Winnetou, the Apache Knight | Page 9

your direction; then you show yourself, and they'll turn back towards me. So we'll drive
them back and forth till we've picked out the two best horses, and we'll catch them and
choose between them. Do you agree?"
"How can you ask? I know nothing of the art of mustang-catching, of which you are past
master, and I've nothing to do but follow your directions."
"All right. I have caught mustangs before to-day, and I hope you're not far wrong in

calling me a 'master' of that trade. Now let's take our places."
We turned and rode in opposite directions, he northward, I southward to the spot where
we had entered the prairie. I got behind some little trees, made one end of the lasso fast,
and coiled the other ready for use. The further end of the prairie was so far off that I
could not see the mustangs when they first appeared, but after I had been waiting a
quarter of an hour I saw what looked like a dark cloud rapidly increasing in size and
advancing in my direction. At first it seemed to be made up of objects about as big as
sparrows,then they seemed like cats, dogs, calves, and at last I saw them in their own
proportions. They were the mustangs in wild gallop, coming towards me. What a sight
these lordly beasts were, with their manes flying about their necks, and their tails
streaming like plumes in the wind! There were at least three hundred head, and the earth
seemed to tremble beneath the pounding of their hoofs. A white stallion led them, a noble
creature that any man might be glad to capture, only no prairie hunter would ride a white
horse, for he would be too conspicuous to his enemies.
Now was the time to show myself. I came out, and the startled leader sprang back as
though an arrow had pierced him. The herd halted; one loud, eager whinny from the
white stallion which plainly meant: Wheel, squadron! and the splendid fellow turned,
followed by all his companions, and tore back whence they had come. I followed slowly;
there was no hurry, for I knew Sam Hawkins would drive them back to me. I wanted to
make sure I was right in what I had seen, for in the brief instant the herd had halted it
seemed to me that one of them was not a horse, but a mule. The animal that I thought a
mule had been in the front ranks, immediately behind the leader, and so seemed not
merely to be tolerated by its companions, but to hold honorable rank among them.
Once again the herd came towards me, and I saw that I was not mistaken, but that a mule
really was among them, a mule of a delicate light brown color, with dark back-stripe, and
which I thought had the biggest head and the longest ears I had ever seen. Mules are more
suitable for rough mountain-riding than horses, are surer-footed, and less likely to fall
into abysses - a fact worth consideration. To be sure they are obstinate, and I have known
a mule be beaten half to death rather than take another step, not because it was overladen
or the way was hard, but simply because it would not. It seemed to me that this mule
showed more spirit than the horses, and that its eyes gleamed brighter and more
intelligently than theirs, and I resolved to capture it. Evidently it had escaped from its
former owner and joined the mustangs.
Now once more Sam turned the herd, and we had approached each other till I could see
him. The mustangs could no longer run back and forth; they turned to the side, we
following them. The herd had divided, and I saw that the mule was with the more
important part, still keeping beside the white horse, and proving itself an unusually strong
and swift animal. I pursued this band, and Sam seemed to have the same design.
"Get around them; I left, you right," he shouted.
We spurred our horses, and not only kept up with the mustangs, but rode so swiftly that
we headed them off from the woods. They began to scatter to all sides like chickens when

a hawk swoops down among them; and as we both chased the white stallion and the mule,
Sam cried: "You'll always be a greenhorn. Who else would pick out a white horse?"
I answered him, but his loud laugh drowned my reply, and if he thought I was after the
white horse it did not much matter. I left the mule to his tender care, and in a moment he
had come so near her that he threw the lasso.
The noose encircled