as
all poachers are — he kicked up a row at the races, when here
in the spring, and punched Parkins in the head^I might de-
cline to admit so much. But that admitted, what does it
amount to ? Nothing at all. He has not seen Tom Scarlet
for nearly a year, nor anybody who has seen him. Then
there's the gypsy ! We know what gypsies are. Miriam,
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 857
Miss May is going to say, is different from tne common run.
There is a difference, for she's bolder and more artful than
others of the band. Think of her setting off to America all
alone — if she was alone — and staying there alone for a year !"
May Bullfinch hid her face in her handkerchief. Moleskin
saw it, but went on like a surgeon who, with a knife in hand,
cuts away, caring nothing for the quivering of the nerves or
the flinching of the muscles. " Therefore," said he, "we must
look at her as just as any other gypsy, but more dangerous
and deceitful than common. You can't hatch a pheasant out
of a crow's Qgg^ no matter where you set it. So what she
says is of no more use than a flash in the pan. Not so much,
for it is to be taken contrary ways. And I'm very glad she
didn't say more. If she had said plump that Tom Scarlet
was vvell and would be here to-night, and had offered to swear
to it, I should have considered it good proof that he was as
dead as a red herring."
" Go on to the other fellow — the man from America," said
John, gruflly.
" The other fellow," said Moleskin, " is, by his own showing,
a dangerous and suspicious character, a sort of wild beast in a
neighborhood like this."
" No, no ! a civil man ! a well-spoken man !" said Young
Jack.
"A man who has killed other men and brags about it," re-
turned Moleskin. " Who has been shot four or five times, and
isn't dead yet, which is of itself enough to set peaceable people
on their guard against him. It is to be hoped that he's had
nothing to do with Tom Scarlet, for if he has, it's ten to one
that the young man is dead as a door nail, and this man and
the gypsy have come over here to try and get hold of his pro-
perty. Didn't you say the gypsy told you that you would
meet him ? and didn't you say that he asked the wav to the
Grange?"
"I did," replied Young Jack, "but what of that? Why,
if he was, as I hope and believe, Tom Scarlet's true friend in
America, and is his friend and our friend now, he would ask
that."
The keeper was about to reply, when John Bullfinch inter-
posed.
358 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
" Dick," said he, " Jack is right in that remark. May, my
dear, the argument we have heard from Moleskin seemed strong,
very strong, for a time. But it reminds me of one made to
him and me by Parkins, when Tom Scarlet first went away,
which proved that Tom was murdered then, and that Gypsy
Jack had done it."
" What the man says himself doesn't seem to give ground
for any reasonable expectation that Tom Scarlet will ever be
seen here again," said the keeper. " I'm sorry, very sorry to
give Miss May pain ; but the sooner she ceases to remember
him the better. Not but what she may have a kind of hope,
just as you and I hope that our cock will win his battle, when
everybody else about the pit is ready to pound him. There
may be hope, but I can't see that there is any grounds for rea-
sonable expectation."
The keeper soon after left them, and the farmer and his
children sat silent until the clock struck ten. May Bullfinch
then kissed her father and went up-stairs with her brother,
while John removed into the kitchen and established himself
in the chimney-corner. The boy did and said all he could to
reassure his sister, and insisted much upon the look and man-
ner of Sassafras. They knelt together and said their prayers.
Never since the time of her early infancy, when her mother
used to put her little hands together, before she could talk,
and repeat the Lord's prayer, had May prayed more fervently,
or with a more serene confidence in the wisdom and mercy of
God, than on that night. She bade her brother an afiectionate
good-night, and prepared to undress. Then she drew aside the
curtain at one of her windows and looked out. It faced towards
the south. Beneath it was the paved court-yard, then the
garden : to the left the orchard, and in front of all the meadow
called the Lea, which extended down to the blackthorn brake
surrounding the Hawk's Well, from which the ancient house
and farm derived its name. The moon, now high in the hea-
vens and nearly at her full, shone brightly down upon the
brake, and there for an instant the maiden saw the figure of a
man in the tall bushes, whose face in the moonlight was pale.
She started back, like one who had been struck. In a mo-
ment, however, she collected herself, and looked out again.
No form was there. But at that instant a drift of clouds was
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 359
passing over the moon. She waited until it was gone, but even
tlien she could see nothing save the dark outline of the bushes
which formed the brake. It was the place where she and Tom
Scarlet had often walked in the gloaming, and a strange feeling,
neither fear nor dread, but akin to both, shot through her.
She reasoned that the appearance resulted from her over-tried
and agitated imagination, and falling on her knees she prayed
again with fervor.
Meantime, the mastiff. Fury, which had been sleeping before
the fire when John Bullfinch seated himself in the chimney-
corner, arose and paced the room like a tiger in a cage. Once
or twice she came to the farmer, and laying her great dark
muzzle on his knee, gave a sort of moan. She grew so uneasy
and went so often to the door, that John Bullfinch rose and let
her out. Instead of barking, as was her wont, she turned and
looked him in the face, until he closed the door upon her.
Then with noiseless steps and long strides, she took her way to
the brake by the well, and there paced round and round a
muffled man, who stood among the bushes with his eyes
steadily fixed upon the light at the window of May Bullfinch.
A quarter of an hour passed, during which the man still
watched the light, seemingly hoping or fearing that the maiden
would come to the window again, when the mastiff" stopped in
her walk, and with fire in her red eye, gave a low deep growl.
" Quiet, Fury ! a friend !" said the man, as the rustle of the
bushes gave note that another was approaching.
"Against orders!" said the new^ comer. "Quiet that big
dog. She's twice as big as a Spanish bloodhound, and looks
four or five times as fierce. You were to wait for me at the
Grange."
" I know that, but I couldn't do so. Sassafras. So near her,
after such a long absence. Such doubt and fear as there's been
about me, and such faith and trust as she has shown — I
could wait no longer. I couldn't stay away from her another
minute. Look here ! this is from my picture, taken when I
was a boy. She put it there with her own hands on Christmas
eve."
" Ay, ay ! a good girl !" said Sassafras, taking a sprig of
holly, and holding it in the moonlight. " If you remember, I
always said she was a good girl, when you talked of her at
360 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
our camps, and so did Francois. But as you are here, why not
go to the house, and let the jolly old farmer bring his daugh-
ter down to welcome her wandering lover ?"
" Ay, why not !" replied Tom Scarlet. " I see by the light
below that John Bullfinch is in the kitchen, no doubt smoking
his pipe in the chimney-corner. Fury found out somehow
that I was here, for I heard the back door shut just before she
came, which must be half an hour ago. I've been watching
that light at her window. She came to it once."
" Watching the light ! Why you're as silly as the fellow
who sat on the bank all day waiting for the river to run by.
Why don't you go to the house and watch her?"
" The truth is. Sassafras, that I feel timid — what you may
call shy, and afraid to present myself before her, having been
away so long. I ought to have come when we first landed."
" You ought not to have come now, I think," said Sassafras.
"A man of your pluck — a young fellow like you! after the
adventures you've gone through, been at death's door, and
three parts of the way in, to be afraid of a young girl who
loves you, is the greatest nonsense I ever heard of."
" I knew you would say so ; but so it is ! It's my love for
her, you know."
" Love ! Ain't I in love ? Look at me ! Am I afraid ?"
" You're not in love with her f said Tom, with emphasis.
" Why, no ! If I was I shouldn't stand chattering here in
the chill moonlight when I might be by her side at the fire,"
replied Sassafras. " If this is to be the effect she'll have on
you. Sir Jerry must get another rider, for you'll break your
neck in the steeple-chase to a certainty, after a few hours at
her apron strings. If you've got a flask of brandy about you,
take a good swig and settle your thoughts."
" I have none. I need none ; and after our meeting is once
over, I shall be as bold as a lion and as cool as a cucumber
for the steeple-chase. With her eye on me, I can't lose it."
" Well, that's more like the Tom Scarlet I have known.
This little rascal love plays the traitor though, to some bold
hearts, and courage goes out as he enters in. I suppose I
must go to honest John myself. It's lucky I met his son — a
likely lad — since I left you. Keep that dog back, and keep
her quiet. When I whistle come to the door."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 361
John Bullfinch was still seated in the chimney-corner, and
not in a cheerful frame of mind, when there was a guarded
knock at the door. The farmer wondered that there was no
alarm from Fury ; but he was insensible to fear, and thought
it might be one of his men, come there for some reason. He
opened the door, and there stood Sassafras, in his pilot coat
and glazed hat. At first appearance the face of Sassafras was
not one to strike an Englishman of the rnral parts favorably.
The strong, bony features, the deep-set, bright eye, and the
matted, black hair were such as were seldom seen in the Mid-
land Vale.
" What do you want ?" said the farmer.
"Your pardon for what seems an unwarrantable intrusion
at this hour," replied Sassafras. "After that a few words
with you, and a word or two with your son, Master Bullfinch,
who has a sort of a promise from me."
" And who may you be ?" said John Bullfinch.
" I'm the man he met to-day. I suppose he mentioned the
man from America ?"
" The man from America !" said John Bullfinch, with an
air of surprise and abstraction. " Yes, he mentioned that
man."
" Well, Mr. Bullfinch, I am the man in question — Sassafras,
the friend of Tom Scarlet."
" You are quite sure of that last, eh ?"
" I am," said Sassafras, returning the farmer's steady look.
" Come in," said John ; " I fully believe you. I'll call my
son down without disturbing his sister."
" Wait a bit, Mr. Bullfinch," said Sassafras, as they entered
together. " There's another man from America outside, and
he's more bashful than I am, so I came first."
" You mean Tom ? God bless my soul and heart alive !
He isn't dead, and he's come at last," cried John Bullfinch.
" I've said so all along. I told 'em so ! I said to Moleskin
this very night — says I, ' Tom is all right, and the man from
America is his friend.' Sassafras, bring Tom in !"
" Gently, sir ; speak lower. Miss May Bullfinch had better
not be alarmed of a sudden."
"You're right! It's well be-thought of. My daater has
been anxious and disturbed, in a sort of pale and pining way.
AVe must have a care for her."
3G2 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
"It will be easily managed," said Sassafras. "You call
Master Bullfiuch down-stairs handsomely — that is, with no
more stir than needful, and I'll have Tom here in no time.
Then your son shall go up and call his sister to hear what his
acquaintance, the man from America, has got to say. She will
see, by the boy's face and manner, that the man from America
has good news. At the foot of the stairs you take her in your
arms with a fond embrace, and carry her into the sitting-room.
She'll know then who's here, and Tom may go in and tell her
the rest, while I explain matters to you by the chimney-
corner."
" It's jest the thing !" said the farmer, in a husky voice.
He stole softly up-stairs, wdiile Sassafras went to the door
and gave a low whistle. Before Tom Scarlet was there the
farmer had returned. When the young man came he shook
him warmly by the hand, without a word, and then drew him
into the room.
" Tom, my boy, I'm glad to see thee back. We thought at
times you would never come. But it was contrary winds, no
doubt. When did you land ?"
" Nearly a month ago," replied Tom, rather sheepishly.
"A month ago? And not come here till now ! Why not?"
" The truth is, sir, that Sassafras w^ould'nt let me, and I'm
ashamed of it. Still, I've got the horse in the way of good
condition by staying down there in Cheshire."
" Ah, the horse. Is he a good horse, Tom ? As good as The
Bagman?"
" Better, sir. At least two stone better over a real stiff
country. Barring accidents. Sir Jerry will win."
The entrance of the farmer's son cut short further observa-
tions on that head, especially as Sassafras stood forward and
said :
" Hullo, young Bullfinch. Here we are again. Young Jack !
And you see I've brought the man who was shot in the head
and went down the rapids of the Neosho."
Young Jack flew to Tom Scarlet, saying :
"Oh, Tom, what a joyful thing this is. You're back!
Now they'll believe what I say. I told 'em so all along ! I
told Lady Snaffle and May this evening, and I told May to-
night, the very last thing I said, and after w^e had kissed each
other at the chamber door, that it was all right."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 863
" You are the boy for me !" said Sassafras. " Now you go
to your sister's room, aud ^Yake her up handsomely — gently,
you know. Don't rush in like a bull at a gate, but hand-
somely ; and say as quietly as you can, that the man from
America is down here and wants to see her. You may men-
tion that he's rough and ready, but as true as steel."
" I have already told her that a score of times, since Miriam
said it," replied Young Jack.
" Go, my son, and be gentle. I'll meet you and May at the
stair foot," said John Bullfinch.
The lad and his sister were heard on the stairs sooner than
they expected, for May Bullfinch had not undressed. She
had heard her father talking to Sassafras, though unable to
distinguish what he said. Heard him call her brother up, and
heard the latter go down-stairs. Fond kisses as he carried her
into the sitting-room, and many affectionate little pats on the
back when she was seated, together with the joy she saw in
his blufi* face and blue eyes, told her all. He said nothing
but this, " May, my dear, he's outside, and all of a flutter.
Afraid, the man from America says — afraid of you. I'll go
and send him in here."
After Tom Scarlet had gone to May, her father sat on one
side of the fire and his son on the other, and both had their
eyes on Sassafras, who was in front of it.
" I said I should explain," he began. " He was a long time
away, and thought to be dead. He was as near death as any
man may be and pull through. Shot in the head, but by a
glancing ball, he went down the rapids. If ten thousand men
went into them wounded as he was, I don't believe there would
be another saved. The river, however, was high, and an eddy
carried him on to a shelving rock, where he lay insensible.
It was even then falling. The streams out there rise and fall
very rapidly. His senses came back to him, but he was un-
able to get up the steep, rocky bluff". Keeps and Kirby found
him there the next day ; and Keeps, a handy fellow, but no
better in other ways than he should be, rigged a purchase and
got him up the bluff: They fed him and nursed him, and
sheltered him as well as they could, all through the storm of
the next night, which was one of the hardest that ever raged
there."
" It was well done of them," said John Bullfinch.
364 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
" Ay, it was ! But he was their salvation. Their lives hung
upon his and they knew it. On the morning after the storm,
I started Cinnamon and a band of his Indians on their trail,
while I went to look u] the man who had planned the raid
upon us, and who as he believed, had killed Tom Scarlet.
The chief was painted for war, and it was a hundred to one
that the hair would not be on the heads of Keeps and Kirby
forty-eight hours longer. Miriam Cotswold, however, insisted
that I should send Franyois with the Indians to look for Tom's
remains, and went herself. It was well, for she recognised Tom
just as the Indians had got the other party corralled, and had
loosed their knives and tomahawks for a spring."
" Bless my soul !" said John Bullfinch, while his son sat star-
ing upon the narrator.
*' Cinnamon was naturally disappointed, for he meant busi-
ness, and when the Cheyennes mean business they go for
blood ; but he had taken a great liking to Tom Scarlet, and
at his earnest entreaty, he let Keeps and Kirby slide. We
travelled to my plantation at St. Jo., and after the necessary
prepr.rations came here. We have brought the White Horse,
and the White Horse and I prevented Tom from coming to
see you right away."
" The White Horse !" said John Bullfinch.
" Ay, the White Horse. He had to be trained, you know,
for this great match between the Duke of Jumpover and Sir
Jerry. We have kept him at strong work near Chester, and
in about a week you and Sir Jerry must come down quietly,
and see a little trial."
<' The White Horse !" said John. " So this horse he's brought
that can beat the Bagman two stone, is the White Horse.
Sassafras, I have my doubts about him. He's an unlucky
horse, and I have my doubts."
" Sir, you'll have none when you see him take off at a rasp-
ing fence with Tom upon his back."
"Maybe so. Sassafras. But is he a water-jumper? You
see, my experience is, that many a good fencer is not good at
water. I mean big natural watercourses. There will be an
ugly brook in this business, twenty-five feet at least, and the
Duke's horse is a real good water-jumper, as good almost as
Cowslip."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 365
" Fire or water, this horse will face anything," said Sassafras,
" and so will his rider when Tom is in the saddle."
" Say you so ?" said John. " What's his breeding ?"
" Well, sir, the full pedigree I cannot give, but he is quite
thoroughbred. He was got by StumjDs."
" Hold on !" said John, " you begin well. The Whalebone
blood, to begin with as a foundation, cannot be excelled.
From Whalebone's son (Stumps) comes the color."
" His dam was by Master Henry."
" Why, good again !" cried John. " It couldn't be better.
There you bring in Old Orville, a horse of ten thousand."
" Grandam by Tramp," said Sassafras sententiously.
" Why, better yet ! This'll suit John Gully, Isaac Sadler,
and Ransome exactly. Why, Tramp got the Little Red Rover
and Dangerous ; and he was grandsire of Glencoe, with whom
Lord Jersey challenged for The Whip at Kew Market, last
year. Sassafras, you must see Ransome."
Sassafras laughed, and said, " Well, sir, to tell you the truth,
I have seen him. We sent a special request to him to come
down and look at the horse a week ago, and there he is now,
taking care of him while we run up here."
" Oh, father, what a beautiful plant !" said Young Jack.
" Why, so it is. But, Sassafras, Ransome is no trainer.
Now, if you had sent to me, I could have got Will Chifney
and John Day to go down."
" Yes, and half England would have known it. Mr. Ran-
some don't attract the public eye. Why, the people in the
coaches on his journey down took him for a banker. Besides,
Tom says that he is the best judge in England of a horse for
cross-country work, and of his proper condition."
" Sassafras, I believe he is, except Tom himself. Tom is an
extraordinary young man. Still, he ought to have let us
known that he was well and at hand."
" I'll explain that," said Sassafras. " A letter was sent to
you from St. Jo. by him, the direction by another hand. That
letter was lost at sea, there is every reason to believe ; and
when he learned through Miriam that you had heard nothing
of him, and that Miss Bullfinch was unwell, I could hold him
in no longer. He has been going to bolt the track above twice
a week ever since we lauded, and when he found that his letter
366 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
had never reached England, come here he would. We must
go again by the mail coach just before day, leaving you to
explain to Sir Jerry Snaffle."
" I'll ride over and do so," said John. " You mentioned
Miriam Cotswold. It is almost a pity that she has come back
to these parts. A gypsy camp is a queer place."
" Farmer Bullfinch," said Sassafras, " she is not going to
stay back. After Tom's affairs are settled she will return to
America with me. I'm going to marry her. She will suit
me and suit my plantation as its mistress. She can put up
with my way of life better than any other woman in the
world. A little while in the gypsy camp here won't hurt her.
Miriam can take care of herself anywhere. She was in an
Indian camp when I first saw her."
" You will be married here, of course."
" No, sir ; in King George county, Virginia, where I was
born, there is a little church, and in the graveyard round that
little church my forefathers are buried. Miriam and I have
settled it that we'll be married in that little church. In fact,
she insists that it shall be there."
" Give me your hand again, sir," said John Bullfinch. " I
shall see about a wedding gift for Miriam. My daater May
will help me to see about it. Her mother, who is dead and
gone, used to have Miriam here when she was a child. Sas-
safras, you're the right sort of man. And if you did kill
Jagger, it's a matter for your own conscience as to whether
there was justifiable cause."
" In regard to that there was," said Sassafras. " I could
kill three or four more like him, in the same circumstances,
without the least compunction. The man was a villain — a
thief and a coward, and a murderer at heart ! We'll say no
more about him. As to the match, you come down with Sir
Jerry and see the horse. Meantime, we will keep our own
counsel, and come upon the Duke's party next month like a
thunder-clap in the night."
"So it shall be. Jack, you nu:;tn't split," said John,
seriously.
" Me split ! Never fear me ! But I must ride over with
Mav when she goes to tell all this to Lady Snaffle, so that I
may caution her ladyship," replied Young Jack.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 367
" It may be as well. "\Ye will all three go to-morrow after
iiniier. And I say, Jack, you needn't mention to her lady-
ship what Sassafras said about killing four or five more such
as Jagger, nor about the disappointment of the Indian because
he couldn't go for blood. Ladies, you see," he added to Sas-
safras, "are apt to be prejudiced in such matters; and the
Indian has sent over a message and a token, claiming Tom as
a sort of enlisted man, or what not."
" The totem of the tribe has come, then ! I'm glad of that.
Tom is now one of the Cheyeunes !"
" Sassafras," said Young Jack, " don't you tell that to our
May. She won't like it to be said about here that Tom is an
Indian."
" I see ! Young ladies may be prejudiced on that point,"
replied Sassafras. " But it's much the same as when your
king has a man kneel down, and with a touch of a sword
makes him rise up ' right honorable.' I'm a Cheyenne myself
in the way that Tom is. I earned the distinction on the war-
path against the Sioux, in the Eocky Mountains. Some day,
Young Jack, I'll tell you about the battle we fought in Hell
Gate Pass, when the Blackfeet had nearly come in third hand,
and put us all to the axe and scalping-knife. I can tell you
some beautiful things about Cinnamon, for, as a warrior and
hunter, there's not his equal among the tribes."
While the roving hunter of the West was interesting John
Bullfinch and his son, there was sweet communing and some
tears between May and Tom Scarlet in the other room. They
sat side by side and hand in hand, and Fury was at her mis-
tress' feet. As he told his tale she looked fondly in his manly
face. When he added that he must leave her before the dawn
of day, she said :
" Oh, Tom ! so soon, and after such an absence, when some
thought you had forgotten all about us."
" 'Tis but for two or three weeks," he replied. " And O,
May, my life and love, I never in one waking hour ceased to
think of you. I was scarcely at Liverpool when your image,
always in my mind, had liked to have lured me back. But I
said, ' If I go back bootless what a fool she'll think me.' Then
at sea, when I was sick, no better than a dead man, in the gale,
and the brig groaned and pitched as if she was going down
368 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
head first to the bottom of the sea, the thought of you was all
I had to set against much misery. In the West, upon the
great plains, hundreds of miles from the habitations of men,
with a feeling of boundless freedom, in boundless space, it was
happy to sit with Sassafras by the camp-fire at night, and, while
the wolves howled in the dark shadow beyond the light, to talk
of you. May. And when I lay, torn and bruised, on the rock
in the rapids, and with returning consciousness, that seemed to
come just as I was about to gasp out my last, your form came
with it, like a soft vision in my sleep, and gave me heart and
strength. Dear May, it was a joy, and I said, ' I shall not
perish here in the wilderness to be the prey of wolf and kite,
for my love lives for me in the Vale at home, and I will live
for her."
" O, Tom — poor Tom !" said she, with her face on his
shoulder.
" So May, my life and heart ! one little parting, and then I
return for good and all."
" And then you will roam no more ?"
" No more. Here is my home. Here is my love — better
than home itself! Home would be nothing — less than the
western wilds without her," he replied. " I shall never wan-
der more."
" Not even to go to see Sassafras, Tom ?"
" Ah, May, Sassafras, the best and most unselfish of friends,
will come sometimes to see you and me, and bring Miriam with
him. He is a born I'over, and neither of them seems to sutler
from the sea."
They sat and talked on. Young Jack came and hinted that
a little of Tom Scarlet's company in the kitchen would be de-
sirable ; his father came and asked May whether she had not
better go to bed. But there she sat, with Fury's great head
in her lap, and her hand in Tom Scarlet's, until Sassafras came
to the door and said, " Time's up !"
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 369
CHAPTER XXXVIIL
** Say, by what name men call ye,
What city is your home,
That in such guise ye come to rido
Before the ranks of Rome?
By many names men call us,
In many lands we dwell ;
Well Samo Thracia knows us,
Cyrene knows us well.
Our house in gay Tarentum
Is hung each morn with flowers J
Over the masts of Syracuse
Our marble portal towers.
But by the proud Eurotas
Is our dear native home,
And for the right we come to fight
Before the ranks of Rome."
THE Ides of March had come, the date for the great steeple-
chase between the horses to be named at the post by the
Duke of Jumpover and Sir Jerry Snaffle. The day was not
unfavorable, for the sky was tolerably clear overhead, and the
brisk March breeze had dried the ground, except in the low
places. The Vale was famous for its grass lands, its stiff fences,
and its wdde and deep brooks. Timber fences — that is to say,
posts and rails — there were next to none ; but the " bull-
finches" and ox-fences — mostly double thorn hedges, with
ditches on each side — were heavy and thick. The line chosen
by the umpires was a noted one for the stiff* fences which
would be encountered ; and there was one brook of more than
ordinary wddth and difficulty when the stream was swollen, as
was the case that day. The distance w^as from four miles and
a half to five miles. It was a famous line of country in the
times of the old, straightaway steeple-chase courses, which are
now totally fallen into disuse and superseded by roundabout
courses, mainly devised to enable the spectators to see the
horses all the way from a stand. These partly artificial courses
are not nearly as well calculated to try the powers of the
horses and to test their capabilities as fencers, as the old
straight lines were, and a different class of horses are now
entered. Still, the danger is quite as great — perhaps greater
24
370 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON,
— for the pace is stronger, and a tired horse will sometimes
fall at a comparatively small fence. This course was not quite
straight. The horses started from a field by the roadside, and
ran for over half a mile towards the southwest, which brought
them two or three fields from the road ; the line then went due
west, the fences being very heavy for over two miles. Then it
turned northwest for half a mile, and approached the road
again at the deepest and widest part of the brook before men-
tioned, over which the road was carried by a stone bridge.
This was a critical part of the race. But there was another
very critical point a mile further on, where, within a field of
the winning flag, there was a great leap to be taken over, or
rather through a very thick double fence, with its ditches,
called Barker's Bullfinch. It was a noted place, and many a
good horse and bold rider had been brought to grief by it, as
they were commonly nearly done up before reaching it by
their previous violent and long-continued exertions. The
fences over this line of course were numerous as well as heavy,
for the fields were not large. But there was this advantage
— it was nearly all grass laud, there being but three or four
ploughed fields in all the line. What plough there was, how-
ever, was heavy, for the ground was the fat, loamy clay of
the Vale, the strong land which will grow horse beans, and not
the light loam in which barley delights. The attendance of
spectators was very great. The match had long been a fruit-
ful and favorite topic with the gentlemen of the hunts pre-
sided over by the Duke and the Baronet, and many were in
attendance from the Pytchley, the Heythrop, and the Quorn
hunts. These were all well-mounted men, but they could not
hope to keep up with the matched horses except by keeping
mainly to the grass on each side of the road, and thus avoid-
ing the strongest leaps and some of the distance. The riders
of the horses engaged were not allowed to go over a hundred
yards along tlie road at any one time, and therefore they were
never in it at all, as they would have lost ground by jumping
into it. Besides the gentlemen of the hunts, there were many
farmers and farmers' sons, well-mounted, and great crowds of
foot people. The latter congregated most about the bridge
and at Barker's Bullfinch, though there were also many men
and boys up in trees all along the line. Those at the bridge
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 371
saw with a sort of satisfaction the yellow, turbid current rush-
ing along between steep banks, partly undermined by the stream
and fringed with alder bushes, and chuckled to themselves as
they said, " They must be good 'uns to clear this ; one or both
will get a ducking." While those who surveyed the thick,
leafless, double hedges of Barker's Bullfinch, composed of
whitethorn, blackthorn, crab-tree, dwarf maple, and a great
variety of briars, were equally well pleased with their own point
of vantage, remarking, " A steeple-chase is nothing without
falls, and my opinion is that both on 'em 'ull get * croppers'
at this here bullfinch." All the line was down the Vale. It
was not by any means a flat surface, for the ground was undu-
lating, and upon a range of hill to the southward there were
many spectators. Upon this hill stood two windmills, and
the houses of the millers. All the windows in the houses and
the galleries of the mills were occupied by the wives and
daughters of the neighboring farmers, and they had a good
though rather distant view of the steeple-chase.
The hour for naming the horses had almost come. The
stewards, Sir Harry Plowden and Captain Fane, were in the
field, surrounded by many men on horseback and some on foot.
There was a buzz of expectation as the Duke of Jumpover
came up, accompanied by a number of his select friends,
mostly country gentlemen of large estates and pedigrees much
more ancient than those in the stud book. The Duke was a
handsome man, with frank expression. With him came two
very fine, weight-carrying hunters, prepared for the race. He
had not declared which he would name, but the attention of
the trainer and the glances of his chosen rider, a gentleman of
name and fame from Melton Mowbray, indicated to the as-
semblage that the chestnut horse Belvoir, a thoroughbred of
great size and power, would be the one. The rider, Mr. Coplow,
was known to be one of the best gentlemen across a country in
England. His fame was much more widely spread than that
of Tom Scarlet had ever been, but his knowledge of the Vale
and his experience at its very heavy fences was not so large or
so thorough as that of the man whose absence the people of
the neighborhood began to deplore. The general opinion was
that Sir Jerry would name The Bagman and that his rider
would be Mr. Stilton, a very good man, but without that in-
372 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
spiration in moments of difficulty, and that magnetic touch
upon the reins, at supreme efforts, which informs and revives
the horse. These Tom Scarlet was thought by his friends to
possess. The Bagman had arrived and Mr. Stilton with a
careless air walked up and down near him as he was led along.
It was a sight at which Mr. Southdown and the farmers who
looked upon Mr. Southdown as an oracle were somewhat dis-
turbed.
The former saw The Bagman, and he saw Mr. Stilton play-
ing with his whip, but he did not see Sir Jerry, nor John Bull-
finch, nor Ransome, the great man among horsemen, who pre-
sided over the famous stud of Lord Jersey, at Middleton Park.
Mr. Southdown looked glum, and told his friend from London,
a sporting tavern-keeper, who had come down to see the match,
that his mind was not made up as to the result.
" Southdown, things don't look well for your party," said the
Londoner. "The Bagman is a good horse, but there isn't
enough of him to beat Belvoir, and Mr. Stilton seems to think
so. Sir Jerry hangs back. Perhaps he'll forfeit."
" Sir Jerry never hung back in his life, sir," replied Mr.
Southdown. " It wants almost half an hour yet to the time
set for naming the horses. They can start anything that was
regularly ridden to hounds last year."
" Ay, I know ; but Sir Jerry has but The Bagman here,
and your watch is slow, I think."
" It's no such thing, sir. Your Lunnon time is fast.
You're a good deal too fast in everything. But I shan't argey
the p'int," said Mr. Southdown. " What's that?"
It was a bustle and a cheer from the road, as Lady Snaffle's
phaeton with four horses and postilions and an outrider, in
the baronet's colors, dark blue and silver, came in sight.
These colors had been selected by the Admiral, as representing
the ocean out of soundings, and the moonlit surface of the
silver sea. There was another loud cheer as the carriage
dashed up and Lady Snaffle was recognised. The Duke, Sir
Harry, Captain Fane, and others raised their hats.
" Who's that lady ?" said the Londoner.
" Who's that lady, sir !" said Mr. Southdown, with undisguised
contempt. " Is it possible that you've come down here on this
occasion, and don't know the Admiral's daughter, when she
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 873
appears in state. I think you said, just now, that Sir Jerry
would pay forfeit. You're a nice man ! but it ain'-t worth
while argeying the p'int with a Lunnoner."
In the carriage with Lady Snaffle was May Bullfinch, to-
gether with her brother. This arrangement, when first pro-
posed, did not quite suit Young Jack. He had intended to
be on Young Cowslip, to show Lord Doomsday the best line
for Blue Peter, but had been overruled, in order that he might
stand up and describe to her ladyship the moving incidents
of the steeple-chase as they occurred. The postilions had not
long pulled up, when Jack Cotswold came dashing along on
the road towards the bridge in a gig, with a young woman by
his side.
" Please, my lady," said Young Jack, " there's Miriam and
her uncle. And, 6, here's Eose and those twins," he added,
looking back.
There indeed was Cooper in his best uniform, patiently
leading a donkey, in whose panniers sat the twins, while Rose
strode along by their side in a black velvet bonnet profusely
decorated with the blue and silver colors of Sir Jerry Snaffle.
" How do you do, Cooper," said Lady Snaffle, while May
Bullfinch smiled and nodded.
"I'm hearty, my lady, thanks to you. I've heard the
Admiral has hove up anchor, and is standing for this road-
stead, under a press of sail. Being in duty bound to report
to him, I've come myself, and lent Uose a hand to steer this
donkey and take care of the children."
" As if I couldn't take care of my own twins !" said Rose,
with some contempt.
" But why have you brought them here, Rose ?" said Young
Jack.
" Why have I brought 'em ? Why to let them see good
horsemanship. Haven't my twins got as good right to see it
as other people's children ? You and Meg Southdown are
here."
Young Jack blushed up to his eyes, and said in a low voice,
" O, my lady, let this woman go along. Let Cooper take
her away."
" I'm sure I am willing," said Lady Snaffle, with a low
laugh.
374 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
Just then there was a louder cheer than that which had
greeted Lady Snaffle's arrival, and it came from the road in
the opposite direction. All eyes were turned that way, and
from a lane to the right of the road there came six horsemen,
followed by a trooping crowd of men, boys and gypsy women,
all shouting and clamoring.
Sir Jerry Snaffle, John Bullfinch, Lord Doomsday and
Major Fitzgerald were immediately recognised, but the dark
man on John Bullfinch's left hand and the whiskered person
on Sir Jerry's right were not, save by Lady Snaffle, May Bull-
finch and Young Jack. As the clamoring crowd drew nearer
the other parties made out the words, " Scarlet ! Scarlet ! Tom
of the Grange !" and Mr. Southdown dashed his spurs into
the sides of his horse, crying, " By George ! he's come ! My
mind's made up !"
He was still more excited when he saw behind the gentle-
men, a led horse in clothes, beside which Mr. Kansome rode,
with the solemn, anxious face he always had when attending
a racer of mighty promise on a great day. At a sign from
Lady Snaffle, the whiskered man went to the carriage side, and
would have remained there bome time had it not been for the
expostulations of Sir Jerry and John Bullfinch, The dark
man and Ransome proceeded into the field with the horse in
clothes between them.
" What the d — 1 is all this ?" said Sir Harry Plowden.
*' In the first place, it is Tom Scarlet, and I am glad he has
reached home safe and well," replied the Duke. " In the next
place he seems to have not only come himself, but to have
brought the dark horse about which there have been many
rumors in respect to this match."
" What a d d rascal ! I have got two hundred bet at
evens with Major Fitzgerald," said one of the Melton Mow-
bray men.
" Rascal !" said the Duke, " nothing of the sort ! The match
always contemplated the naming of any horse that was quali-
fied by having been hunted with last year. If Sir Jerry
Snaffle has been able to get one better than The Bagman it
may be the worse for me. I would name a better than Bel-
voir if I knew where to find him. I know of no gentleman
who would feel called upon to do more than comply with the
terms of the match, and this Sir Jerry has done.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 375
" Exactly !" said Captain Fane. " Our friend here seems
to think that Sir Jerry ought to have sent the bellman round to
tell the people that he had a better chance to win than some
supposed. He may not win. I have known dark horses de-
ceive their owners. But here he comes."
" Sir Jerry," said the Duke, as the Baronet rode up, " I sin-
cerely congratulate you upon the arrival of Tom Scarlet. His
horsemanship is better know^n to you, but hardly better appre-
ciated than by me. He has sometimes hunted with my hounds,
and I hope he will again."
" I thank your grace for him," said Sir Jerry. " He seems
to be too busy just now with his neighbors and friends to come
here and do it for himself"
" We suppose you are now ready to name ?" said Sir Harry.
" I believe so," replied the Duke. " Gentlemen, I name
Belvoir, hunted with my own hounds last year. Mr. Coplow
will ride him."
" And I," said Sir Jerry Snaffle, " name the White Horse, now
called St. Jo., hunted with the Vale of White Horse hounds
last year, as you, Sir Harry Plowden, and you, Captain Fane,
will see if you go and look at him."
" It is needless ; still, we will go and have a look at this
champion and rover," said the Duke. " I'm told by Sir Jerry
that the horse has been to America, and come back after many
adventures among Indians and hunters," he added, after a few
words with the Baronet.
The group moved towards the crowd surrounding the White
Horse. The latter was now stripped and being saddled and
fitted out by Sassafras and Ransome. His bloodlike appear-
ance, and the immense power he displayed — a big horse on
short legs — were quickly noted and commented on.
" You seem to have got him there, Ransome," said the
Duke.
" I think w^e've got a pretty good one, your grace, but the
test will tell. If he's as good as he looks, and as Tom Scarlet
thinks, Belvoir and Mr. Coplow wdll have hard work to win,"
Ransome replied.
The Duke, Sir Jerry and the stewards drew off again, taking
Tom Scarlet and John Bullfinch with them. The latter in-
vited Mr. Southdown to go also, but that gentleman was the
376 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
subject of another attraction. He had heard of Sassafras from
May Bullfinch and Young Jack many times of late ; and now
that he was in presence, the ponderous grazier kept close by
his side. There was no small contrast between the dark, lithe,
black-eyed, and black-haired man of the Far West, and the
towering, massive grazier of the midland English vale, Avith his
full, ruddy face. Yet they were types of the same race ; the
former modified, or rather intensified, by the residence of many
generations in the hot summers and bilious autumns of America,
" See the Duke's horse — that's Belvoir," said Ransome to
Sassafras.
" A grand horse," replied the latter — " a noble specimen of
the thoroughbred. But don't you think that for this business,
over such a distance of ground and such a difficult country,
he is a little too leggy ?"
" It may be so. He has more daylight under him than the
White Horse, though no bigger in frame."
" That's it. And then, to my mind, St. Jo. is stronger in
the back and loins, his big quarters are more turned under and
better calculated to send him over, when his fine shoulders
lift him into the air. But here comes Tom !"
Mr. Southdown did not wait for Scarlet and John Bull-
finch, but tearing himself, by an effort, from the side of Sassa-
fras, he struggled into the midst of a thick cluster of farmers
and hunting men, and, mounting his horse, proclaimed, with
a stentorian voice and cast of countenance impregnable against
all assault :
" My mind's made up — fully made up !"
" So is mine !" said an opulent yeoman from the borders of
Whittlebury Forest. " Belvoir will win it ! Don't tell me
about your White Horse and rider and trainer from America,
and other humbug ! I say Belvoir and Coplow will win it !"
" Dick King," replied Mr. Southdown, " I shan't argey the
question. I'll bet fifty guineas Belvoir and Coplow don't win."
His friend was about to take the bet, but before he had
said " Done !" he heard the clear, cutting tones of Sassafras, as
he led the White Horse up to the stewards, Tom Scarlet in
the saddle, in the blue and silver, and let go of his bridle.
" Gentlemen," said the man of the West, " here's St. Jo.,
and here is his rider. Everybody can see them now, and I'll
bet a hundred ounces they win this match !"
THE WHITE HOESE OF WOOTTON. 377
« Who is this man, and what does he mean?" said the Duke
to Sir Jerry and Tom Scarlet.
" He is a friend of mine, yoar grace ; a very gallant, de-
voted friend, too," replied Tom. " He is a planter and a great
hunter and a lover of good horses. His plantation on the
Missouri river is as beautiful a place as you would wish to
see — that is, all natural."
" A planter, eh ! What does he mean by one hundred
ounces ?"
" Ounces of gold, your grace. About four hundred pounds."
" Can he afibrd to lose it?" said the Duke.
" Yes ; but he thinks he can win ; and I think so too," said
Tom.
" I'll take his bet though," said the Duke.
He then walked up to Sassafras and said :
" Sir, I'll take the bet of a hundred ounces you have pro-
posed."
" All right, your grace ! I'll put my money up into the
hands of Mr. Bullfinch here, or anybody's."
" There is no need, sir. It is perfectly safe with you — as
safe as mine is with me."
With this the Duke mounted his horse ; and St. Jo. and
Belvoir being all ready, and Sir Harry Plowden mounted and
flag in hand, Sassafras said a few words to Sir Jerry Snaffle,
threw himself into the saddle of The Bagman, and galloped
away towards the west, over the fields between the flags and
the road. And now the impatience and din of the crowd
increased, and swelled up like the rush of winds, or the roar
of swift-running waters. Some horsemen stole ahead, unwill-
ing to leave the neighborhood of the start, especially with so
many eyes on them, but fearing that if they did not, they
might be away in the rear at the finish. The men and boys
in the trees rustled among the twigs, and craned their necks
forward. The ladies in the windows and galleries of the mills
pressed upon the rails. The postilions of Lady Snaffle's car-
riage sat in their saddles, looking over their left shoulders,
and with their whips ready to fall. Her ladyship stood up
for a moment, then sat down again to speak to May Bullfinch.
Then Young Jack cried, shrill and loud, " Off" they go, my
lady !"
378 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
CHAPTER XXXIX.
HURRAH ! hurrah !" shouted the men and boys in the
trees. " Clear the "svay ! By your leave there! Clear
the way !" cried the horsemen in the road, spurring forward,
and narrowly missing the knocking down of some foot people.
Crack ! crack ! like the report of two rifles, went the whips
of the postilions, and Lady Snaffle's carriage, cheered to the
echo as it passed along, was whirled away with the four horses
at a gallop.
While the riders of Belvoir and St. Jo. kept the true line of
the course outside the flags, the stewards and many horsemen
well mounted, with some not as well mounted as they thought,
took the shorter way over the fields and fences, on the in;iide
of the flags. The horsemen and foot people streamed along the
road so fast that they could hardly look at the contestants
away to the left ; but whenever Belvoir and St. Jo. made a
good leap, the men in the trees swung their hats and shouted,
and the ladies at the windmills wa,ved their handkerchiefs with
delight and glee. The incidents were commented upon to
Lady Snaffle and JMay Bullfinch by that sharp observer and
competent critic. Young Jack.
" They have got into the straight going, my lady, and are
running due west. The pace is improved. They are nearing
the big ox-fences of the line. They are just going at the first
real rasper. Belvoir clears it. So does St. Jo. ! My lady !
such a jumper. Now the pace is good. Coplow keeps the
very crown of a land, while Tom gallops on the south slope of
the next. Good judgment that, my lady ; for the sunny side
of the lands is better going than the very top in our deep goil,
as Mr. Coplow and his horse will find out, Now they are
coming to the brook above the bend. It's no great thing of a
jump, but it has spilt some already. There are four men in
it, this side of the flags, and their horses are loose. Cowslip
takes it beautiful ! There's a girl at the windmill leaning
over the gallery rail so far, that she'll be clean over directly ;
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 379
and it's forty feet to the ground. I hope it isn't Meg South-
down. Belvoir is across the brook ! So is St. Jo. ! He over-
jumped at least six feet, my lady, and is pulling hard. Now
the pace is strong. They are coming to the bullfinch, where
Tom pounded Lord Doomsday. O, my lady ! O, May ! Coplow
only just missed a cropper ! His horse stuck in the middle, and
blundered through. Tom rode at it as a bull terrier goes at a
badger. The Vv hite Horse smashed through, like a cannon-
ball ! It's the best steeple-chase that ever was seen. Now Tom
draws up closer to Belvoir. He is at his hip, and forces the
pace. My lady, they will soon be at the brook below the
bend. Let us be there first, and see the game from the
bridge."
" On, boys, on !" The whips of the postilions smacked, and
the steaming horses galloped. The first great crisis of the
race was near at baud. The horsemen in the fields sought the
road, to avoid the brook at this its widest and most difiicult
part. The Duke, Sir Jerry Snaffle, Sir Harry, and John Bull-
finch came sweeping by, while the foot people cheered lustily.
Near the bridge the press was great. A hulkiug fellow brought
the carriage to a standstill, by getting before the leaders in
the middle of the road. He caught at the heads of the
horses. The postilions swore. Youug Jack stormed. The
sailor Cox parted the crowd like a wedge ; caught the fellow
by the collar ; with a straight left-handed hit, sent him stag-
gering into the ditch, and touched his hat to the Admiral's
daughter. Now they had attained the very keystone of the
bridge, and over the heads of the foot people saw the yellow,
turbid torrent, as it came rushing down towards them. Lady
Snaffle looked a little anxious, and May Bullfinch grew paler.
About two hundred yards to the south the steeple-chasers were
coming to the brook above the bridge. They were nearly
neck and neck. The crimson and strawberry leaves of the
Duke were nearest, but the blue and silver of the baronet
were dearest to the men of the Vale. The interest was intense.
The people held their breath. Lady Snaffle and May Bull-
finch stood up, while Young Jack was too excited to speak.
Tramp! tramp! The very ground seemed to shake as the
powerful horses stode on. Belvoir led a trifle. As he came
to the bank, and heard the wild rush of the waters, he refused
380 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
the leap, swerved round to the left, and, striking the haunch
of St. Jo. with his shoulder just as he was leaving his ground
for a grand leap, tumbled him and his rider heels over head
into the flood. A shout ! a yell ! a shriek ! May Bullfinch fell
back into her seat, covering her eyes with her hands. Lady
Snaifle grasped Young Jack by the shoulder. The White
Horse was seen gallantly breasting the current, and making
for the bank he had meant to reach by his leap ; but his gal-
lant rider, helpless, stunned by the hoof of his own horse, was
floating down the stream. A man came running down the
bank swift as an arrow, and while Lady Snafile's gaze was still
upon the patch of blue in the middle of the yellow waters, a
dark form cleft the air and plunged into the stream.
" There ! the man ! the man !" she exclaimed. " I think it
was the sailor !"
" O, no, my lady !" said Young Jack, tearfully, " that was
Sassafras. And see, he'll have Tom out."
Close to the bridge, unseen by the spectators upon it, and
by almost every one else. Parkins, half drunk as usual, per-
formed a sort of dance, jumping up and down and shouting
" He's in, he's in !" Whether his exclamations proceeded
from joy did not exactly appear. He had never liked Tom
Scarlet before he went to America, and it was doubtful whether
he liked him much better now that he found the young man
had returned, for the opinion of Parkins in regard to America
was not high. Kose Tanner concluded, however, that Parkins
was rejoicing over Tom Scarlet's mishap, and while the con-
stable continued to shout " He's in, he's in !" she rushed at him
crying " Drat that man !" and with a vigorous shove with both
hands sent him headlong in himself. Her brother. Cooper,
got hold of him as he rose to the surface, and " hauled him
aboard," as he called it.
Coplow had managed to get Belvoir over, and the stout
White Horse had attained the west bank farther up, when the
powerful arm of Sassafras carried Tom Scarlet to the shore.
The blood was running down his cheek. He staggered when
set upon his legs, and looked around confused. Sassafras put
his mouth to his ear and shouted aloud :
"Come, Tom, rouse yourself! Pm here! Sassafras! and
May Bullfinch is looking on. Put your fingers in your mouth
and call up St. Jo."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON, 381
The young man did as he was told, and at the loud whistle
the horse came up. With the assistance of Sassafras, Tom
Scarlet was remounted. The seat upon the horse appeared to
revive and steady him, while the flow of blood helped to do so.
" Tom," said Sassafras, " you can win this yet. The other
horse is a good way ahead, but he is already sinking, and
tires at every stride. I think he'll very likely fall before he
gets home. St. Jo. is fresh, and will stand the pressure to the
end. Close up gradually. What do you call that last big
fence ?"
" Barker's Bullfinch."
" Very well ! creep up by degrees, keeping in powder enough
to close with him when he uears that. Your horse is much
the freshest. You are none the worse for the bath. You
know the lay of the land, and I think you'll win it yet. Be
cool and steady. When you believe that you hr.ve the race
safe cry Cinnamon's war-cry."
The young man nodded, and away he went with the White
Horse. For half a mile the people at the bridge could
still see the horses as they galloped over field after field and
took the fences, Belvoir with a large lead. Sassafras walked
to the bridge and took a station on the western pier on the
south side, looking steadily at the W hite Horse, who was going
with long and powerful strides. The relative positions of the
horses seemed to the crowd unchanged, and neither Lady Snaf-
fle nor May Bullfiuch had any hopes of final victory. The
experienced eye of Young Jack detected, however, that the
White Horse was gaining on the chestnut, and that Mr. Cop-
low was beginning to force his horse, and he said, " O, my
lady ! O, May ! he gains at every stride. He jumps as strong
and as well as he did at the first leap. If it were but a quar-
ter of a mile further he couldn't lose it, and there's a chance
as it is !"
" Chance, young squire ! I say it's a certainty," cried Rose
Tanner. ." Coplow '11 come down a reg'lar cropper at Bar-
ker's Bullfinch."
" I say, Rose, how do you know^ ?"
« Well, you see, I consults the stars.'*
The horses were now out of sight, having passed over a low
hill towards the northwest and the last half mile of the course.
382 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
The carriage remained upon the bridge, for there was such a
press of horsemen and foot people on the road beyond it that
it was almost impassable. Still the figure of the American
remained upon the pier, intent upon the northwest, and rigid
as a statue carved in granite. At length, over the hubbub
and clamor of the multitude, there rose from the distance a
wild, shrill, echoing cry, at which Lady Snafile started, and
Sassafras jumped to the ground.
" Oh, that fearful cry," said she. " Some other accident,
more dreadful, has happened."
" No, madam," said Sassafras. " 'Twas the warwhoop of the
wild Cheyennes, and Tom has victory in his grasp !"
" O, my lady ! I know it's true," said Young Jack. " It's a
great pity we couldn't see them take Barker's Bullfinch.
Please, my lady, let me take Wingfield's horse and go and see.
I'll be back with the news in two or three minutes."
Lady Snaffle would not consent to this, and they remained
in uncertainty for some time. Then pouring over the hill,
half a mile away, and stretching from one side of the field to
the other came a great throng of people on horseback and on
foot. Young Jack saw a group marching proudly, as it were,
in the centre of the liue.
" O, my lady, my lady ! O, May, my dear sister May ! It's
all right — there they come. Sassafras leads the White Horse,
my father rides on one side of him and Mr. Eansome on the
other. Tom's afoot — he leans upon Sir Jerry and Major Fitz-
gerald, and Lord Doomsday is with them. O, if we had only
seen them take Barker's Bullfinch I could die happy !"
" Better die game. Young Jack," said Kose Tanner, as she
marshalled aloug her brother with the donkey and the twins.
" If Tom had been drowned he would have died game. If
Coplow has broken his neck at the bullfinch he has died game."
Soon there came spurring by men on horseback, fiery hot
with haste, each intent on being first to carry the news to
Aylesbury, and shouting " Scarlet, Scarlet for ever ! Sir Jerry
and St. Jo. ! He won with his ears pricked."
" Thank God !" said May. " O, I hope Mr. Coplow is not
hurt."
" Home, home !" said Lady Snaflie, with her handkerchief
to her eyes.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 383
The carriage was wheeled around, and away it went, while
Young Jack said :
" Well, concerning Coplow — I'll lay two to one that it's
nothing serious. Some such slight matter as the collar-bone,
my lady, or a rib or two, and you know hunting men are used
to it. When father was brought home on a hurdle ten years
ago he said to the doctor, ' I'm all right. It's Cowslip that
I'm anxious about. If young Tom Scarlet will ride over to
Middleton for Kansome I shall be easy in my mind respecting
the mare.' "
The narrative of Master Bullfinch was interrupted by the
stoppage of the carriage. It soon appeared that Parkins was
in the road in such a condition that he might have taken him-
self up on the charge of being " drunk and incapable." He
had come to the steeple-chase provided with a bottle of gin,
and the greater part of this he had swallowed as soon as he
was hauled out of the stream by Rose Tanner's brother. He
was now brought to the wheel by a couple of young ragamuf
fin gypsies, who seemed to enjoy his plight very much.
" Parkins, what a condition," said Lady Snaffle, " for one in
your position ! You have been drinking."
" Yes, mum, madam, my lady, I has— about two gallons in
the bruk."
" Sir, you are intoxicated !"
« If water from the bruk will 'toxicate the authorities, my
lady, I may as well admit that I be."
"Sir, you are very drunk," said the lady with difficulty re-
pressing an inclination to laugh.
" I think not, my lady. I'll leave it to Master Bullfinch
and these gypsy boys. I was never drunk in my life, except
at harvest homes and such like gatherings, where no true man
keeps sober. I may be on this occasion a little gammoned,
but "
" Boys," said Lady Snaffle, " take him to the nearest farm-
house You shall be paid for doing so. Home ! home quickly !"
384 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
CHAPTER XL.
" Say, why are beauties praised and honored most,
The wise man's passion and the vain man's boast?
AVhy decked with all that land and sea afford,
Why angels called, and angel-like adored ?'•'
LADY SNAFFLE ^Yas with May Bullfinch before a bright
fire in a spacious drawing-room, handsomely furnished,
and adorned with fine paintings. They chiefly related to nau-
tical subjects, and to those landscapes of woodland, field and
stream which were, in a measure, connected with the turf and
chase. There was, however, none among them more beautiful
and pleasing than the picture presented by the elegant lady
and fair young girl who sat side by side and chatted pleasantly
over the cheerful blaze. Her ladyship was richly, though not
showily, attired, and in her soft armchair she evidently enjoyed
luxurious comfort and repose, and was well pleased with her-
self and every one else. She tapped the thick carpet with the
tip of the dainty slipper just visible beneath the late flounce
of her satin dress, and played with the costly ruffles that, fall-
ing over her fair hand, vied with the fretwork of the frost, or
the delicate tracery of white foam on the falling wave. If
there was any exception to the general satisfaction the lady
felt, it was caused by the fact, that she had been waiting for
her husband some time ; and this was a thing which the wife
of Sir Jerry Snaffle frequently had to do. On this occasion,
however, his delay had afforded an opportunity for a cosy con-
ference and conversation with May Bullfinch — a thing in which
her godmother took much pleasure. For some time nothing
was heard but the kind tones of the Baronet's lady, or the
rustle of her satin skirts, save the sweet voice of May in re-
ply ; but Young Jack then entered, and informed the lady
that Mr. Ransome had reached the Hall, on his way home to
Middleton. Lady Snaffle desired that he might be requested
to wait on her for a few minutes, and the trainer soon entered.
He was close shaven, booted and spurred, a model of neat-
ness, although but lately he had been bespattered with mud.
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 385
His face was thoughtful and keen, and there was a sort of
depth in his hazel eye, as if contemplating great things to come.
It was a look well becoming to the man who had in charge
the famous mares Trampoline and Cobweb. The former had
borne Glencoe, and the last-named had at her foot her mighty
son Bay Middleton. Young Jack looked up to the trainer
with profound respect ; his sister esteemed him as one of her
father's nearest friends ; Lady Snaffle held him in regard as a
man of worth and ability, confided in by Lord Jersey, and by
his countess. Ransome was a man who did honor to his pro-
fession, and though his name was seldom seen in the sporting
journals and magazines, as Lord Jersey's horses were sent to
New Market for their final preparation at the hands of Ed-
wards, he could not well have been spared from that worthy
and able fraternity. John Bullfinch had sometimes observed
to Lord Jersey, that all the ploughing, harrowing, sowing and
tending, was done by Ransome at Middleton, and Edwards
merely had to put the sickle in, and reap the harvest. To
this the earl usually replied, that what with the brood-mares,
sucking foals, yearlings and two-year-olds, Ransome had too
much to attend to at Middleton, to be spared for the purpose
of looking after the fortunes of two or three-year-olds. " And,
besides," the stout earl would say, " Lady Jersey would not
hear of it, Farmer Bullfinch ! Without Ransome at the park
she would never be satisfied when we are away."
Now, Lady Snafile was the most intimate country friend of
the illustrious countess, who had been one of the most brilliant
ornaments of two or three courts, and therefore the deference
shown by the trainer was only exceeded by the respect mani-
fested in every word and gesture of the baronet's wife."
" Oh, Mr. Ransome !" she said ; " such a day ! such events !"
" Wonderful, my lady ! glorious ! I would have given any-
thing if Lord Jersey and the countess had been here to see it !
We never had anything so good before. We have often had
great steeple-chases, with large fields of horses and much fine
riding, but never one that came up to this."
" What do the gentlemen say, Ransome ? and where is Sir
Jerry Snaffle ?" said her ladyship.
" The gentlemen have all gone to the Barleymow, my lady,
to talk over the events of the day! They are all much de-
25
886 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO X.
lighted — that is, all but a veiy few who lost on the race. That
class of the people never ought to bet, my lady. If they
win they crow and brag over it, as if they had brought the
thing off. If they lose, they grumble and look black, and
make insinuations. I am sure the Duke's horse was well
trained, and Mr. Coplow rode well."
" Never mind the grumblers, Kansome," said Lady Snaffle.
" We are very much pleased. I wish Lady Jersey had been
present, just to see a young man of her own neighborhood
ride. What is said of Mr. Scarlet ?"
"I just stayed to hear his health proposed, and help to do
honor to it, and then came away, my lady."
" Who proposed it, and how was it received ?"
"The Duke proposed it, my lady, in a beautiful little
speech. It was received with three hurrahs, such as the fox-
hunters can give. The Duke said Tom Scarlet's riding, after
the spill at the brook, was the finest thing he ever saw — a
mast<n^piece of art."
" May, my dear, you hear this ! The Duke of Jumpover
and Sir Jerry Snaffle are as good judges of noble horseman-
ship as any in England. I am so pleased !"
" So am I, my lady !" said Young Jack ; " and I know, too,
that the Duke and Sir Jerry are as good judges as Ransome
himself"
" Yes, indeed," said Lady Snaffle, with a smile. " And now,
Mr. Ransome, tell us what was said about the American."
" Something handsome, my lady, I'll warrant ; but I didn't
stay to hear it. There is but one opinion. Everybody likes
the man, when they come to know a little of him. I took to
him in two hours, for I found out that he had that sound
judgment and knowledge and love of horses that goes further
with me than anything else. My lady, he's a clever man.
He trained that AVhite Horse to perfection. I told them that
he couldn't be improved, as soon as I saw him go a four-mile
gallop. And Sassafras, to-day, dressed Tom Scarlet's head
with equal skill. He's a very clever man, my lady, and if
he was to set up in the surgical line about here, where a good
many broken heads and limbs are going, especially in the
holiday and hunting seasons, he would beat Doctor Dose all
h<jllow."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 387
« Was Mr. Scarlet's head hurt ?" said Lady Snaffle, gently
restraining May with a light hand on her arm.
" Badly cut by St. Jo.'s hoof when they were in the water,
which made Tom incapable, my lady ; but Sassafras has
dressed it with brandy and brown paper and a few drops of a
balsam he got from the Indians. It is now tied up in a red
silk handkerchief, and everybody is satisfied that it is a beau-
tiful case."
" Mr. Ransome, I am not so satisfied myself," said Lady
Snaffle, with promptitude. " TIk young man should have
been brought here. I dare say he was drinking ?"
"The doctor, my lady — meaning Sassafras! — said a little
would do him good, and Sir Jerry concurred in the opinion."
"It is just like the — sailors, I was going to say; but my
father, the Admiral, now that I remember, always prefers rum
to brandy for an injury to the head, to be taken as well as
applied. I shall send John with a message to Sir Jerry, re-
questing him to bring Mr. Scarlet here without delay."
"If your ladyship pleases," said Young Jack, "it will be
better to send 77ie instead of John. If John goes and delivers
the message, Sir Jerry will just say to him, 'Very well give
my compliments to her ladyship, and tell her we will be there
very soon !' and then, my lady, he'il just turn to the Duke
or the Major or Sir Harry or Lord Doomsday, and forget all
about it. But if I go, my Lady, I shall just say to Mr. Scar-
let, ' Tom you are desired by Lady Snaffle to come to the Hall
directly ; and. Sassafras, you are requested by my sister to see
that he does so, right away r "
" What's ' right away T " said Lady Snaffle, with a laugh.
" My lady, it is what I have heard Sassafras and Tom say.
It means forthwith, without delay, instanter."
"Your ladyship had better send Master Bullfinch than
John," said Mr. Ransome, laying his hand fondly on Jack's
head, " and I will see him mounted and started."
" Go, then. Master Bullfinch, and bring Mr. Tom Scarlet
and Mr. Sassafras here right aiuay r
With this Lady Snaffle made a graceful and gracious in-
clination to Ransome, and the latter with Young Jack left the
room.
" My dear," said Lady Snaffle, " your brother is a very nice,
388 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
clever boy — so prompt and alert. My father is much pleased
with him. The Admiral was always very fond of sharp boys,
and he wanted to place Master Bullfinch on board of a man-of-
war. He has i:)rofessional notions about boys, much better, he
says, than those of tutors and schoolmasters. We went once
to see a cousin of mine at a great school, and when we came
away I said : ' My dear father, I know you are pleased with
what we have seen. The young gentlemen are so well man-
nered, so well informed, so very nice and polite.' But he
said : * Pshaw ! Laura, there ought not to be any such thing
as a nice young gentleman ; there is no use for such a person
as a nice young gentleman. Here, now, has been a great waste
of capital material for reefers and topmen, which last are the
hardest to come by.' Reefers are midshipmen, May ; topmen
the sailors who 'handle the great sails and man the heavy
guns. And the Admiral added: 'Well-mannered, Laura!
Nothing to my boys, my young reefers on the quarter-deck of
a first-rate, especially when they had been mast-headed for
an hour or two. Every one of those boys could make a bow-
line knot, and look into the muzzles of the enemy's guns, in
broad-side or battery, without winking. Young gentlemen,
indeed !' But I said : ' My dear father, these young gentle-
men are getting a superior education.' And then, my dear,
he burst out : * Superior education ! Fiddlesticks and frying-
pans ! The place for a superior education, Laura, is the quar-
ter-deck of a fighting ship. Look at me! Your grandfather,
a very wise man, sent me aboard at ten years old. Racehorse
frigate — Sir Jerry's father was a reefer in her too. I should
never have been the man I am if I had gone to school ashore
— I know I shouldn't !' And I believe, my dear," Lady
Snaffle added, "that my father is quite right on that p»int."
The lady's reminiscences, touching the opinions and senti-
ments of the gallant Admiral Broadside, as good a man as
ever heard the rush of the round shot and the whistle of the
grape, were cut short by the announcement that the Admiral
had himself arrived, and he was ushered in attended by his
valet, a superannuated coxswain. The Admiral was tall
and portly, very red in the face, with white hair, bleached by
sixty years service at sea, and he walked with a limp fr(;m an
old wound which had shattered his left hip. He kissed his
daughter, shook bands with jMay Bullfinch and said :
THE WHITE HOUSE OF WOOTTON. 389
" Here I am, Lady Laura, arrived in the nick of time for
the steeple-chase."
" I wish you had seen it, papa," said Lady Snaffle.
" Seen it, child ! I'll warrant I saw more of it than you did.
Finding what was going on when we reached the hill, I stopped
the chaise, and by means of a rope and ladder Mainbrace and
I hoisted ourselves into the maintop of King's mill, where we
could survey everything with the good glasses we always tra-
vel with."
" O, dear papa, how dangerous ?"
" Dangerous ! nonsense ! No danger at all, unless the mill
had blown over, and it was not a reefing breeze. We saw
everything."
« Then you saw Tom Scanet's plunge."
" Ay ! ay ! They were nearly yardarm and yardarm, when
the chestnut horse broached-to, and falling aboard of the
White Horse, sent him in."
" We thought we had lost then, papa, and that the accident
might be fatal."
" Fatal ! It did him good — did him good, Laura. Not so
much as if it had been salt water, but some good. The man
who jumpad overboard after him is a gallant fellow, too. Who
is he?"
" An American, ray dear sir. A friend of Tom Scarlet's."
" Ay ! ay ! a sailor, no doubt. I knew he had been to sea,
by the way he hauled Tom up the west bank. No landsman
could have done it. But you did not see the finish, Laura. I
did. It was a stern chase, but Scarlet gradually overhauled
the other just this side of Barker's Bullfinch, and when he
ranged alongside he rose in his stirrups, flourished his whip,
and gave such a halloa as would do credit to the best boat-
swain in the service. ' Boarders away !' said Mainbrace ; and
boarders it was, for the White Horse shot ahead and went
through the bullfinch like a thirty-two pounder. Those who
came by the mill road said that the leap w^as measured and
found to be thirty-three feet in the clear."
" And Mr. Coplow, papa! did you see him jump it?"
" Lady Laura, I saw Coplow — if that's his name — brought
up all standing in the middle of it, and I am told that he is
hurt. Still, it isn't a man expended, for he has only a shoulder
dislocated and a few bruises. Now I'll go to my room."
390 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
Tom Scarlet, Sassafras and Young Jack soon arrived. They
were shown into the room, and, alter greetings and compli-
ments, Tom Scarlet informed Lady Snaffle that Sir Jerry and
the Duke, being very busy, could not leave the Barleymow
just at present, but would be there in the course of an hour.
He added that they were making a handicap for a steeple-
chase, to be run by the best twenty horses in their hunts, and
when the weights were satisfactory to the owners of them, they
would wait upon her ladyship.
" And when do you think that will be, Mr. Sassafras ?" said
Lady Snaffle, with a pleasant smile.
" Well, my lady, about this time next year, from what I
heard some of the owners say," replied Sassafras.
" Sir Jerry and the Duke told me they would be here in an
hour after we arrived, and desired me to wait for them," said
Tom Scarlet.
" I desire it myself, sir. I wish to hear of your adventures."
" My lady, they both want him to ride for them. Your
ladyship may depend that's it," said Young Jack.
" It may be the case ; I should not blame them after what
we saw to-day. But, Mr. Scarlet," continued Lady Snaffle,
" I find that you have not yet given an account of your ad-
ventures abroad and on the sqas, even to my dear daughter in
the church. May Bullfinch ; and now, if you please, as your
head does not pain you, we will hear the narrative. Mr.
Sassafras, I delight in narratives of adventure — my father is a
sailor— reefer at ten years old in the Racehorse frigate —
afterwards an admiral— Rear- Admiral of the Blue ! I believe
you are a sailor, sir."
" No, my lady, that's Cox, the man who brought the totem
over," replied Sassafras. " I did once, however, go upon a
trip in search of a small island, near the Grand Cayman,
where the buccaneers buried a lot of gold."
" Did you find it. Sassafras ?" said Young Jack.
" Well, we did and we didn't ! We found the island as
laid down by the bearings, but not the gold. My lady, it was
a sort of Mother Carey's chicken expedition — what you may
call, Miss Bullfinch and Master Bullfinch, a wild-goose chase !"
"Mother Carey's chicken! O, yes. May, the name the
sailors have given to the stormy petrel, a bird never seen near
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 391
the land, nor in fair weather. Now, Mr. Scarlet, let us hear
of your voyages to and fro, your travels by land, moving acci-
dents by flood and field, and so on."
" My lady, I've heard it myself, and Sassafras having been
engaged, knows it all," said Young Jack ; " so if your lady-
ship will permit us to go into the library, Sassafras can tell
me about the expedition after the hoard of the buccaneers, and
about Cinnamon and the Sioux, and the bears."
" Very well. Master Bullfinch, as you please. I suppose
Mr. Sassafras is too bashful to hear his own exploits related
by his friend to the ladies."
Young Jack ushered his American friend into the library,
and they established themselves before the fire, in large, high-
backed chairs, lined with soft green leather. In about an
hour Lady Snaffle had heard Tom Scarlet's account of his
adventures, and leaving him and May to discourse of love,
she proceeded to the library. She found Young Jack and
Sassafras engaged in animated conversation, the former speak-
ing clear and shrill, and the latter replying with a deep, hearty
voice. Neither heard her soft footfall on the yielding carpet,
and she could not help hearing and being amused by what was
said. It was as follows :
Young Jack. — " Then, as Cinnamon is the best hunter and
the boldest warrior that you have ever heard of, tell me what
he is just like as a man.".
Sassafras. — " You mean in appearance. He is tall, and finely
formed for strength, activity and endurance, dark in color even
for an Indian, and not much given to fine clothes. He likes
his war-paint best ; and his is black and crimson. He is a
capital horseman."
Young Jack. — " But I mean, what is he like in disposition ?"
Sassafras. — " O ! Well, he's just like one of us — Tom Scar-
let and your father and me. There's no diflference between a
good Indian and a good white man in natural disposition.
They are alike, but in different circumstances, and affected by
different belongings."
Young Jack. — " Do you mean to say that the wild Indian
chief of the plains and Rocky Mountains is like my father ?"
Sassafras. — In disposition ? yes — very much like him ! And
in courage, generosity and simple nobility of character he'a
392 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
just like Sir Jerry Snaffle and this Duke. Now, don't go and
tell Lady Snaffle I said this, for I want her good opinion, and
ladies are naturally prejudiced against Indians from hearing
that the warriors maltreat their wives. It isn't the real truth ;
but then there's a color for the assertion, especially as regards
the bands who loaf about the settlements and get drunk."
Lady Snaffle was about to come forward and speak, but
Young Jack went on with great animation.
Young Jack. — " You will, of course, tell Cinnamon all about
us, when you and he arrange for the presents to be sent over ?"
Sassafras. — " Oh, he's heard about the most prominent. The
chief understands a hundred times as much English as he can
speak, and he heard Tom Scarlet and Frangois talking by the
hour about your sister and your father and Sir Jerry and Lady
Snaffle."
Young Jack. — "And about me, too?"
Sassafras. — " No doubt you were mentioned ; but, you see,
the Indians think nothing of a boy until he has killed an elk,
a bear or a buffalo, or drawn blood from a man. But he'll
hear a good deal about you when I meet him again, and as
Miriam's your staunch friend, she'll fix the chief for you when
she sees him."
Young Jack. — " Ay ! but the mention of me to the chief
will come best, in the first place, from you. Sassafras, because
you were on the war-path with him against the Sioux. But
now tell me — as Cinnamon has heard about Sir Jerry and
Lady Snaffle — let me know what he thinks about my lady.
He may be a little prejudiced, too, you know."
Sassafras. — "The d — 1 a bit. Young Jack! I never heard
him say v;hat he thinks of her. I dare say nobody else ever
did. It is not his custom to speak of such things. He's a
man of few words, very few."
Young Jack. — " I know ! like Mr. Southdown — but he talks
as much as anybody else when he feels inclined, and is no way
backward of giving his mind about other people."
Sassafras. — " I never heard Cinnamon say anything of Lady
Snaffle, but I can tell well enough what he thinks of her.
She is to him just about what the Queen Adelaide of England
is to the chiefs and head men of the tribes north of the Cana-
dian line. He pictures her as something great, beautiful and
good ; and he's right !"
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 393
The lady had heard too much to speak now, and yet she
couki not retreat. A blush of pleasure, but something of em-
barrassment mingled with it, mantled on her cheeks and tinged
her neck. She knew not what to do, and the conversation be-
tween the others went on.
Young Jack. — " I may tell her ladyship what you say about
that Sassafras."
Sassafras. — " No ! no ! not on any account ; but it's all true,
though."
Young Jack. — " I will tell May."
Sassafras. — " We will compromise this matter. You shall
tell your sister after I am gone. If you must tell somebody
before then, tell Tom Scarlet and Miriam."
Young Jack. — " What's the use of that, when they know it
already ? But now as to those presents — I am not to be for-
gotten."
Sassafras. — " O, no ! You shall be remembered."
Young Jack. — " A pair of elks for Sir Jerry and Lady
Snaffle; another pair for the Duke and Duchess; a buffalo
bull and cow for my father ; but the bear, the great grizzly
bear, is to be sent to me ? Remember that. Sassafras."
Sassafras. — " The elk and the buffalo will be all right. We
could send a small drove of each, upon a pinch, if there was
ship room. But a great grizzly bear is an ugly customer
aboard, and the cotton ships roll so. I'm thinking that you
had better have a cinnamon bear. It's more rare, more hand-
some, and, I reckon, more of a curiosity in natural history."
Young Jack (with discontent and vexation). — " Sassafras, a
cinnamon bear won't do for me. I don't want a handsome
bear. I don't care about natural history. I read the natural
history of this country, and a good deal of it is all humbug.
I want a great grizzly bear, like the one you and Cinnamon
killed at the pass of the Rocky Mountains."
Sassafras. — " I see you know it all. Master Bullfinch. AVell,
Cinnamon and I must have a pow-wow over it, and by bring-
ing in Pierre Langlois and his agents at Orleans, I dare say it
can be done."
Youiu Jack. — " Thank you. Sassafras. And if you want to
send over any animal for its beauty, send it to Meg South-
down. A very nice girl. Sassafras — she nearly fell out of the
394 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
windmill to-day, while lookiDg at Tom's riding. And, Sassa-
fras, there is one thing more I want to say."
Sassafras. — " Very well, say it ! I like to hear you talk."
Young Jack — " \Vheu you are married to Miriam, and have
reached your plantation at St. Jo., she will be four or five
thousand miles from all her relatives and old acquaintances
and friends. But we shall be glad for all that, Sassafras ; be-
cause we shall know that, come what, come may, you will
always love her and cherish her. Miriam has always been a
good girl. I know the gypsies well, and I am sure of it."
Sassafras (red in face, and with lightning in the eyes). — " O,
Young Jack ! there's more gold in your heart than the bucca-
neers buried near the Grand Cayman. O, my boy! you shall
have the big bear, if I'm obliged to come over to bring him my-
self!"
The Western man grappled the English lad to him with a
Bort of fond hug, and as he did so Lady Snaffle retreated
towards the door. Sassafras rose, and began to apologize,
although he did not know for what. But the lady then came
forward with a smile, as though she had but lately entered,
and extending her hand said : " I have heard of your gal-
lantry. May I, too, call you friend ?"
It is very likely that Sassafras felt more overcome just then
than he had ever done at the warwhoop of the Sioux and
Blackfeet ; for even Young Jack was either unable to understand
what he said in reply to the baronet's lady, or he had, when
questioned by his sister May and by Miriam Cotswold, unac-
countably forgotten it.
CHAPTER XLI.
■ We were very, very merry,
As we went to the ferry,
For all our men were drinking j
There were three men of mine,
Two of thine, and three more
Men were belonging
To old Sir Thorn of Lyne,
And all our men were drinking.'
WHEN the company at the Barleymow broke up on the
evening of the day on which the steeple-chase was run,
not a few of them were in case to sing the old catch quoted
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 395
above. Still, they were steady on their legs and in their sad-
dles, for the sportsmen and three-bottle men of that age were
not easily shaken. Sir Jerry Snaffle was accompanied to the
Hall by the Duke of Jumpover, Sir Harry Plowden and Major
Fitzgerald. Lord Doomsday excused himself; but from John
Bullfinch and Mr. Southdown, old and opulent tenants of his
own, and freeholders in their own right, the Baronet would
take no denial. Lady Snaffle received them, and the Duke,
advancing, said : " I am requested, by many gentlemen, to
thank your ladyship for honoring us with your presence at the
steeple-chase to-day. We were all much gratified. The pres-
ence of the ladies on such occasions is always appreciated."
" The ladies, your Grace, are pleased with the sports in
which our countrymen delight and excel. At steeple-chases
there are few, for but a small part of them is usually to be
seen. On the flat, however, we take the field in force ; and
while we rejoice in the success of our favorites, our regrets
do not last very long when they lose. I was never before so
excited as on this occasion. At one time Miss Bullfinch and
I wished ourselves away. At the brook it was a fearful scene
for a few moments, and we feared the worst, my Lord Duke ;
but in the instant of great peril we saw Mr. Scarlet rescued
by the strength and skill of his friend here. It was grand,
but terrible."
" It was, my lady ; and no one rejoiced in the safety of Mr.
Scarlet more than I," said the Duke ; " but I hardly bargained
for the defeat of my horse afterwards. The presence of mind,
judgment and resolution of Mr. Scarlet, displayed after the
accident, equalled the daring of his friend at the moment of
his danger."
" And were a good deal more difficult to command, your
grace," said Sassafras.
" I dare say they were, for I understand feats of daring and
perilous adventure have been frequent with you. Mr. Scar-
let's splendid riding at the finish routed me. All is lost but
honor, Lady Snaffle. I have lost the stakes to Sir Jerry, a
hogshead of Burgundy to Major Fitzgerald and a hundred
ounces of gold to Sassafras."
" But not your good humor, duke," said the major. " Now
there is a party from Melton gone ofi" in the sulks on account
396 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
of two hundred guineas I won of him. He had said some-
thing about the bad taste of gentlemen acting as stewards who
had bets on the event, and but for Sir Jerry I should have
requested him to explain what he meant, in which case an invi-
tation to a morning walk in one of the sequestered glades of
Wootton woods might have followed. But 'twas a glorious
day, my lady ; a Waterloo for our hunt. I would have lost
my other arm sooner than have missed it."
" A loss we could not afford, major," said Lady Snaffle.
" What would the ladies do if you had no 'longer an arm to
offer?"
" Your ladyship is right, as you always are. I need it for
the service of the ladies, and for the reaching of me glass of
wine or punch."
There had been some general conversation, during which
Mr. Southdown and Young Jack had got Sassafras a little on
one side, and were putting questions touching bufialo bulls,
bears and Indians, when Lady Snaffle crossed to Sir Jerry and
said something in a low tone.
"By all means! It is kind and proper," said the baronet.
Lady Snaffle turned to Sassafras and said : " There is a
young person I should like to see soon — this evening, if pos-
sible. I mean Miriam Cotswold. If she is at hand, with your
permission, I will send for her."
" My lady, she was on the road, in a gig, with her uncle,"
said Young Jack. " The camp is in the hollow, close to Sir
Jerry's ash spinney."
" I am grateful to your ladyship," said Sassafras. " A few
words of counsel and encouragement from your ladyship will
cheer her and do her good."
" Then I will send John."
" If your ladyship please," said Young Jack, loud and brisk,
" it will be better to send me. The gypsies do not know John,
and he does not know them. I know them all, men, women,
lasses and children — from Dark Janet's mother to Rose Tan-
ner's twins."
There was a laugh from the gentlemen and Lady Snaffle
smiled. The man of few words rose with much gravity, and
standing at his full height, with his great bulk displayed, he
prepared to address her ladyship. At any other time he would
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 397
not have ventured upon a speech to her, but he had virtually
nominated Sir Jerry for the county, and what was more he had
imbibed a great many glasses of gin and water at the Barley-
mow.
"My lady," said Mr. Southdown, " the gentlemen laughed
at what Young Jack said, but it is really no laughing matter.
Among the gypsies there are some rum customers, as the keep-
ers and constables find. Now, Young Jack knows them all,
and he is a good boy. Sassafras, my lady, a man of large ex-
perience in boys and what not, agrees with me in this."
Her ladyship bowed, and looked archly at the Duke, then
with a smile at May Bullfinch and Tom Scarlet. The latter
was rather red in the face, and John Bullfinch had attempted
to pull Mr. Southdown back. But the man of few words stood
like a tower, and went on :
" I say, my lady, that Jack's suggestion is good, and it isn't
the first time that one of the Bullfinches has aided this house
in council or battle. On the monument to the four baronets
of this family who were killed in the wars of the Koses, it is
stated that when they mar^-hed to battle along with the stout
Earl of Warwdck, the Bullfinches always Vvent with 'em hun-
dreds strong."
"Southdown, you are right ; the family is as old as my own
in the county," said Sir Jerry.
" I know^ I'm right ; my mind's made up on the p'int, your
honor. If it was not, I should not venture to go on in this
way to her ladyship. The Bullfinches being of a good old
family, and John being a tenant of Sir Jerry's, as well as hold-
ing his own farm of Hawk'ell, when May was christened your
ladyship stood godmother to her. When Young Jack was
christened I stood godfeyther to him. A year after that my
youngest daater, Meg "
" Margery, Mr. Southdow^n, a beautiful old English name,"
said Lady Snaffle.
" Yes, her mother and sisters call her Margery, but 1 call
her Meg, my lady, and so does Young Jack. When Meg was
christened, John Bullfinch stood godfeyther to her. Well, my
lady and gentlemen all, what naturally follows ? Sassafras,
as good a man as ever put boot in stirrup, means to marry
Miriam Cotswold. Tom Scarlet, another out-and-out good man,
means to "
398 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
Lady Snaffle interposed and prevented the grazier from com-
pleting the sentence.
" Well, then, my lady," said he, " I'll come to the real p'int.
Here's Young Jack ! as good a boy as ever was — capital rider,
and the best judge of the p'ints of a horse or a bullock, of his
age, in these Midland counties. They may have boys in Lun-
non who know more, or in Oxford college."
" Sir, they have got none who know any more anywhere,
except aboard the men-of-war," said the Admiral, stalking in
with Mainbrace in close attendance. " My sentiments on this
subject are well known to my daughter, Lady Snaffle, also to
Sir Jerry, whose father went to sea at fourteen in the Sea-
horse. I was ten."
"Very well. Admiral and my lady, and gentlemen all,
Young Jack being an excellent boy — pattern to the youth of
the country side, and a real good bred 'un, and my youngest
daater Meg being a good girl, comely lass, and so on, my mind's
made up. -John BuUiineh's mind's made up. So is my wife's.
If your ladyship has no objection, when the young people
come to years of — of what you call it "
" Discretion," said Young Jack.
"Ay, to years of discretion, their minds will be made up."
Lady Snaffle shook Mr. Southdown's hand and patted Young
Jack on the head, whereupon the grazier said, " I was agoing
to say something touching the wedding between "
"Meg and me?" said Young Jack.
" No, between May and Tom Scarlet, who "
Mr. Southdown was here interrupted by John Bullfinch,
and he concluded somewhat abruptly by recommending that
Young Jack should be sent for Miriam.
" And for company's sake, if Lady Snaffle pleases, I will go
with him," said Sassafras.
" A moment," said the Duke. " When you return from the
camp I shall be gone. Before you leave England I should
like to show you my horses and hounds. Visit me. I will
mount you well. Do you know that you are unlike the Amer-
icans of books and of the stage ?"
" Duke, I never met a man in America, or anywhere else,
who was not unlike them, and Tom Scarlet will say the same,"
replied Sassafras. " That which I have seen in books and on
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 399
the stage, as the language and manners of Americans at home
is just about as much like them as what goes on in the Punch
and Judy show is like life as I see it here in England. Be-
sides, there is fun in the Punch and Judy, but none in this
kind of books and acting."
" I suspect you are right in that."
" If your Grace and Sir Jerry Snaffle could visit America
and join me at St. Jo., we might have fine sport among the elk
and buffalo, to say nothing of the bears, which are large and
fierce. With Cinnamon and some of his young men for guides
and escort, we could hunt the parks of the E,ocky Mountains,
and shoot where a white man has hardly ever fired a rifle
shot."
« I thank you. Sassafras," said the Duke. " The offer is a
tempting one, but we should find it almost impossible to spare
the time. Visit me if you can, and be assured I shall always
wish you well."
After a drive of four or five miles in one of Sir Jerry
Snaffle's numerous vehicles. Sassafras and Young Jack drew
up near the camp. The tents were pitched and the fires were
blazing brightly in a sheltered glen, bounded on one side by a
thick growth of young ash trees, on the other by clumps of
gorse. Sassafras jumped out, and at the same moment two or
three young gypsies, the scouts of the tribe, came out of the
fern and underwood and saluted him with a sort of shy defer-
ence as he passed on towards the tent of their chief.
About half an hour later he reached the Hall with Miriam
and Young Jack. Lady Snaffle's footman received them, and
in a few minutes her maid advanced to conduct Sassafras and
Miriam to her ladyship's cabinet. The lady's maid was a
brunette, rather small, but with a well-rounded and graceful
figure, handsome features, and deep, black eyes. She was a
favorite of Lady Snaffle's. In fact, this young girl had been
brought up at the Hall. Her grandfather, a sailor, who had
married a Spanish girl in the Indies, had been killed at the
battle of the Nile. The widow and her daughter found
refuge on the Admiral's estate when Lady Snaffle was a girl.
The daughter married one of the Admiral's coxswains, a
younger man than Maiubrace, and Miss Kitty Puffle was their
child. What passed in Lady Snaffle's cabinet in the presence
400 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
of May BullfiDch, Miriam Cotswold and Sassafras, the lady's
maid did not know. Slie assured the hou.sekeeper, the cook
and the butler, however, that the interview must have been
very touching as well as long, for when Sassafras and Miriam
came out it was plain that she had been crying. She was
then, however, calm again, and looking very well content and
happy. "And the American," Miss Ruffle continued, "looked
very much pleased. As indeed he ought to be. for he will
have the countenance of my lady in marrying, he owns an
estate of hundreds of acres in America — thousands, Master
Bullfinch says — and he has won a hundred ounces of gold
from the Duke."
" Then, miss, he ought to be ashamed of himself," said the
butler.
Later in the evening Lady Snaffle inquired of Sir Jerry
where he had left her father. " My lady," said Sir Jerry,
" the Admiral has left me, and taken the Major with him.
He sent for the tojDman Cooper, and the sailor Cox, and is
now in his room expounding the rules of the service and
fighting the Battle of Trafalgar over a huge bowl of rum-
punch compounded by his man."
CHAPTER XLII.
"Through the house give glimmering light.
By the dead and drowsy fire,
Every elf and fairy sprite
Hop as light as bird from brier."
"Thus passeth yere by yere, and day by dav.
Till it fell once, in a morne of May."
"When the merry bells ring round,
And the jockund rebecks sound
To many a youth and many a maid
Dancing in the chequer'd shade."
ONCE again stout John Bullfinch sat in his great arm-
chair, alone, near the middle watch of the night. His
daughter, May, the good, the fond, the bright, the beautiful,
was to be married the next day, and John was full of thought
and reflection. He recalled all the stages of her growth and
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 401
being, from infancy and prattling, toddling childhood to that
very hour — that budding hour of womauhood, when she was
so like her mother, as he had courted and married her more
than twenty years before. The same sweet face and wealth of
clustering hair ; the same lithe, rounded figure ; the same glad
and kind disposition. The fire had dwindled low upon the
hearth, and all was still. The great mastiff. Fury, sat upon
her haunches, and with her deep-set eyes looked up into her
master's face, as though she knew they were about to part with
the Rose of Hawk'ell — the one fair daughter of the brave old
house. She put her head upon the farmer's knee, and when
the clock struck twelve uttered a low growl, as if to protest
against the interruption of the solemn silence. Soon she rose
^nd walked gravely and silently to the door. The farmer, follow-
ing, opened it. The light of the May moon and the song of the
nightingale from the bosky blackthorn grove came rushing
into the house. A step was heard, and then John Bullfinch
saw the erect form of the keeper, as he came along by the
hawthorn hedge.
" Dick, this is kind, very kind and thoughtful !" said John,
as they passed into the house.
" I thought," said Moleskin, putting his gun gently down,
"that you might not object to see an old friend of the family
to-night. To-morrow there will be many people here."
" Nobody who'll be more welcome than you, Dick."
The keeper shook John's hand, and there was a curious
movement of the muscles about the mouth and at the corners
of his eyes, as if the cast-irou visage was being acted on by
the heat and glow within.
" Having made my rounds and found all reasonably safe,"
said he, " I determined to walk over here. I never sleep 'o
nights. When you go to bed I shall keep ward here, and can
call you betimes for the preparations of the morning."
" I have no inclination for bed," said John. " I have been
sitting here listening to the ticking of the clock, and thinking
of all May's life and pretty ways, and what she has been to
me, and everybody else in this house, since the sad day I lost
her mother. You know she is just like her mother ; and it
almost seems as if I was going to lose her over again. Yet
26
402 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
there's no reason to doubt May's happiness with Tom Scarlet,
is there ?"
" None at all. My opinion is, that they'll be very happy.
She has that winning way with her that'll always prevail
with him ; and mark my words, John, she'll rule her hus-
band ! Therefore, they'll be very happy."
" Sir," said John, " you speak like an ignorant old bachelor."
" Very likely. I tell you I conclude that happy will be
their lot, from the fact that she'll rule him. The lightest
touch on the bridle and he'll obey the bit. No more saunter-
ing and dawdling along by the cover sides o' moonlight nights
when the leverets play and the pheasants crow upon the
larches. No going out w'ith Gypsy Jack and Rose Tanner's
man to dig out badgers. No more goings off to America*
without so much as by your leave. Still, I can understand'
your feelings. She will be looked up to hereafter more as
Tom's wife than your daater. The preserve is poached into,
you see. On the other hand we may say, * A mantrap has gone
off, and he's caught for life.' That's how things stand, eh ?"
" Another time I should have been angry," said John.
" Mantrap !"
" If you could get into a passion and blo'V somebody up
sky-high, it would do you good," said the keeper. " Where's
Young Jack ?"
" He went up-stairs with May. They went hand in hand,"
replied John. " I heard them talking since, and was twice at
the stair-foot, softly. I wouldn't have stopped them in their
conversation for the world. It was all about me, Dick. The
boy mentioned Tom, once or twice, as near as I could make
out, but May's talk was of her father ?"
" It was natural," said the keeper. " She is about to leave
you, in a measure ; and her heart clings to her father, though
she is about to have a husband to cleave to. Then a woman
can have but one father ; whereas, though I dare say it never
occurred to May, she may have two or three husbands before
she has done."
" If you talk like that I would prefer to be alone again,"
said John.
" Sitting here all alone, in the middle of the night, has not
been good for you," said Moleskin. " It has made you mel-
ancholy."
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 403
" Serious, but uot melancholy," replied John. " It did not
appear to me that I was alone. My children were above-stairs,
and I felt as though the spirit of their mother, my wife, was
near — come back to comfort me, and be as a guardian angel
to her daughter at this time. You will think this a strange
fancy of mine, but I had it strong."
" Not so strange," replied Moleskin. " I am myself a lonely
man, and pass many nights in the still woods or over the em-
bers in the solitary lodge ; yet it often seems at such times that
I am not all alone. Considering what a good woman — one
of ten thousand — your wife was, and how she loved you and
her children with all her heart, I think that at this time she
may be near."
There was a silence of some minutes after this, broken by
John Bullfinch :
" You mustn't leave the house in the morning. There will
be people enough about, but I want you and Ransome ; he is
to be here to breakfast. Southdown will not come so early,
but his wife and daughters will drive over betimes, to take
charge of May. Mrs. Hickman and Mary will also be here."
" I have come to stay," said the keeper. " My best things
are in the pockets of this shooting-coat, and ten minutes in
your room will be all I shall want. But now about Tom —
how does he seem to stand it?"
" Wonderful ! wonderful !" said John. " He was here till
ten, and would have stayed till now, mayhap, if he had had
his own way. He's very cool and pleasant, and not at all
bashful."
" He never was, that I know of," said the keeper.
" Yes, he was ; not in a general way, but I remember when
he would sit and look at May, and have never a word to say
to her, though he could talk glib enough to me. I think he's
a little disappointed, because Sassafras couldn't stay. I would
give a twenty-pound ijote myself to have him here."
" To my mind, he's just as well away," said Moleskin. ''The
man himself is a good man, straightforward in manner and
{action — word as good as bond ; but "
"But w^hat, sir? I like the man, and you had better not
let Southdown hear you say anything against him. If you
do, you'll find that his mind is made up."
404 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO K.
" The man himself is a man I would trust anywhere," said
Moleskin, " even in the best preserves in October, though he's
a dead shot, and could cut a pheasant down with a rifle ball
off the tallest roost, every time ; but I can't answer for some
of his cronies. As long as he was here I had little rest.
Gypsies, roving sailors, and other fellows, whose presence
bodes no good to the health of the game, were always straying
about. Out of respect for Sir Jerry and you, and considering
that he was well liked by the ladies, I said nothing ; but that
gypsy camp was here too long at one time. Then that Cox
and Jim Cooper, instead of going off to blue-water and stay-
ing there, as they promised to do, they comes to an anchor, as
they called it, in this neighborhood, and got three or four
more like themselves, drinking and skylarking, and setting a
bad example generally. When the American went the whole
covey took wing. The American was well enough. I liked
him. He had a very true eye, and the proper insight into the
ways of birds and animals ; but he was not up to the nature
of our English scamps."
"It could hardly be expected," said John. "He associated
with no one, to speak of, except Tom and Southdown, and you
and me."
" Didn't he ! I say that when occasion offered, or chance
threw them in his way, he was well met by every poacher,
fighter and loose-liver in these parts. I never told you of the
supper they gave him at the Running Horse, over by Heyford
Leys. I have it from Lord Jersey's keeper that every known
scamp in Buckinghamshire, Oxfordshire, Northamj^tonshire
and Warwickshire was present. That fellow Tom Barton had
come up from Warwickshire Avith one Ford, who has been in
America — known |X)acher3 both, as the keepers of the Duke
of Grafton and Lord Southampton are well aware. After
being introduced to Sassafras, this fellow Barton proposed that
they should do honor to the Crown an^ to Major Fitzgerald
and the Admiral, by being presided over by the Army and
Navy. So they put the recruiting sergeant of the Fusileers
into the cheer. If he had only enlisted the company there
and then, it would have been a good thing. Jim Tanner was
vice-president, and the fun was fast and furious. The fact is
they drank everything the landlord had in the house, and at
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 405
break of day brought off a little battle, for a sovereign a side,
between two of the Serjeant's new recruits. The keeper at
Middleton says that, next to the American, the most respect-
able man in the room was Jack Cotswold."
" Wasn't Tom Scarlet present ?" said John.
" He was not. You'll observe that since his engagement to
your daughter was made public, and the wedding generally
spoken of, he has been at your house every night."
" It is true," said John, rising. " Now, Dick, I'll go to bed.
Call me, softly, at break of day."
" Break of day will be here in no time."
" The sooner the better. Call me at the earliest flushing of
the dawn."
Morning bright and beautiful ! A flitting up and down of
beauties just as bright, about the young bride's chamber. Mrs.
Southdown and her two eldest daughters had arrived in fine
array. Mrs. Hickman and pretty Mary had come in brave
attire. And there were other ladies and young maidens,
pretty and fluttering, talking in hasty half whisperings. The
toilet of the bride began. One of Sir Jerry Snafiie's carriages
drove up and the housekeeper and lady's maid stepped out of
it. The old lady, stifl' and stately in brocade, curtesied with
antique ceremony to the other ladies as she entered the bride's
room. Miss Ruflle miuced daintily in, and with sparkling
eyes surveyed aud comprehended everything. The brides-
maids, already dressed, and much too elegant and helpless to
be of assistance to their principal, were favored with a nod
of approval. The other ladies, endeavoring by advice and
counsel to direct Patty, the housemaid, in her feeble efforts
to bind and compel May's luxuriant tresses, were not so re-
warded, for Miss Ruflle stared and said, " O !"
Had Mrs. Southdown been gifted with the powers of her
husband, she would, no doubt, have replied to this exclama-
tion ; but she was not. Besides, the stout and rosy lady w^as
" worrited" about her youngest daughter, who had been left
at home by her father's express command, to come with him.
Mrs. Southdown had remonstrated, and pointed out the fact,
that Margery was the fourth and youngest bridesmaid, but
her husband had replied : " My mind's made up ! John Bull-
finch will never let his daater leave for the church before I
get there."
406 THE WRITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK.
So, uuable to reply to Miss Euffle's exclamation, Mrs. South-
down stood ^Yith a ribbon in one hand and a frill in the other,
and looked at the black-eyed invader. She had not long to
look, for by virtue of certain pearls, certain laces, certain
wreaths, certain satin shoes, etc., derived from Lady Snaffle,
" lessor of the plaintiff," as Mr. Doublefee would have called
her. Miss Kuffle brought her action of ejectment, Kitty Doe v.
Rachel Roe et al., and, taking possession of the bride, pro-
ceeded to adorn her according to her own art and mystery.
Mr. Southdown pulled up his gig at Hawkwell, near a
group of about half a dozen of the cousins of John Bullfinch,
who were standing in the morning sunshine, talking, not of
bridals, but of the condition of the crops and the state of the
markets. They were florid, festive-looking men, with the large
noses and strong jaws of the family ; all were booted and
spurred, and all had nosegays of Mayflowers in their button-
holes. John Bullfinch, Ransome and Moleskin had rushed
out at the sight of the gig, and they exclaimed, cousins and
all, " Late, Southdown !" as he pulled up.
" Late be hanged ! I shan't argey the p'int ! I ain't late,
but still I see no use in wasting time in argeymeut," said Mr.
Southdowm, taking John's arm and striding to the door. " I
saw Sir Jerry's carriage ; he and Lady Snaffle will be at the
church."
He forgot all about his daughter Margery, youngest and
fairest of the Southdown flock, who was left sitting in the gig.
But Young Jack, very smartly dressed, as he had been from
an early hour, came forward. The maiden took his hands and
jumped out, bounding up about a foot when her toes came to
the ground, and laughing gleefully.
" 1 was so disappointed when your mother and sisters came
without you," said Jack.
" Were you ? O, dear ! how smart you are !"
"To be sure ! We will walk together, you know."
" Yes, we will. I've been so put about. The dresses didn't
come home until late last evening. My sisters— mind, this is
a secret— couldn't sleep, and got up in the night to try theirs
on. This morning there was such a time. It was Margery
here, Margery there, and they were so long, that they had
to go before I could be dressed. I had no one to help me dress
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 407
but our maids Dolly and Jane, but we managed it, with father
storming at the stair-foot. How do I look, Jack ?"
" Beautifid ! charming ! You'll beat all but May, I can tell
you," said he, as the laughing maiden spun round, and shook
her muslin flounces.
" Shall we go in now ?" said she.
" No," replied Young Jack.- " We'll just step to the stables :
I want to show you something I have got there. Mind, it is
a secret !"
" What ! is the bear come. Jack ?"
"Why, no. There hasn't been time yet. Sassafras isn't
much more than landed in America. Come along."
Miss Margery was picking her way upon the tips of her
slippers, by Young Jack's side, when a housemaid came down
upon theni full sail, ribbons and frills below and aloft, crying,
" Miss Margery ! Miss Margery Southdown !"
" I say, Meg !" roared the grazier from the parlor window,
and the maiden stopped in dismay. The housemaid, red as
her own ribbons, said, " Lord bless us, miss ! Your ma and
sisters be in such a taking. The bride's dressed ! The bride-
groom and his young men are here ! The ladies are a'most
ready to come down stairs, and you a rambling round with
young master !"
The gentlemen stood near the parlor door. There was the
whisper of voices, the rustle of muslin and silk above, and down
came the bevy about the young bride. May, leaning on her
father's arm, passed out, and as she crossed the threshold her
hand was laid upon the great head of the wise, faithful mastiff.
Fury. Mrs. Southdown followed with Tom Scarlet, who looked
like a lord, as the servant maids declared. Then the brides-
maids, and at a little distance a lot of friends. It was a walk
of more than a mile to the church. On the bush at the gar-
den gate merrily piped the linnet. On the plum-tree bough,
all among the blossoms, the goldfinch made sweet music. All
along the spangled hedgerows of the pasture-land bullfinches
flew and whistled loud and clear, in salutation to their name-
sake, the bride. The young colts and heifers stopped in their
frisky gambols to stare at her. Over her head the skylark
sang" a dropping from the sky." And she was beautiful? In
her fair face mingled the blooming badges of two lines of kings,
for —
408 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
" The ted and the white rose
As all the country knows.
Were the emblems of the foes
In a long and bloody strife I"
They rose the hill, and over the elms of the old churchyard
came the merry peal of the marriage bells from the stout stone
tower. Sir Jerry and Lady Snaffle met them at the church
door and walked up the main aisle to the chancel with them.
The Rev. Mr. Jericho was ready. The church was full. The
housekeeper, the cook, and the ladies' maid from the Hall
were in a front pew in the gallery, from which all the proceed-
ings could be seen. The cook was eloquent over the beauty
of the bride, the handsome face and fine figure of the bride-
groom, with a few remarks upon the bridesmaids. The cere-
mony was over! " Fast bind, fast find." Tom Scarlet and
May Bullfinch were man and wife. " He has kissed her !"
said the cook. " So has her father ! so has Sir Jerry !"
*' The idea of mentioning it, ma'am," said the ladies' maid.
**Why not? It is proper and customary, my dear — the
kissing of the bride — to a certain extent ; and so you'll find
when your turn comes. What next!" she added, hastily.
" Of all the boys of that age, for coolness he bears the bell."
"What boy, ma'am ? and what has he done?"
" What boy ! why, Young Jack. He'll come to the altar
himself — that I plainly see — and before long. As he paced
down the aisle, as large as life, with Meg Southdown on his
arm, he cocked his head to one side, and winked up here."
"Shocking! the audacity?" said Miss Ruffle. "If he had
a mamma she should be told of it. I have a great mind to
tell Lady Snaffle."
"You had better not," said the housekeeper. "I have
found Master Bullfinch a very well-behaved youth, and my
lady has often said as much. There must have been a mistake
as to his winking up here. If he did wink up here, it must
be attributed to the agitation of the moment, and his respect
for the family."
" Ay, perhaps that was it," said the cook. " He could
hardly wink at Sir Jerry, especially as his honor's back was
to him then, and so diverted his respect to us."
The wedding party had walked to the church, for that was
in conformity with custom, with prognostications of luck, and
TEE WEITE EOBSE OF WO OTTO K 409
"with the settled notions of John Bullfinch, Mr. Southdown
and all the cousins, male and female, of the Bullfinch blood •
but they went back to Hawkwell in vehicles and on horseback,
amidst the plaudits of the people, and attended by the joyful
pealing of the bells. Mrs. Hickman took upon herself the
■ marshalling of the guests to the great tables spread indoors
and out. It was not then the custom, which has been heard
of in some places since, for the bridegroom and bride to stand
up for a while before the company, and then take an oppor-
tunity to escape by stealth, as if they had stolen the old peo-
pie's spoons, or done something else to be mortally ashamed
of. No, Mr. and Mrs. Scarlet would have the places of honor
at the feast. When they left for a little excursion to Stowe,
the seat of the Duke of Buckingham, the slippers would fly
out after them, while tabor and pipe struck up, and the lads
and lasses began their dances in the orchard. And when at
night, on their return, with their bridesmaids and grooms,
they reached the Grange, the door-posts would be hung with
myrtle, and Tom, taking his bride round the waist with his
strons: arm, would " over the threshold lift her in."
This order of events was a little delayed by the sudden ar-
rival of Mr. Doublefee, who, fiery hot with haste, rushed up to
Tom Scarlet and May, and shook their hands.
" Hem ! you were about to sit down," said he. " I crave a
delay of a few minutes on a matter of great importance. Mr.
Bullfinch, Mr. Southdown, I bring intelligence of weight and
import to the future standing and happiness of the amiable
couple whose nuptials are the occasion of general joy. I en-
deavored to get here before the wedding "
" The villain !" said old Mrs. Oatford to her niece. " He
would have stopped it if he could."
"But," continued the lawyer, "though I flew upon the
wings of "
"Love!" said Young Jack, with Meg Southdown's arm
snugly tucked under his own.
" Not exactly love, my young friend. We can hardly call
it love in the pleadings. Let us rather say the wings of law
and equity and testamentary proceedings."
" What have they to do with this wedding ?" said Mr. South-
down. " There's nobody dead !"
410 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
" Yes there is, though !" replied Mr. Doublefee ; " and what
is more the deceased made a will, as my client Mr. Scarlet and
Miss May Bullfinch that was, now feme covert, will find, duly
proved."
^'Feme covert!" cried Mrs. Oatford, "what does the man
mean? I declare it's an insult."
" Nothing of the kind, madam. It means female joined in
wedlock — a married lady."
" Go on, and come to the p'int, sir," said Mr. Southdown.
" Hem ! I may say that I came to that a day or two ago ;
but I shall now do so as briefly as possible. Some fifty years
ago a certain /e?/ie sole, a spinster of the Scarlet family, offended
her relations by running off" with the mate of a West India-
man and getting married to him. Nothiug was heard of him
or her for many years.
" Now stop !" said Admiral Broadside, from the great arm-
chair. " You say this man was mate of a West Indiaman
fifty years ago."
" I do, sir ; and I can prove the fact to the satisfaction of
any intelligent jury."
" Then, sir," said the Admiral, " that mate must have known
the landlady's daughter at Port Royal, who was very beau-
tiful, and just like the bride of to-day. This will corroborate
the case, sir."
"Thank you, sir!" said Mr. Doublefee, and continued:
" Young Crosstree and his wife soon removed from Bristol,
and the mate, promoted to be captain of a brigantine, sailed
out of Liverpool, trading to the west coast of Africa. Mrs.
Margaret Crosstree, the captain's wife, was energetic and
industrious. She took possession of her husband's money
every time he was in port, and invested it. The captain, a
man of jovial disposition, with a constitution capable of en-
during any — a — a "
" Climate," said Young Jack.
" Yes, climate, too ; but I was about to say any amount of
hard drinking — became a great favorite with the African
chiefs — kings of Bonny, Old Calabar, &c., and especially with
the renowned potentate Ja Ja Jumbo. He made much money
for his owners, having a sort of monopoly of some sorts of
trade whenever he was there, and he also made a good deal
THE WHITE HORSE OF V/OOTTON. 411
of money for himself In fact, it was more than sufficient to
buy a snug estate of three hundred acres, arable and pasture,
with a substantial dwelling-house and appurtenances. ^Irs.
Margaret made the purchase. The captain contented himself
with naming the place, which he called the Cameroons. Mrs.
Margaret lived in the house. The land was let at a fair
rental. Some years passed, and at length the worthy captain
died, in the Bight of Biafra, of the coast-fever, the sailors
said, but the surgeon of the man-of-war then upon the station
said, ' of too much rum.' But dead he was, and his will was
proved, leaving the Cameroons in fee to Mrs. Margaret, to-
gether with all his personal j)roperty. She continued to live
at The Cameroons, with two female servants and a gardener,
and as she grew old became eccentric. The fact that she
abused her relations was nothing, because it is very common.
But she talked of leaving all her property to some benevolent
society. It is not certain that she would ever have been able
to determine which ; but something occurred quite recently
to divert her intentions. From her windows she saw, one day
in January, two men and a boy come into the dairy ground
of The Cameroons with a White Horse, Avhich was mounted
and galloped. The trespass was complete, and Mrs. Margaret
had a mind to compel her tenant to sue ; but she first sent her
gardener to question the parties. Before he got to them, one
of the men, the boy, and the horse had regained the public
road ; but he returned to Mrs. Margaret with the other man,
one Sassafras."
*' I thought it would come to him when I heard of the White
Horse. Eh, Southdown?" said John Bullfinch.
" I remember the place well enough. It is within nine miles
of Chester. We went there because we observed that the
dairy ground was good going when our usual \vorking place
was hard from frost," said Tom Scarlet.
" Hem ! I do not mind your admitting that, but as to any-
thing further, I beg of you to consult your legal adviser, my-
self," said Mr. Doublefee. He then continued : " What I am
now about to disclose is not only of vast importance to you
and Mrs. Scarlet, but will be of great interest to all the ladies
and gentlemen present, who may be said to be counsel in the
cause. Mrs. Margaret fancied that Sassafras was a good deal
412 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
like her late husband when she first saw him, and asked him
if he was not a sailor."
" He looked like one," said Tom.
" I protest against any further admissions on your part, Mr.
Scarlet, until we have had a consultation. Sassafras said he
was not a sailor, but admitted that he had once gone upon an
expedition to an isle in the Carribbean Sea, near what is
called — the name escapes me at the moment "
" The Grand Cayman !" said Young Jack.
" Yes, the Grand Cayman. Mrs. Margaret mentioned the
trespass and directed her handmaid to set out a bottle of rum.
They discussed the subject matter. Sassafras took his neat
and cold. The venerable lady had hers in the shape of hot
toddy, compounded by the maid, whose practice had been large.
Sassafras recited the history of Tom Scarlet, his love for Miss
Bullfinch, and the engagement of the White Horse. The
venerable relict of the worthy captain asked many questions,
and made a few comments. AVhen Sassafras left she arose,
and with what he called a lightning flash in her eyes, said,
' If he's a true Scarlet, and the man he ought to be, he'll win
this race !"
Loud applause interrupted Mr. Doublefee, and Tom Scarlet
was about to speak, but the former interposed, hastily saying,
" No admissions ! Not a word ! Now mark me," said Mr.
Doublefee, with a triumphant air, "five days after the steeple-
chase, to wit, Mrs. Margaret sent for her man of business —
meaning her attorney — ^aud upon his arrival she then and there
executed a will. It devised handsome legacies to her servants,
and then bequeathed all the rest of her estate, real and per-
sonal — The Caraeroons of three hundred acres in a ring fence,
with much valuable timber, constituting the former, and the
latter consisting of money in the funds, and in a bank in Liv-
erpool — to her well-beloved cousin, Tom Scarlet of the Grange,
but upon the condition that he married May Bullfinch, whose
grandfather the testator had known in her youth. The con-
ditions really amounted to nothing, for he is next of kin, and
would have taken in that capacity if the will had failed. Mrs.
Margaret's health failed rapidly from the time she made her
will, and ten days ago she died. If she had survived a month
longer, it was her intention to invite Mr. and Mrs. Scarlet to
* THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 413
tlie Cameroons, and put them in possession. As it is, her man
of business and myself have put everything in proper train, and
I now announce, without hesitation, that my client, Mr. Thomas
Scarlet of The Grange, residuary legatee and survivor of Mrs.
Margaret Crosstree of the Cameroons, recently deceased, has
an indefeasible title."
" Sir, you are a credit to your profession," said Mr. South-
down, " and it now appears to me, that what with the Grange
and the Cameroons, Tom Scarlet is a rich man."
" And that makes no difference to him except so far as it
may please his wife," said Tom. " We really owe this estate
to Sassafras, for I never saw^ cousin— "
" No admissions ! Not another word !" cried Mr. Doublefee.
" Now, I think," said Young Jack, " if everybody pleases,
that it's all owing to the White Horse, and as I have him in
the stable, next box to Cowslip, I propose to bring him out
when we have eaten the w^eddiug breakfast, and distributed
the bride-cake."
CHAPTER XLHI.
^HE finishing of" The White Horse of Woottox" will be
J- but the winding up of a tale that is told, as he made no'
more races, but remained at Hawkwell, the admired of John
Bullfinch, Tom Scarlet, Southdown, Ransome and Young Jack.
His sons out of Cowslip and Young Cowslip were famous
hunters and steeple-chasers. Sassafras reached America after
a stormy passage, and was married quietly to Miriam Cots-
wold in the presence of a few friends of his father and mother.
A week after the wedding he presented himself at the office
of Mr. Leith, greatly to the delight of Duncan, who had the
account made up. The truth is that Duncan had been in sore
trouble in respect to Sassafras for some months. In the pre-
ceding winter old Mr. Leith had come in one morning in a
heat, and told Duncan that they must " hand the gear together"
for Sassafras ; for, said he, " he's awa' aff to England wi' an-
ither daft loon of the same stamp and a race-horse, and ye ken,
Duncan, they English would just tak' the eyes oot of a. man's
414 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. *
head in any dealings about race-horses, and the like of things
that goes on at Kewmarket. AYhy could na' the chiel stay
here?"
" Aweel, sir," said Duncan, " Sassafras is no' that easy to
beat in regard to horses and racing, as I have heard from mair
than ane. He may beat tha Southron bodies at their own
game at Newmarket."
" I have na muckle hopes of ony such thing, Duncan. Ye'll
find he'll come back a broken man."
Therefore, when Duncan found Sassafras in presence, his
joyful greeting was mixed with lamentations over the losses
he supposed the Western man had incurred.
"Losses!" said Sassafras, "man alive, what losses? I'm
richer by thousands of dollars than I was when I went away."
" Save us, Sassafras ! Ye dinna mean to avouch that ye ha'
beat the English at Newmarket ?"
" Why, no ! not at Newmarket, but in the Midland Coun-
ties, Duncan, the famous Vale of Aylesbury. We won a stee-
ple-chase for a thousand pounds a side, and I had a bet with
the Duke of Jumpover for a hundred ounces of gold."
" Lord save us! a thousand pund sterling ! I'd gie a baw^bee
if oor Mr. Leith was in tli 3 day. He's awa to New York, but
in course ye'll wait his return. A hundred ounces of gold !
And of a Duke, too ! I hope he didna pay ye wi' a bill !
Tha Dukes is no' that sure of a cash balance at their bank-
ers."
'• He paid in Bank of England notes, and here they are,"
said Sassafras. " The man is a trump — real gentleman ! so
were all that I met with in the little Island over yonder. I
want to deposit these notes with you for the present."
"My certie. Sassafras, the sight of them is gude for sair een.
Ye ken we've uae sich banlio here as yon Bank of England."
Sassafras then explained that he had won a wife, as well as
the wealth, and meant to take her out to visit a cousin in the
country. When he returned they would have a settlement as
to the tobacco, robes and furs.
"And thereby, man, I hae a tale to tell," said Duncan,
eagerly. " Ye'll mind the silver fox-skins ye made a present
of to oor ]\[iss Janet ? We sent them to Lunnon to be dressed
and made up. At the beginning of the winter they w^ere re-
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 415
turned. Miss Janet first wore them to church. Sassafras, ye
shuld hae seen all the leddies eyeing the silver fox furs, and
ready to faint \vi' envy. Ye see, the puir bodies had naething
on but mink and otter — the very best of them — and son;e
naething but red fox and muskrat, while oor Miss Janet was
just resplendent in the silver fox fit for a princess. Man, the
vera minister could na' tak' his eyes aff her. Mv. Leith was
fu' o' pride — mair sae than was proper for the place. As for
Angus McTartar— he's coorting her, ye ken— when we got
hame he just threw aff his hat and coat and dancit the Hie-
land fling while the young leddy was up-stairs. 'Twas wrang
on the Sabbath, Sassafras, but ye see tha Hieland lovers hae
na that reverence that beseems the day."
Sassafras and his bride spent a week or two at Pierce's, and
Elizabeth was much pleased with her cousin. On the evening
of the day they left for the West, Pierce stood behind his bar,
intently regarding his man Jake. Finally he produced the
peach and honey, and, with a pantomimic gesture, signified
that the negro should help himself.
" Mrs. Sassafras, Jake, may not have cdl the accomplishments
of Mrs. Pierce — Elizabeth — but she's a very beautiful woman."
" Dar' no handsomer young 'oman, sa, in de Ole Dominion,"
returned Jake.
" And her manners, Jake, and her style, are superior."
"Why, of course, Pierce," said the voice of Elizabeth, from
the stairs. " My cousin, Miriam, is not only an English lady,
but in some sort a daughter of the Old Dominion, Pierce, be-
ing a descendant of Captain John Smith and the Princess
Pocahontas, Pierce !"
It was some years before Elizabeth was undeceived as to
this matter.
Five months after Sassafras and Miriam reached the plan-
tation there was a meeting at the trading-post between them
and the Indian chief, who had come eastward with a band of
his young men for the purpose of greeting his old friends.
He 'brought many presents for Miriam, and there arrange-
ments were made for the shipment of the elk, the buffalo and
Young Jack's bear upon the Arkansas. The precise locality
of this post is in dispute. Some think it was in Arkansas,
some in Missouri, some in the territory of the Cherokees, and
416 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK
some carry it much further west into Kansas. The precise
pLace of the events related is not of much moment. The post
is like Prospero's Isle.
" Since that time the Isle hath been
By wandering sailors never seen."
When Sassafras became a father he gave up his roving
habits to a considerable extent, though he still went West
nearly every fall to hunt with the chief of the Cheyennes
about the forks of the Canadian river.
Once only Cinnamon visited him at the plantation near St.
Jo., but he did not remain long. He was soon head chief of
his great tribe, but nothing could ever induce him to pay a
visit to his " Great Father at Washington." The only white
man, besides Sassafras, for whom the chief had a high respect
was the late General Harney. Much communication was kept
up between Sassafras and his wife and their English friends.
When the Duke of Jumpover's nephews visited America, and
the plantation at St. Jo., to hunt with Sassafras and go out
upon the plains to Cinnamon's country, the young lads who
went with them were called respectively Tom Scarlet Sassa-
fras and John Bullfinch Sassafras, and the beautiful dark-
eyed young girl whom they left with her mother ^at the plan-
tation answered to the name of May. The Frenchmen, Jules
and Antoiue, were also of the party, and many trophies of
the chase were secured.
It was on their return from this expedition that Sassafras
brought the party to a halt in a wild and broken spot, and
said : " This is the very place where the Choctaw killed Cap-
tain Staples. You see, the captain had hired the Indian to
track Tom Scarlet and me ; and when the old man sought his
camp, after the doings at the ford, he found the Indian there.
The fact is that the Choctaw found he had been duped in the
pay. A difficulty arose. The captain pulled a pistol, but he
was too slow, for the Indian jumped in with his knife, and
that settled it."
The elk, the buffalo and the bear had arrived in England
long before that time, and the former bred in Sir Jerry Snaffle's
park and in that of the Duke of Jumpover. But the bear
was not a success. At first, from his huge size and his fierce-
ness, he was the wonder of the countrv side, and the delight
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 417
of Young Jack. But trouble soon began. Moleskin com-
plained to John Bullfinch, as they sat over their pipes and
ale, that the bear attracted all sorts of rough characters to the
neighborhood from Oxford, Banbury, Birmingham, Coventry
and the Black Country. The truth is that for some time the
"fancy" of those parts could not be persuaded that their
bulldogs and mastiffs were not equal to the baiting of young
Bullfinch's bear, and on a Sunday some twenty or thirty men,
with as many dogs, used to assemble at the saw-pit, in which
the bear was chained. Finally matters came to a climax. Bar-
ton and Ford arrived with four powerful bull mastiffs, descended
from the famous bitch who had taken the lion Wallace by the
hock, and made him roar with anguish, when he fought the
six dogs at Warwick for a thousand pounds. Ford protested
that Bullfinch's American bear was not a fair bear, and
claimed that the four dogs should be slipped at once. If it
had been a " Rooshian" bear, he protested that he would have
been content to let go one at a time. After some altercation
Young Jack stipulated for two at a time, and down the slope
into the pit they went, set on by Barton. The others were
furious, and Ford, pretending that he was unable to hold them,
let them go too. A desperate fight ensued. Finally, the bear
broke the collar to which his chain was attached, and climbed
out of the pit. Before he could be got in again he hurt three
or four men and a shortrhorn bull^^nd was eventually shot by
Moleskin in the brisket.
But if Master Bullfinch experienced some disappointment
and a failure in regard to the bear, he soon had a notable tri-
umph in another respect. His was a busy life for a youth.
In spring and summer and in the ripe time of harvest he
"was a-field early and late, and during the winter, in the hunt-
ing season, he was chief confidant and adviser of young Lord
Doomsday. On the great day when Lord Doomsday with
Blue Peter beat his brothers-in-law in a steeple-chase down the
Vale, Jack was in his glory. Tom Scarlet had trained the
horse, and Master Bullfinch had ridden him in his work. The
line was the same as that over which the White Horse ran.
The brothers-in-law not only got into the big brook, but fell
at Barker's Bullfinch as well ; but, as Rose Tanner remarked,
they were ready " to come lO time," and said, after it was over,
27
418 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
" Let Doomsday lend us the money, and we will run again in
a month."
Eose's brothers in Australia continued to prosper. They
became possessed of great tracts of land and vast flocks of
sheep. They sent mouey every year to Rose, but it was al-
ways remitted to John Bullfinch, as the gypsies continued to
harbor doubts touching the honesty of the parson of the
parish. Jack Cotswold was soon very well off. His horse-
dealing was carried on with much shrewdness and success, and
a great venture on Bay Middleton, through hints from John
Bullfinch and Tom Scarlet, who continued to be very intimate
with Ransome, netted him a large sum when that famous colt
won the Derby. But what most excited the admiration and
delight of the good people of the Vale at the time of that glo-
rious event was the fact that Lady Snaffle's maid, Miss Kitty
Ruflae, won five hundred pounds. Beiug in waiting on Lady
Snaffle at Middleton during her usual winter visit to Lady
Jersey, Miss Kitty learned the opinion of the countess in
respect to the prospects of Bay Middleton. She requested Sir
Jerry Snaffle to bet twenty-five pounds for her, probably
moved .thereto by the Spanish blood in her veins, stood it out
when the odds got short and the baronet advised her to hedge,
and won five hundred pounds. On the same race Lady Jer-
sey's coachman, the Duke of Grafton's coachman, and Lady
Snaffle's coachman won heaps of money ; but nothing was so
much talked of from Aylesbury to Whittlebury Forest, and
from Belvoir Castle to the classic courts of Oxford, as the
gameness of the little lady's maid in standing the bet out and
winning a handsome marriage portion. Intelligence of this
was written to Sassafras and Miriam by Young Jack, and he
concluded his letter by stating that he should have got as
much put on for Margery Southdown, only his father and his
sister May forbade him. It is to be regretted that Parkins
did not very long retain the confidence and countenance of
the higher authorities. As he got older he grew more and
more addicted to captious meddlesomeness, and retaining at
the same time his devotion to "No. 1, brass tap, right-hand
side of the cellar," he was ousted of his office. John Bull-
finch continued to entertain Moleskin very frequently. When
his daughter was at the Grange John rode over every day, but
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 419
she and her husband were often at Hawkwell. One, two,
three times John took pen in hand to announce to Sassafras
and Miriam that there was an increase in his daughter's
family. The first child was a boy, and by the sage advice of
the keeper the child was christened John, for said he : " You
thereby knock down four out of the covey. There's you,
John Bullfinch, and if the baby takes after you he'll do.
There's John Sassafras in America, also a good man and true.
There's John Scarlet in the old churchyard, and there's Young
Jack, so-called, his real name being John."
" I shan't interfere in regard to the name, sir," replied John.
" My daater is not likely to choose any outlandish name.
Your arguments are good, so far as they go. But May will
be apt to please herself"
" Jest so !" said the keeper, " I always said she'd have her
own way, in spite of you or Tom either."
" None of that, sir," said John, with some severity. " My
daater is now a mother, and is more like her own mother than
ever."
" And a little like her father, too, as her husband will find
if he ever takes occasion to contradict her, which, like a wise
man, he has not yet done," said the keeper. " Now John is a
good name — a good eldest-born, son-and-heir sort o' name.
There's two estates in the family — let May call her baby John,
after you, after Sassafras, after Young Jack, after Captain
John Crosstree of The Cameroons, and after the late John
Scarlet. I have said my say. You may put it out of the way
by obstinacy, but not by argeyment, not by argeyment."
With this the keeper replenished his pipe, drank a great
draught from the tankard, and looked John in the face.
" John, sir, is a good name — a very good name. Nobody
has said anything against the name," replied John Bullfinch,
with some heat, " but it is not the only name. There has been
many a Charles in our family time out of mind "
" So there has," said the keeper, striking in, " and what's
more, there is now. There's Charlie Bullfinch of the Mill.
He's a known man — none better in the county at a feast or a
fight. Then there's Charlie of Cherwell side, better known
as Charlie-over-the- Water, most likely because he never drinks
any. O ! the Bullfinches have got their Charlies in the
country still."
420 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON.
" Sir," said John, with a little dignity, " nobody ventures to
say anything against the miller and the grazier in their pres-
ence. Besides, sir, my uncle Charles, of Bath, was one of the
most eminent physicians in this kingdom. He was often called
in to attend royalty."
" As often as it had the gout !" said Moleskin, " and I've
heerd that his treatment was esteemed in that family because
his favorite prescription was took in brandy and water. But
who said anything agen Doctor Charles?"
" Nobody can say anything against him, sir, and my daater
May may wish to call her boy after her learned and distin-
guished grand-uncle, or she may wish to call him after his
father, Tom. Or, as Sir Jerry and Lady Snaffle have been
always very kind to her, treating her, as she says, almost
like a daughter, she may call the boy Jerry."
" I object to Jerry," said the keeper. " But if you j'ine
the two names and make it ' Tom and Jerry,' the boy will be
popular in these parts. You advise Mrs. Scarlet to call the
young 'un Tom and Jerry."
" I will first advise you not be a fool, sir," said John Bull-
finch, sternly. '''She may wish to call the boy Kichard," he
continued, raising his voice and rising from his chair. " Do
you object to Richard, sir ? Have you anything to say against
Richard, sir? There have always been four or five Richards
in our family, and there are now."
" Then that's plenty," said the keeper, " especially as Rough-
riding Dick of Heythrop is one on 'em."
" I think it is likely this child may be called Dick — I mean
Richard," said John. " Four of my cousins will take it as a
compliment. Besides, there's Richard Southdown, family con-
nection as will be ; and your own name is Richard, to boot.
What do you mean by abusing the name of Richard, sir?"
A reply was prevented by the entrance of Young Jack,
who had been at Southdown 's, where indeed he was very often,
much to the scandal of the older Misses Southdown, who never
ceased to insist upon the fact to their mother that Margery
was but " a child.'"
" I know, my dears," the good lady replied. " Still, she and
young Bullfinch may be said to be engaged. Your father's
mind is made up, and when Young Jack is twenty-one they
will soon be married. There now, it's out !"
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 421
May's first-born was called John. The next child born at
Hawkwell — for May went home on these occasions — was a
girl, and by general acclamation of all the family and friends
this baby was called May. And then, behold ! in fulfilment
of a prediction by Rose Tanner, after long consultation of the
stars, came female twins, and these were called Margaret and
Miriam. That was a christening ! Lady Snafile was again
godmother; Lord Doomsday stood godfather. Presents rich
and rare were showered upon the infants. The young mother
• — beautiful as ever, paler than usual, still blooming like the
red and the white rose — was the object of a hundred toasts.
From all the country round there was a great flight of the
Bullfinches to the christening of the twins. Best of all, Sas-
safras " happened over," as he called it, at that time and was
present. Then it was that he struck hands with Charlie of
the Mill, Charlie over Cherwell AYater, Rough-riding Dick
and a score of other Bullfiuches ; and there and then observ-
ing that while Master Bullfinch was still " Young Jack" with
the cousins, Mr. Southdown and the keeper, his name had
ripened and mellowed into " John" upon the lips of May and
his brother-in-law, and those of Lord Doomsday, Mrs. South-
down and her daughter Margery, the Western man remarked
to John Bullfinch, Sr., " I see that I shall soon have to come
across again, and bring Miriam !"
THE END.
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