132 STRUGGLE WITH A HORSE. 



had made him carry it home, as I had generally sent some one 

 for it, but this time I thought I would try it, and apparently 

 he did not object. I was standing in front of him, putting on 

 my coat, when he turned his head round and smelt the meat, 

 seeming to take in for the first time what it was, and then 

 began as desperate a struggle as I ever had with a horse. He 

 kicked and reared and jumped. I was holding on to the bit, 

 and was often taken off my feet, the meat flying about and 

 hitting him and driving him nearly mad. I knew that if I let 

 him go he would join the first herd of buffalo he met with, and 

 I should probably never see him again ; so I hung on, skinning 

 my hands and being pounded by his knees till, thank goodness, 

 the buckskin strap gave way, and the meat fell, and I managed 

 to lead him back to where the buffalo lay. Here I secured 

 him to the cow's head and blindfolded him with my coat ; I 

 tied on some more meat, mounted and got ready before 1 

 removed the coat for the second act of the performance. He 

 saw the meat at once, and started across the prairie, jumping 

 and bucking. I managed to turn him in the direction of 

 camp, which was about three miles off, past which we flew, 

 nearly stampeding the picketed horses, and making the men 

 think I was pursued by Indians. I described a circle on the 

 prairie and returned to camp, the horse being now as quiet as 

 a lamb, and by tying him up near where the meat hung, and 

 making him constantly carry a little, I soon got him quite used 

 to it the only trouble with him being that he would some- 

 times kick as you passed behind him with the lash-ropes, once 

 hitting me on the thigh and bolting ; and if it had not been for 

 the cook's passing near me, returning from a hunt, I should 

 have starved, as my leg swelled up so much that I had to cut 



