[Sidenote: The Squaw Hitch]
Throw a double bight across the top of the pack (Fig. 1). Pa.s.s end _a_ under the horse and through loop _c_; and end _b_ under the horse and through loop (_d_). Take both _a_ and _b_ directly back under the horse again, in the opposite direction, of course, and pa.s.s both through loop (_e_). Now cinch up on the two ends and fasten.
[Sidenote: Sling]
8. _Sling No. 1._--When you possess no kyacks, but have some sort of pack saddle, it is necessary to improvise a sling.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 1
Fig. 2
Fig. 3
Fig. 4
_Sling No. 1._]
Fasten the middle of your rope by means of two half hitches to the front of the pack saddle (Fig. 1). Throw the ends (_b_, _b_) crossed as shown in Fig. 2. Place the box or sack in bight (_a_), pa.s.sing the rope around the outside and the ends, as in Fig. 3. The end of the sack should be just even with the front of the pack saddle. If you bring it too far forward the front of the sling will sag. Pa.s.s the end (_b_) underneath the sack or burden, across its middle, and over the top of the saddle.
When the other side is similarly laden, the ends (_b_, _b_) may be tied together at the top; or if they are long enough, may be fastened at _c_ (Fig. 4).
[Sidenote: Another Sling]
9. _Sling No. 2._--Another sling is sometimes handy for long bundles, and is made as follows:
[Ill.u.s.tration: _Sling No. 2._]
Fasten the rope by the middle as explained in the last. Fasten ends (_b_, _b_) to the rear horn or to each other (see diagram). Leave the bights of the rope (_a_, _a_) of sufficient length so they can be looped around the burden and over the horns. This sling is useful only on a regular pack saddle, while the other really does not need the rear pommel at all, as the ropes can be crossed without it.
[Sidenote: The Saddle Hitch]
10. _The Saddle Hitch._--There remains now the possibility, or let us hope probability, that you may some day wish to pack a deer on your riding saddle, or perhaps bring in a sack of grain or some such matter.
Throw the rope across the seat of the saddle, leaving long ends on both sides. Lay your deer aboard, crosswise. Thrust a bight (_a_) of one end through your cinch ring, and pa.s.s the loop thus formed around the deer"s neck (Fig. 1). Repeat on the other side, bringing the loop there about his haunch. Cinch up the two ends of the rope, and tie them on top.
[Ill.u.s.tration: _The Saddle Hitch._]
[Ill.u.s.tration: _Ill.u.s.trating How to Pack Eggs or Gla.s.sware._]
[Ill.u.s.tration: _THE RESULT OF NOT GETTING THE HITCH ON SNUG._]
[Sidenote: The Saddle Hitch]
[Sidenote: How to Pack Fragile Stuff]
The great point in throwing any hitch is to keep the rope taut. To do this, pay no attention to your free end, but clamp down firmly the fast end with your left hand until the right has made the next turn. Remember this; it is important. The least slip back of the slack you have gained is going to loosen that pack by ever so little; and then you can rely on the swing and knocks of the day"s journey to do the rest. The horse rubs under a limb or against a big rock; the loosened rope sc.r.a.pes off the top of the pack; something flops or rattles or falls--immediately that cayuse arches his back, lowers his head, and begins to buck. It is marvelous to what height the bowed back will send small articles catapult-wise into the air. First go the tarpaulin and blankets; then the duffle bags; then one by one the contents of the alforjas; finally, after they have been sufficiently lightened, the alforjas themselves in an abandoned parabola of debauched delight. In the meantime that horse, and all the others, has been running frantically all over the rough mountains, through the rocks, ravines, brush and forest trees. You have ridden recklessly trying to round them up, sweating, swearing, praying to the Red G.o.ds that none of those indispensable animals is going to get lame in this insane hippodrome. Finally between you, you have succeeded in collecting and tying to trees all the culprits. Then you have to trail inch by inch along the track of the cyclone, picking up from where they have fallen, rolled, or been trampled, the contents of that pack down to the smallest. It will take you the rest of the day; and then you"ll miss some. Oh, it pays to get your hitch on snug!
[Sidenote: The Tie Hitch]
11. _The Tie Hitch._--The hitches described are all I have ever had occasion to use, and will probably carry you through any emergencies that may be likely to arise. But perhaps many times during the day you are likely to want to stop the train for the purpose of some adjustments. Therefore you will attach your lead ropes in a manner easily to be thrown loose. Thrust the bight (_a_) of the lead rope beneath any part of the pack rope (_b_, _b_). Double back the bight (_d_) of the loose end (_c_) through the loop (_a_) thus formed. Tighten the knot by pulling tight on loop _d_. A sharp pull on _c_ will free the entire lead rope.
[Ill.u.s.tration: _The Tie Hitch._]
CHAPTER XI
HORSES, MULES, BURROS
[Sidenote: Mules]
A GOOD riding mule, when you can get him, and provided you intend to use him only for trail travel in the mountains, is about the best proposition. A mule is more sure-footed than a horse, and can subsist where a horse would starve. On the other hand he is not much good off a walk; never acquires the horse"s interest in getting around stubborn stock, and is apt to be mean. None of these objections, however much they may influence your decision as to saddle animals, will have any weight against a pack beast. For the latter purpose the mule is unexcelled. But probably in the long run you will prefer to ride a horse.
[Sidenote: Burros]
Burros are an aggravation; and yet in some circ.u.mstances they are hard to beat. They are unbelievably slow, and unbelievably stubborn. When they get tired--or think they do--they stop, and urging merely confirms their decision to rest. You cannot hurry them. They hate water, and it is sometimes next to impossible to force them into a deep or swift stream. They are camp thieves, and will eat anything left within their reach. Still, they can live on sage-bush, go incredible periods without drinking, make their way through country impa.s.sible to any other hoofed animals excepting goats and sheep. Certain kinds of desert travel is impossible without them, and some sorts of high rough mountaineering is practicable only with their aid. At times you will be driven to the use of them. In such an emergency gird your soul with patience, and try to buy big ones.
[Sidenote: Pack Mules]
Pack mules are almost impossible to get, and are generally very high priced. A good pack mule does not mean any old mule that comes along.
The animal should be rather small, chunkily built, gentle as to the heels and teeth, accustomed to carrying and taking care of a pack, trained to follow the saddle horses, and not inclined to stray from camp. Such perfection costs anywhere from seventy-five to one hundred and fifty dollars. It is worth the price to one who does much packing; but as perfectly adequate pack horses can be had for from twenty to forty dollars, and are easy to find, you will in all likelihood choose them.
[Sidenote: Choosing a Horse]
Now I know perfectly well that I can tell you nothing about choosing a horse. If you are a New Englander you will know all about the trade; if you are a New Yorker, you could give me points on every horse in the ring; if you are Middle West, you probably have read or worked or traded or raised more horses than I will ever ride. But in selecting a mountain horse, his mere points as a physical specimen are often little in his favor, while glaring defects may concern his usefulness hardly at all.
[Sidenote: Western Horses]
Never mind at first how the horse offered for your inspection looks.
Examine him for blemishes later. You must first discover if he is sure-footed and courageous. An eastern horse would not last five minutes on a western trail. A western horse, no matter how accustomed to mountain work, is worse than useless if subject to ordinary horse-panics at suddenly rustling leaves, unexpected black stubs, and the like. He must attend to his footing, keep his eyes for the trail, and _be wise_.
Next you must inquire if this steadiness carries over into other things.
He must stand when left without hitching, and must be easy to catch.
Often you will have to dismount for the purpose of clearing trail, helping the pack train, tightening ropes, or reconnoitering. At such junctures iron hitching posts are not always at hand. Nothing is more aggravating than the necessity of searching everywhere for a place to tie, or worse, to be forced to chase down and coax quiet a horse that has promptly decamped when left for a moment to himself. Nor does it add to your joy to get up at four for the purpose of making an early start, only to spend the extra hour filched from sleep in an attempt to catch some snorting fool horse.
The picture I have sketched looks to you somewhat like what is known as an "old cow," doesn"t it? But in reality good horses of the quality named are not difficult to find. Equine intelligence is of a higher grade West than East, mainly because a western horse is all his life thrown on his own resources. It is perfectly possible to find a horse both handsome and spirited, which will nevertheless permit himself to be directly approached in pasture, and will stand until further orders on the trail.
[Sidenote: An "Old Cow" of a Horse]
But the point is that it is much better, oh, infinitely! to get an "old cow" than a horse without these qualities. The "old cow" will carry you, and will be there when wanted. That is the main thing in the mountains.
While as for the other horse, no matter how well bred he is, how spirited, how well gaited, how handsome, how appealing in every way to a horseman"s eye--he will be worse than no horse if you have to keep your hands on him, if he must be picketed at night, if he is likely to shy on a bad trail, if he may refuse to tackle a rough place or to swim a river.
[Ill.u.s.tration: In mid-day the shade of the pines is inviting]
[Sidenote: A Handsome Horse Not Necessary]
Of course it is nice to ride a good-looking horse; but in the mountains most emphatically "handsome is what handsome does." The horses I now own are fine animals and fine mountain ponies; but some of the best I have ever ridden, a horseman would not look at twice. On a time, being under the absolute necessity of getting a pack quickly, I purchased a bay that I promptly named Methuselah. He was some sixteen years old, badly stove forward by hard riding, and not much of a horse anyway. For three months he carried a pack. Then one day I threw a saddle on him to go a short distance on some little errand. Methuselah, overjoyed, did his best. The old horse was one of the best mountain saddlers in the outfit. He climbed surely and well; he used his head in negotiating bad places; would stay where he was put. The fact that he was not sound was utterly unimportant, for not once in a week was he required to go faster than a walk.