III: FROM LOOKOUT LAKE TO THE MISSOURI RIVER


Our first night in the Rattletrap passed without further
incident--that is, the greater part of it passed, though Ollie
declared that it lacked a good deal of being all passed when we
got up. The chief reason for our early rise was Old Blacky, a
member of our household (or perhaps wagonhold) not yet introduced
in this history. Old Blacky was the mate of Old Browny, and
the two made up our team of horses. Old Browny was a very
well-behaved, respectable old nag, extremely fond of quiet and
oats. He invariably slept all night, and usually much of the day;
he was a fit companion for our dog. It was the firm belief of all
on board that Old Browny could sleep anywhere on a fairly level
stretch of road without stopping.

But Old Blacky was another sort of beast. He didn't seem to
require any sleep at all. What Old Blacky wanted was food. He
loved to sit up all night and eat, and keep us awake. He seldom
even lay down at night, but would moon about the camp and blunder
against things, fall over the wagon-tongue, and otherwise
misbehave. Sometimes when we camped where the grass was not just
to his liking he would put his head into the wagon and help
himself to a mouthful of bedquilt or a bite of pillow. He was
little but an appetite mounted on four legs, and next to food he
loved a fight. Besides the name of Old Blacky, we also knew him
as the Blacksmith's Pet; but this will have to be explained later
on.

On this first morning, just as it was becoming light in the