Arthur MacHen: A Novelist of Ecstasy and Sin
Nonfiction, Religion & Spirituality, New Age, History, Fiction & Literature
| Author: | Vincent Starrett | ISBN: | 9781465540027 |
| Publisher: | Library of Alexandria | Publication: | March 8, 2015 |
| Imprint: | Language: | English |
| Author: | Vincent Starrett |
| ISBN: | 9781465540027 |
| Publisher: | Library of Alexandria |
| Publication: | March 8, 2015 |
| Imprint: | |
| Language: | English |
SOLDIER BOY − PRIVATELY TO HIMSELF I am Buffalo Bill's horse. I have spent my life under his saddle − with him in it, too, and he is good for two hundred pounds, without his clothes; and there is no telling how much he does weigh when he is out on the war−path and has his batteries belted on. He is over six feet, is young, hasn't an ounce of waste flesh, is straight, graceful, springy in his motions, quick as a cat, and has a handsome face, and black hair dangling down on his shoulders, and is beautiful to look at; and nobody is braver than he is, and nobody is stronger, except myself. Yes, a person that doubts that he is fine to see should see him in his beaded buck−skins, on my back and his rifle peeping above his shoulder, chasing a hostile trail, with me going like the wind and his hair streaming out behind from the shelter of his broad slouch. Yes, he is a sight to look at then − and I'm part of it myself. I am his favorite horse, out of dozens. Big as he is, I have carried him eighty−one miles between nightfall and sunrise on the scout; and I am good for fifty, day in and day out, and all the time. I am not large, but I am built on a business basis. I have carried him thousands and thousands of miles on scout duty for the army, and there's not a gorge, nor a pass, nor a valley, nor a fort, nor a trading post, nor a buffalo−range in the whole sweep of the Rocky Mountains and the Great Plains that we don't know as well as we know the bugle−calls. He is Chief of Scouts to the Army of the Frontier, and it makes us very important. In such a position as I hold in the military service one needs to be of good family and possess an education much above the common to be worthy of the place. I am the best−educated horse outside of the hippodrome, everybody says, and the best−mannered. It may be so, it is not for me to say; modesty is the best policy, I think. Buffalo Bill taught me the most of what I know, my mOther taught me much, and I taught myself the rest. Lay a row of moccasins before me − Pawnee, Sioux, Shoshone, Cheyenne, Blackfoot, and as many Other tribes as you please − and I can name the tribe every moccasin belongs to by the make of it. Name it in horse−talk, and could do it in American if I had speech. I know some of the Indian signs − the signs they make with their hands, and by signal−fires at night and columns of smoke by day. Buffalo Bill taught me how to drag wounded soldiers out of the line of fire with my teeth; and I've done it, too; at least I've dragged HIM out of the battle when he was wounded. And not just once, but twice
SOLDIER BOY − PRIVATELY TO HIMSELF I am Buffalo Bill's horse. I have spent my life under his saddle − with him in it, too, and he is good for two hundred pounds, without his clothes; and there is no telling how much he does weigh when he is out on the war−path and has his batteries belted on. He is over six feet, is young, hasn't an ounce of waste flesh, is straight, graceful, springy in his motions, quick as a cat, and has a handsome face, and black hair dangling down on his shoulders, and is beautiful to look at; and nobody is braver than he is, and nobody is stronger, except myself. Yes, a person that doubts that he is fine to see should see him in his beaded buck−skins, on my back and his rifle peeping above his shoulder, chasing a hostile trail, with me going like the wind and his hair streaming out behind from the shelter of his broad slouch. Yes, he is a sight to look at then − and I'm part of it myself. I am his favorite horse, out of dozens. Big as he is, I have carried him eighty−one miles between nightfall and sunrise on the scout; and I am good for fifty, day in and day out, and all the time. I am not large, but I am built on a business basis. I have carried him thousands and thousands of miles on scout duty for the army, and there's not a gorge, nor a pass, nor a valley, nor a fort, nor a trading post, nor a buffalo−range in the whole sweep of the Rocky Mountains and the Great Plains that we don't know as well as we know the bugle−calls. He is Chief of Scouts to the Army of the Frontier, and it makes us very important. In such a position as I hold in the military service one needs to be of good family and possess an education much above the common to be worthy of the place. I am the best−educated horse outside of the hippodrome, everybody says, and the best−mannered. It may be so, it is not for me to say; modesty is the best policy, I think. Buffalo Bill taught me the most of what I know, my mOther taught me much, and I taught myself the rest. Lay a row of moccasins before me − Pawnee, Sioux, Shoshone, Cheyenne, Blackfoot, and as many Other tribes as you please − and I can name the tribe every moccasin belongs to by the make of it. Name it in horse−talk, and could do it in American if I had speech. I know some of the Indian signs − the signs they make with their hands, and by signal−fires at night and columns of smoke by day. Buffalo Bill taught me how to drag wounded soldiers out of the line of fire with my teeth; and I've done it, too; at least I've dragged HIM out of the battle when he was wounded. And not just once, but twice
