awed the
earth in all the pride of independent freedom, should suddenly come down
so low as to carry a hunter on his back and be named Charlie!

The next piece of instruction began by Crusoe being led up under
Charlie's nose, and while Dick patted the dog with his right hand he
patted the horse with his left. It backed a good deal at first and
snorted, but Crusoe walked slowly and quietly in front of him several
times, each time coming nearer, until he again stood under his nose,
then the horse smelt him nervously, and gave a sigh of relief when he
found that Crusoe paid no attention to him whatever. Dick then ordered
the dog to lie down at Charlie's feet, and went to the camp to fetch his
rifle, and buffalo robe, and pack of meat. These and all the other
things belonging to him were presented for inspection, one by one, to
the horse, who arched his neck, and put forward his ears, and eyed them
at first, but smelt them all over, and seemed to feel more easy in his
mind.

Next, the buffalo robe was rubbed over his nose, then over his eyes and
head, then down his neck and shoulder, and lastly was placed on his
back. Then it was taken off and _flung_ on; after that it was strapped
on, and the various little items of the camp were attached to it. This
done, Dick took up his rifle and let him smell it; then he put his hand
on Charlie's shoulder, vaulted on to his back, and rode away.

Charlie's education was completed; and now our hero's journey began
again in earnest, and with some prospect of its speedy termination.

In this course of training through which Dick put his wild horse, he had
been at much greater pains and had taken far longer time than is usually
the case among the Indians, who will catch, and "break," and ride a wild
horse into camp in less than _three hours_. But Dick wanted to do the
thing well, which the Indians are not careful to do; besides, it must be
borne in remembrance that this was his first attempt, and that his horse
was one of the best and most high spirited, while those caught by the
Indians, as we have said, are generally the poorest of a drove.

Dick now followed the trail of his lost companions at a rapid pace, yet
not so rapidly as he might have done; being averse to exhausting his
good dog and his new companion. Each night he encamped under the shade
of a tree or a bush when he could find one, or in the open prairie when
there were none, and, picketting his horse to a short stak