your pony. He’s all right now.”

I led Prince away, while father and the stranger sat down in the shade of a tent, and began talking about the latter’s horsemanship, which father considered very remarkable.

“Oh, that’s nothing; I was raised on horseback,” said the Californian; “I ran away from home when a boy, went to sea, and finally landed in the Sandwich Islands, where I fell in with a circus, with which I remained two years. During that time I became a celebrated bareback rider. I then went to California, being attracted there by the gold excitement, the news of which had reached the Islands. I did not go to mining, however, but went to work as a bocarro⁠—catching and breaking wild horses, great numbers of which were roaming through California. Last summer we caught this herd that we have brought with us across the plains, and are taking it to the States to sell. I came with the outfit, as it gave me a good opportunity to visit my relatives, who live at Cleveland, Ohio. I also had an uncle over at Weston, across the river, when I ran away, and tomorrow I am going to visit the town to see if he is there yet.”

“I am acquainted in Weston,” said father, “and perhaps I can tell you about your uncle. What is his name?”

“Elijah Cody,” said the Californian.

“Elijah Cody!” exclaimed father, in great surprise; “why Elijah Cody is my brother. I am Isaac Cody. Who are you?”

“My name is Horace Billings,” was the reply.

“And you are my nephew. You are the son of my sister Sophia.”

Both men sprang to their feet and began shaking hands in the heartiest manner possible.

The next moment father called me, and said: “Come here, my son. Here is someone you want to know.”

As I approached he introduced us. “Horace, this is my only son. We call him little Billy;” and turning to me said: “Billy, my boy, this is a cousin of yours, Horace Billings, whom you’ve often heard me speak of.”

Horace Billings had never been heard of from the day he ran away from home, and his relatives had frequently wondered what had become of him. His appearance, therefore, in our camp in the guise of a Californian was somewhat of a mystery to me, and I could hardly comprehend it until I had heard his adventurous story and learned the accidental manner in which he and father had made themselves known to each other.

Neither father nor myself would be satisfied until he had given us a full account of his wanderings and adventures, which were very exciting to me.

Late in the afternoon and just before the sun sank to rest, the conversation again turned upon horses and horsemanship. Father told Billings all about Little Gray, and his great fault of running away. Billings laughed and said Little Gray could not run away with him.

After supper he went out to look at the horse, which was picketed in the grass. Surveying the animal carefully, he untied the lariat and slipped a running noose over his nose; then giving a light bound, he was on his back in a second, and away went the horse and his rider, circling round and round on the prairie. Billings managed him by the rope alone, and convinced him that he was his master. When half a mile away, the horse started for camp at the top of his speed. Billings stood straight up on his back, and thus rode him into camp. As he passed us he jumped to the ground, allowed the horse to run to the full length of the lariat, when he threw him a complete somersault.

“That’s a pretty good horse,” said Billings.

“Yes, he’s a California horse; he was captured there wild,” replied father. The exhibition of horsemanship given by Billings on this occasion was really wonderful, and was the most skillful and daring feat of the kind that I ever witnessed. The remainder of the evening was spent around the camp, and Horace, who remained there, entertained us with several interesting chapters of his experiences.

Next morning he walked over to his own camp, but soon returned, mounted on a beautiful horse, with a handsome saddle, bridle and lariat. I thought he was a magnificent looking man. I envied his appearance, and my ambition just then was to become as skillful a horseman as he was. He had rigged himself out in his best style in order to make a good impression on his uncle at Weston, whither father and I accompanied him on horseback.

He was cordially received by Uncle Elijah, who paid him every possible attention, and gave me a handsome saddle and bridle for my pony, and in the evening when we rode out to the farm to see my mother and sisters, I started ahead to show them my present, as well as to tell them who was coming. They were delighted to see the long-lost Horace, and invited him to remain with us. When we returned to camp next day, Horace settled up with the proprietor of the horses, having concluded to make his home with us for that summer at least.

Father employed him in cutting house logs and building houses, but this work not being adapted to his tastes, he soon gave it up, and obtained government employment in catching United States horses. During the previous spring the government herd had stampeded from Fort Leavenworth, and between two and three hundred of the horses were running at large over the Kansas prairies, and had become quite wild. A reward of ten dollars was offered for every one of the horses that was captured and delivered to the quartermaster at Fort Leavenworth. This kind of work of course just suited the roaming disposition of Billings, especially as it was similar to that in which he had been engaged in California. The horses had to be caught with a lasso, with which he was very expert. He borrowed Little

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