h of grass. Having done
this, he left him to graze as far as his tether would permit; and,
after supping with Crusoe, lay down to-rest, not a little elated with
his success in this first attempt at "creasing" and "breaking" a
mustang.

CHAPTER XVI.

_Dick becomes a horse tamer--Resumes his journey--Charlie's
doings--Misfortunes which lead to, but do not terminate in, the Rocky
Mountains--A grizzly bear_.

There is a proverb--or a saying--or at least somebody or book has told
us, that some Irishman once said, "Be aisy; or, if ye can't be aisy,
be as aisy as ye can."

Now, we count that good advice, and strongly recommend it to all and
sundry. Had we been at the side of Dick Varley on the night after his
taming of the wild horse, we would have strongly urged that advice
upon him. Whether he would have listened to it or not is quite another
question; we rather think not. Reader, if you wish to know why, go and
do what he did, and if you feel no curious sensations about the region
of the loins after it, we will tell you why Dick Varley wouldn't have
listened to that advice. Can a man feel as if his joints were wrenched
out of their sockets, and listen to advice--be that advice good or
bad? Can he feel as though these joints were trying to re-set and
re-dislocate themselves perpetually, and listen to advice? Can he feel
as if he were sitting down on red-hot iron, when he's not sitting down
at all, and listen to advice? Can he--but no! why pursue the subject.
Poor Dick spent that night in misery, and the greater part of the
following day in sleep, to make up for it.

When he got up to breakfast in the afternoon he felt much better, but
shaky.

"Now, pup," he said, stretching himself, "we'll go and see our horse.
_Ours_, pup; yours and mine: didn't you help to catch him, eh, pup?"

Crusoe acknowledged the fact with a wag and a playful
"bow-wow--wow-oo-ow!" and followed his master to the place where
the horse had been picketed. It was standing there quite quiet, but
looking a little timid.

Dick went boldly up to it, and patted its head and stroked its nose,
for nothing is so likely to alarm either a tame or a wild horse as any
appearance of timidity or hesitation on the part of those who approach
them.

After treating it thus for a short time, he stroked down its neck,
and then its shoulders--the horse eying him all the time nervously.
Gradually he stroked its back and limbs gently, and walked quietly
round