116 PRAIRIE AND FOREST. 



lose a chance to get a cow kick at the unwary, or 

 make his teeth meet in the flesh of the too con- 

 fiding. Broomstick, from having lately had an easier 

 time than rny other mount, was selected for the day's 

 work, and with expressions of grief that would break 

 the heart of the most obdurate, he submitted to be 

 saddled, I returning every few minutes to take an 

 extra pull upon the girths, for the villain would expand 

 himself on such occasions like a powter pigeon, so that 

 when you imagined you had got safely seated, and 

 ready to start, by a succession of the most mulish and 

 awkward buck-jumps, the saddle would get forward 

 beyond where his withers ought to have been, and 

 nought but wonderful skill in the laws of equitation 

 or fortune would prevent the rider from kissing mother- 

 earth. Now Broomstick could go if you knew how 

 to take it out of him, and that was accomplished by 

 commencing with a high hand from the start, and giving 

 him "the brumagems " every pace or two, and twice 

 as often if you felt his back getting up (which he used 

 to roach after the manner of a half-starved sow), or at 

 any attempt to put his head down. 



After a few ineffectual efforts which my steed made 

 showing an inclination to differ from me in opinion, we 

 jogged on comfortably for several miles along the edge 

 of prairie and timber, the usual markings of water- 

 courses. The sun was near mid-day, and still no game 

 was to be seen. In quiet, retired situations like this, 

 such is an unhealthy sign. For game is not in the habit 

 of leaving a favourite feeding-ground without reason. 

 Discouraged at want of success, I dismounted, fasten- 

 ing up Bucephalus, and took my pipe again into confi- 

 dence. On an old rotten limb of a partially-decayed 



