Sending a careful, trusty man to get the Indian horse, leaving another in his place, he led his own out on the prairie, and made a few trials of speed with the two. The result was satisfactory. He found that his horse was able to distance the other.
Now How-lish-wam-po was the owner of two horses very nearly alike,--one the racer; the other half-brother to him, but not so fleet. They were "Pinto"--spotted horses; so the deception was complete.
The Indian horses are never stabled, groomed, shod, or grain-fed. Their system of training differs from a white man"s very much. After a race is agreed upon, the animal is tied up to a stake or tree, and if he is fat, they starve him down, giving him only water. If, however, he is in good condition, they lead him out to gra.s.s, an hour or so, each day, and at nightfall they run him over the course.
In this instance the half-brother was tied up and put in training, and left _unguarded_, with the _hope_ that Crabb would steal him out, and try his speed. Sure enough, he fell into the trap that How-lish-wam-po set for him. The real race-horse was miles away, under proper training.
The fame of this wonderful winner had spread far and wide, as did the news of the approaching contest.
When the morning agreed upon arrived, the roads leading to the valley of Umatilla gave full proof of the interest the people of the surrounding country had in this important affair.
They came from places several hundred miles distant, and from the settlements surrounding the Reservation.
The little towns furnished their quota, and the farmers excused themselves for going, hoping, as they told their wives at home, that they should meet some one with whom they had business. And through various devices nearly every man, and a part of the women, also, found excuse to be there.
I know how that was done; at least, I heard men tell how they managed.
People who never gambled with dollars, and would blush to own they were fast people, found their way to Umatilla.
The race-course which I have described was parallel with a low range of gra.s.sy hills, that rose by gentle slopes from the valley to an alt.i.tude of fifty to one hundred feet.
Long before the time for the race, carriages, buggies, wagons, and horses, might be seen standing on the hills, or driving over the green sward, while at the standing-point was a.s.sembled a great motley crowd, on foot and horseback.
The Indians were in their gala-day dress,--paints, feathers, long hair, red blankets; in fact, it was a dress-parade for white and red men too.
The manner of betting at an Indian race differs somewhat from affairs of the kind among white men. One man is selected as a stake-holder for all moneys. Horses that are wagered are tied together and put under care of Indian boys. Coats, blankets, saddles, pistols, knives, and all kind of personal effects, are thrown into a common heap and tied together.
As the starting-hour approaches, two judges are elected,--one white man and one Indian. But two are required, since the horses run out, turn the stake, and come back to the starting-point. The first horse to get home is winner. No account is made of the start, each party depending on his shrewdness to get the better in this part of the race.
Indians are enthusiastic gamblers, and have a certain kind of pride, and to do them justice, honor, as well, in conducting their races. No disputes ever arise among themselves, and seldom with white men, growing out of misunderstandings, either about starting or the outcome. They take sides with their own people always, and bet, when the chances are against them, from pride.
The prevailing idea that they are always cool and stoical is not correct.
They become very much excited at horse-races, but not generally until the race begins. While the preliminaries are being arranged, they are serious, even solemn-looking fellows, and with great dignity come up with the money to bet. "Capable of dissembling," I should think they were, from the cool face of How-lish-wam-po, when the money is being counted out by the hundreds, in twenty-dollar gold-pieces,--not a few, but handfuls of twenties. One could not have detected the slightest twinkle in his eye, or other sign that he knew that Joe Crabb had _stolen his horse_, and _run_ him secretly. Cool, calm, earnest as if he were saying ma.s.s, this chieftain came up and handed over his money to the stake-holder, while numerous bets were being arranged between the other Indians and white men.
Horses were wagered, and tied together, and led away. Many a fellow had brought extras with him, for the express purpose of gambling, expecting of course to take home twice the number in the evening.
Crabb had confided his secret about his stolen run to a few friends, and advised them to _go in_, and win all the horses they wanted. There was no danger; he knew what he was talking about. He had the Indian"s horse"s speed by time, and also by trial.
This thing leaked out, and was communicated from one to another. Some pretty good men, who were not accustomed to betting, became anxious to win a pony or two, and laid wagers with the Indians.
The trick that Crabb had played was finally made known to How-lish-wam-po.
He and his people were cooled down, and seemed anxious to have the race come off before more betting was done.
This made the white men more anxious, and they urged, boasted, and ridiculed, until, in manifest desperation, the Indians began to bet again, and the _n.o.ble_ white man generously took advantage of the Indian"s hot blood, and forced him to make many bets that he appeared to shun.
The horses were brought out to start, and while the imported horse of Crabb"s looked every inch a racer, the other stood with head down, a rough-haired, uncouth brute, that appeared then to be a cross between ox and horse.
The presence and appearance of the horses was the signal for another charge on the Indians, and a few white friends they had, who, having learned from the chief, the truth of Crabb"s trick, came, in sympathy for the Indian, to his rescue.
Money, coats, hats, saddles, pistols, pocket-knives, cattle, horses, and all kinds of property, were staked on the race.
The Indians, in their apparent desperation, drove up another band of ponies, and in madness wagered them also.
Those of my readers who are accustomed to exhibitions around our "fair grounds," on days of "trials of speed," may have some idea of the scene I am trying to describe, except that few of them have ever seen so many horses tied together, and so large a pile of coats, blankets and saddles, as were staked upon this occasion.
When the final starting-time came, a pure-minded, innocent man would have felt great pity for the poor, dejected-looking Indians, at the sight of their faces, now so full of anxiety; and, certainly, the Pinto, who stood so unconcerned, on which they had staked so much, did not promise any hope; while his compet.i.tor was stripped of his blanket, disclosing a nice little jockey saddle, and silver-mounted bridle, his whole bearing indicating his superiority.
His thin nostrils, pointed ears, and arched neck, sleek coat, and polished limbs, that touched the ground with burnished steel, disdaining to stand still, while his gayly-dressed rider, with white pants tucked into boots embellished with silver-plated spurs; on his head, a blue cap, and with crimson jacket, was being mounted, requiring two or three experts to a.s.sist, so restless was this fine, thorough-bred to throw dirt into the eyes of the sleepy-looking Indian horse, which stood unmoved, uncovered, without saddle or bridle, or anything, save a small hair rope on his lower jaw, his mane and tail unkempt, his coat rough and ill-looking.
On his right side stood a little Indian boy, with head close-shaved, a blanket around him, and to all appearances unconscious that anything unusual was expected.
The other rider"s horse was making furious plunges to get away.
How-lish-wam-po was in no hurry, really; indeed things were going very much to the satisfaction of that distinguished individual.
He was willing to see the other man"s horse chafe and fret,--the more the better; and he cared nothing for the sponge that was used to moisten the mouth of the great racer.
Look away down the long line of white men and Indians; and on the low hills, above, see the crowd eager to witness the first jump!
The chief gives a quiet signal to the Indian boy. The blanket dropped from the boy"s shoulders, and a yellow-skinned, gaunt-looking sprite bestrode the Indian horse, holding in his left hand the hair rope, that was to serve him for a bridle, and in his right a small bundle of dried willows.
Presto! The stupid-looking brute is instantly transformed into a beautiful animated racer. His eyes seemed almost human. His ears did not droop now, but by their quick alternate motion giving signs of readiness, together with the stamping of his feet, slowly at first, but faster and more impatiently the moment it was intimated he might go; and the other was making repeated efforts to escape, his masters manuvring for the advantage.
The little Indian boy managed his horse alone as the chief gave quiet signs. Three times had they come up to the scratch without a start. Crabb seemed now very solicitous about the race. I think, probably, he had by this time found the "hornet in his hat;" at all events, he was pale, and his rider exhibited signs of uneasiness.
At length, thinking to take what western sportsmen call a "bulge," he said, "Ready!"--"Go," said the little Indian boy, and away went twenty thousand dollars in the heels of the Indian horse, twenty feet ahead before the other crossed the mark, making the gap wider at every bound.
Away they sped, like flying birds. The crowd joined in shouts and hurras, hundreds of all colors falling in behind and following up.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE HORSE RACE.]
Away go the flying horses, and several thousand eyes following the _yellow rider_, still ahead, as they grow smaller and smaller in the distance, until the Indian horse turns the stake at the farther end in advance. Now they come, increasing in size to the eye as they approach, the _yellow rider_ still in advance. Crabb gasps for breath, and declares that his horse "will yet win."
The eagle eye of the old chief lights up as they come nearer, his rider still leading. Excitement is now beyond words to tell. Look again!--the Indian boy _comes alone_, rattling his dry willows over a horse that was making the fastest time on record, considering the nature of the turf.
The Indians along the line fell in, and ran beside the victorious racer, encouraging him with wild, unearthly shouts, while he comes to the starting-point, running the five miles and one-fourth and eighty-three yards in the unprecedented time of _nine minutes_ and _fifty-one seconds_; winning the race and money, much to the joy of the Indians and their few friends, and to the grief of Crabb and his many friends. He, without waiting to hear from judges, ran down the track nearly a mile, and, rushing up to the gay jockey, with silver spurs, white pants, blue cap, and crimson jacket, who had dismounted, and was leading the now docile, fine-blooded English racer by his silver mountings, inquired, "What"s the matter, Jimmy?"--"Matter? Why, this hoss can"t run a bit. That"s what"s the matter."
Do my readers wonder now that so many white men, along the frontier line, declare that all good "Injins are three feet under the ground"?
Before leaving this subject, it is proper to state that How-lish-wam-po gave back to Crabb the saddle-horse he had won from him, and also money to travel on; and with a word of caution about stealing out his compet.i.tor"s horse, and having a race all alone, remarking dryly, "Me-si-ka wake c.u.m-tux ic-ta mamook ni-ka tru-i-tan klat-a-wa (You did not know how to make my horse run). Cla-hoy-um, Crabb" (Good-by, Crabb).
I will further state that many years ago these Indians had exchanged horses with emigrants going into Oregon, across the plains, and that this celebrated Indian race-horse is a half-breed.
The old chief refused to sell him, saying, "I don"t need money. I have plenty. I am a chief. I have got the fastest horses in the world. I bet one thousand horses I can beat any man running horses."
He refused an offer of five thousand dollars for this renowned courser.
Several efforts have been made to induce him to take his horse to the State fair.
He at one time consented, saying, "I will take my horse just to show the white men what a race-horse _is_." But he was unwell when the time came, and failed to go.