THE WOLF HUNTERS 



bother us; and when we hear from the old store- 

 keeper, back where you got him, if no owner has 

 shown up there to inquire about him, then your 

 claim is the next best and he'll be your horse." 



"No," said the impulsive Irishman, "ef we're 

 to git to kape him he's to be company property 

 he'll belong to all of us." 



"Well," put in Tom, "I've been thinkin' that 

 the black horse is entitled to a name, anyhow. 

 We've named the mules or Wild Bill did ' Dink' 

 an' 'Judy' an' the broncos 'Polly' an' * Vinegar'; 

 now, what'll we call the horse?" 



"Why not call him 'Captain Tucker,' after the 

 jay hawker?" I suggested. 



"No," promptly objected Jack, "it wouldn't be 

 treatin' the horse fair to call him after such a 

 scoundrel." 



"How would 'Black Prince' do?" proposed 

 Tom. 



"That suits me better. 'Black Prince' it shall 

 be." 



Passing successively Cottonwood Creek, Big 

 and Little Turkey Creeks, Little Arkansas, Jarvis 

 Creek, Big and Little Cow Creeks, we reached Big 

 Bend, the point where the Santa Fe trail, going 

 westward, first strikes the Arkansas River. 



Before reaching Big Bend we noticed with un- 

 easiness that the tires on our fore wheels were 

 becoming loose. At Council Grove, where we had 

 had the tires of the hind wheels shrunk and reset, 



92 



