day Dick gave the wild horse his second lesson, and his name.
He called him "Charlie," after a much-loved companion in the Mustang
Valley. And long and heartily did Dick Varley laugh as he told the
horse his future designation in the presence of Crusoe, for it struck
him as somewhat ludicrous that a mustang which, two days ago, pawed
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 follow