Salve,
last day of November 2014, so a little recollection by Mr. Kurz during his adventures in the United States (this time 1850 summer and 1851)
First, our author bought yet another horse, he named her Fashion:
'On August 7 I
bought a dainty black mare with white feet —
all four white.
She
is a genuine mustang. What a joy to wander
about the forest,
where Fashion carries me to distances I could
not otherwise
accomplish and so widens the sphere of my observa-
tions. With
Fashion's aid I have been able to visit often the
long), to bathe in
its clear waters, to sketch groups of trees on its
shores that are
hardly surpassed by those on the Cahokia.'
of some of them and,
in exchange, furnished the young fellows with
10-cent pieces of
rods out of which they make arrows for the
hunting season.
'At 20 feet they hit
small objects with great accuracy; at a greater
distance the least
movement of the air may exert an adverse effect.
At 100 feet they fly
the arrows with great skill but can not be sure
of piercing the
heart of the animal.'
Later that autumn of 1850 Kurz decided to invest in horses and the following story developed:
''In the autumn
newspapers began to publish articles about a plan
that was being
considered by the United States Government, in con-
nection with the
highway to California and Oregon, to enter into
negotiations with
the Indian tribes concerned and for that purpose to
invite the most
notable men among them to a conference next sum-
mer at Fort Laramie.
At once it occurred to me that I might enjoy
an agreeable
adventure and at the same time make it profitable
if I would
occasionally buy good horses, ride about the country on
horseback, sell the
animals at a profit next spring at Salt Lake, then,
on my return,
attend, if possible, that most interesting assembly at
Fort Laramie and
witness the signing of the treaty.
Then, of course,
horses declined in value. I lost a great deal of
money. The cost of
feeding the animals was out of proportion to
the amount their
work brought me. I was too fond of them and
spent too much
taking care of them.
One misfortune after
another induced me to sell the horses and
give up the idea of
going to Salt Lake.
First, I suffered
the loss
of an excellent mare
that I lent to an acquaintance who wished to
attend a Christmas
ball at Rochester. After he had run a race on
a bet, after the
manner of Americans, and over a rough, frozen road,
he left my fine
animal standing in front of a public house all in a
sweat and without
the protection of a blanket. In spite of all efforts
to save her, the
mare died from pneumonia. I suffered another
mishap in a pasture
where I allowed my four horses to exercise on
a beautiful March
day. A boy took great delight in playing tricks
on the spirited
animals and, to give himself further amusement, set
a dog on them just
to see them run an extended course. Having
become once
frightened, they did not stop running for several miles,
until they were far
into the forest. After a long search I came up
with them at last
but, as I drew nearer, calling gently to them, and
w'as sure of getting
hold of at least one of them, Avhinnying, they
turned abruptly
about, extended their legs, shook their manes and,
in a trice, had
disappeared from view.
For the reason that
Lily, one of my mares, appeared to be going
in the direction of
the place where she had been bred, I thought I
should find all of
them next morning at her old home. So early
in the day I hired a
horse and rode over there, through a region
that was unfamiliar
to me. My road, a most romantic one, led
through a
magnificent forest, over two beautiful streams, and across
a waste. Not a trace
of my horses anywhere ! Then I remained at
home two days,
hoping that my runaways might be induced by
hunger to return or
else that some news might come to me concern-
ing their
whereabouts. But they did not return. No news came.
On the fifth day
after their flight I hired another horse and rode
to the place where
two other mares of mine had been bred, i. e., to
the "Round
Prairie" on the high road to Fort Kearney near Newark.
There, fully 9 miles
from the city, I heard specifically that they had
been seen.
Fortunately, they had kept together and were so wild
and spirited that no
one could catch them; otherwise I should cer-
tainly have lost one
or the other. A young farmer who had seen
the two colts and
knew the range of their earlier pasture mounted
his horse and helped
me trace them. For several hours we followed
them from one farm
to another. It was perfectly evident that they
wanted to play with
their former companions and were searching
for them, and as the
brutes went visiting around in their old neigh-
borhood and tarried
here and there with their former playmates
we drew constantly
nearer.
Still following the
trace we came, late in the evening, into the
highroad again,
where dust made it impossible any longer to dis-
tinguish their
tracks.
Well, I spent the
night in Newark. Next morning, the sixth day
of their "spree,"
I was up with the sun to follow any trace I might
find on the highway.
Over a wide stretch I searched but could find
neither on the right
nor on the left any tracks made by sixteen feet.
I did find a place
beside the road where they had lain down together,
but on what night?
That was a puzzle too difficult for my wits to
solve. My only
possible clue was fresh dung. After breakfast I
mounted my hired pad
with the intention of going home, hoping that
my straying animals
would instinctively return, finally, to the place
where they had
received good nurture and rich forage. Upon my
inquiry at a farm on
the highway I was told that toward sunset the
previous evening
four horses — according to the description, they
must be mine —
were seen prancing along the way in the direction of
Savannah.
A little farther on,
where the road from Marysville branches off
from the highroad to
Fort Kearney, I heard from a countryman
living there that
during the night four horses wanted to rest on the
straw lying in front
of his fence, that the roan mare (my Bet) had
already lain down
but, for fear that their presence might tempt his
own beasts to break
out, he had driven them away. Which way they
went he did not
know.
"Home, of
course, to their own comfortable stalls," I said to myself.
I rode rapidly back
to Savannah in happy expectation. There I
found no trace of my
runaways' return. So, after I had eaten, I
had to mount a fresh
horse and renew the search. Following my
latest clue, I rode
until the evening in all directions, through forest
and over plain,
without result. Vexed and tired, I returned to the
Savannah road.
Suddenly I was aroused from my ill-humored
reverie by hearing
some one call out as I was passing a farm,
"Hulloa,
Dutchman!" Turning my head, I saw a man sitting on
his fence. He called
out again, "Look here ! Are them your
horses?" Sure
enough, there they were, evidently half -starved.
There was no grass.
At best, they could only have fed on tender
buds just appearing
on the shrubs. Besides, they had been racing
about the country
without rest.
Several hours
earlier, the man said, those hungry horses had
stopped at his
fence, cast longing looks toward his stacks of corn,
and then made known
their desires by an eager neighing. He took
them in, because he
had heard that I was searching for them. The
birds were caught,
to be sure, but I had trouble still to get them in
hand. So wildly they
ran about, so persistently parried our efforts
on every hand, that
I thought they must be possessed with the devil.
Finally we got them
in a corner and held them in fear by cracking
a whip until I had
bridled them. I saddled the filly, because she
remained
uncontrollable longer than the others. Then I paid the
man for his
assistance and set out home on a gallop. Never in my
life have I ridden
as fast; the horses seemed really running a race
with one another to
see which could reach home first. I thought
I should he jerked
off the saddle.
I had hardly got my
team of four in good condition again when
they ran away with
me and plunged with the vehicle down a hill.
To practice driving
a four-in-hand and to accustom the horses to
that mode of
traveling I took drives every day in the vicinity. I
got excellent
practice on the usual American roads, for they abounded
in stumps, steep
slopes, and many running streams, but to learn
how to manage with
sloughs, ditches, narrow passes, curves, and
the turning of
corners I chose the forest road to Nodaway Island,
to the
Hundred-and-Two, and along the Little Platte River, all the
way out to the
parade ground. The horses pulled so well together,
traveled with such
uniform gait, were so instantly responsive to
the rein, always
stood so quietly when halted, backed without plung-
ing, trotted so well
without need of the whip, and the roan mare
proved such an
excellent lead horse, I was planning with much
pleasure to take a
journey with them to Deseret.
In April I drove
alone to St. Joseph to talk over plans for the
journey with my
future traveling companion. On my return, about
3 miles from
Savannah, the offside horse cast a shoe on her left rear
foot. I stopped
immediately, for she seemed to be limping. Since
no one was there to
take the reins, I threw them lightly on the seat
cushion and went to
examine the hoof. In spite of the care I took,
stroking her
soothingly and speaking gently, the instant I attempted
to raise her foot
she gave a leap and off and away all of them went
over stock and
stone, up hill and down dale, as if in a mad pursuit.
I tried at once to
seize the bridle rein of the lead horse but, in run-
ning, I stumbled
over a stump and fell. When I got up I saw the
vehicle plunging on
— here a cushion hurled away, there my cloak.
"Adieu, je t'ai
vu!" I thought. "Confound it all!'
I ran after them, of
course, as fast as I could. I had an idea
that they were stuck
fast in the forest. Sure enough, below the
first hill, I found
Bet wallowing in the dust, trying to get free
from the harness and
the long lines that were wound about her.
Having set her free,
I ordered her to get up. She could hardly
stand ! She was
trembling in every limb and spread her feet wide
apart for fear of
falling. She had lost her head entirely. I led
her away from the
road and tied her tight and fast at a spot where
there was grass;
then I went in search of the others. About a
hundred feet farther
on I found Lily, Bet's companion, standing,
bewildered, in the
road.
Aside from a wound
in her left rear shank, inflicted, most likely,
by the jDole, she
had suffered no injury. I swung myself lightly
upon her back and
went on after the two shaft horses and the hack.
I found them at the
top of the hist steep hill as one approaches
Savannah.
Fortunately they could go no farther; they had hardly
come out alive from
the creek below. The two horses were caught
in some bushes and
the vehicle was jammed against a tree. The
horse on the right
had thrown her hind leg over the pole and was
evidently forced to
stop. The vehicle had most probably been car-
ried on until it was
held fast by striking the tree trunk.
I disentangled the
beasts from their harness to see what damage
had been done. Lily
had suffered no injury — was only lamed. The
hack could stand on
its wheels, to be sure, but many screws were
gone. I went back to
bring Bet, the cushion, and my cloak. Then,
having harnessed
Lily and the colt together, I led them slowly home.
The horses had to be
cared for and doctored ; the vehicle and harness
had to be mended.
Finally, at the end
of April I was ready for my journey; my
wagon was provided
with a canvas top and provisioned with zwie-
bach, smoked meat,
butter, eggs, sugar, tea, cooking and drinking
utensils, oats and
corn meal for the horses, a saddle, a double-bar-
reled shotgun, a
hunting knife, and four 30-foot cords with iron pins.
The last-named were
to be used for tying the horses.
My intended
companion on the journey, a young American, was
to wait in St.
Joseph and be ready to set out with me on the first
of May.
Notwithstanding that he had detained me with his prom-
ises to go, Steiner
refused, when I arrived in St. Joseph, to con-
sider taking the
trip. He had not the means, he said, to provide his
own personal outfit.
Now, I had asked nothing more of him than
that he bring his
own provisions, and, in return for his seat in my
wagon, that he look
after the vehicle on the journey, while I took
care of the horses.
A fine predicament!
To travel with four horses and a wagon
alone was not to be
considered, for both team and vehicle would
have to be
constantly guarded. To find another trustworthy per-
son to go with me
could not be done at once. Therefore, my grand
display with
four-in-hand came to a sudden end. I determined
to sell both wagon
and team. But now, when I wanted a purchaser,
nobody would buy.
Earlier, when I did not wish to part with my
horses, I had many
advantageous offers.
May 9. Lily and the
colt sold in Weston. Bet placed on a farm
so that she may grow
strong again. Such a fine mare one is justified
in giving the best
attention ; she will certainly bring $60 more. The
wagon and harness as
well as the large mare, Landy, left behind
to be sold, so that
on my return I shall have some funds. Trip to
Salt Lake and Fort
Laramie given up''
...thus ended this horse story
another tribal warriors of the Old Northwest - the Winnebago painted by
Charles Deas during the 1840s
enjoy
