a good, gentle horse

In justice to my Indian friends, and one in particular, I will relate one incident. Just before leaving, an Indian, Toquana, came to me and asked me if I did not want a horse. I told him that I had finished trading and had nothing to buy a horse with, and that I did not particularly need one as we would run the sled out on wheels until we struck snow, then we could haul it very well.

His reply was, "I do not want to sell you a horse. You are a friend, and are doing hard work for our good. I want you to live and keep strong; I do not want you to wear out. I know your legs are good, and I want you to keep them good to go over the deep snow where a horse cannot go. I have got a good, gentle horse that knows how to work; he is strong, can go through snow up to his breast. You take him, let him pull your sled just as long as he possibly can, then maybe you can find some place on the hill side where the snow is not deep; turn him out and if he lives I will get him, and it will be all right; if he dies, he will die mine, and I will know he died to help my friend, and that will be all right. I do not want anything at all, no presents or anything. I want to do this because I feel like doing it."

I took his horse, work him about eighty miles and then turned him on good grass where there was but little snow.



Forty Years Among the Indians: A True Yet Thrilling Narrative of the Author's Experiences Among the Natives. By Daniel W. Jones. Juvenile Instructor, Salt Lake City, UT. 1890. CHAPTER XXIX.