SIX months later we find Billy Jr. and Stubby near the City of Mexico, on a large stock-farm, where are raised fierce, blooded bulls intended for the bull-fights that take place every Sunday in the City.
It would take too long to tell of all the troubles and mishaps the two friends met with on their long journey from San Francisco to Old Mexico, but with all their trials they enjoyed it, for both were good travelers and made the best of things without complaining when matters could not be helped.
Once Stubby came very near getting drowned in a fierce mountain stream that had become swollen from recent rains until it was twice its usual size. Caught in one of the whirling eddies, he was spun round and round until, dizzy and sick, he could not open his eyes, and had not strength enough left to swim against the strong, swift current. He was just giving up hope when he felt some large object strike his side and, opening his eyes for an instant, he saw Billy Jr., who swam out to rescue him.
“Climb on my back, Stub,” Billy cried, “and I will swim to shore with you.” Stubby did as he was bidden and soon they were shaking themselves dry on the bank.
Another mishap, one in which Stubby was the hero and saved Billy Jr.’s life, occurred one moonlight night out on the plains. They were both sound asleep when Stubby was suddenly awakened by hearing a peculiar rattling sound and, looking about, he was horrified to see a snake just ready to spring upon Billy, who was sleeping peacefully. With a bound, Stubby had the reptile by the neck and in a second had shaken him to death. In fact, he had given him such a crack that the snake’s head nearly flew off. Small dogs have often been known to kill snakes in this way. Billy Jr. was very much surprised when he awoke and saw a big snake lying under his very nose. Stubby had dragged it there to see what Billy would do when he saw it. Had it been alive Billy would surely have been bitten, for he was too much surprised to move. He stared at it with blinking eyes to see if his sight was not deceiving him. When he discovered that it was really a snake he ducked his head and hooked it away.
“Did you see that rattlesnake, Stubby? I had a pretty close call, didn’t I?”
“Not so very,” said Stubby, “for dead snakes do not bite.”
“That was no dead snake, for it was not there when I laid down, and dead snakes do not crawl.”
“You are right there, Billy Jr., but that snake was dead and I ought to know, for I killed it and dragged it there just to scare you.”
“Oh, you did, did you? and where did you find it?”
“I found it about three feet from your head ready to spring upon you, so I made a spring first and killed it before it had time to bite you. After I killed it I put it under your nose for fun.”
“You are a brick, Stubby, that is what you are; a regular gold brick, and I will not forget this in a hurry. I hope some day I shall have a chance to do you a good turn or save your life.”
“Well, don’t lay awake nights trying to think of some way to help me, for you have already saved my life once, when you pulled me out of the whirlpool,” said Stubby.
One day when they were trotting along the foot-hills of the Sierra Madre mountains, tired and footsore, hungry and cold, feeling thoroughly discouraged and as if they should never reach their destination, they thought they saw a curl of blue smoke rising from the base of one of the foot-hills in among some tall cacti.
“Look, Billy, look,” cried Stubby, who had been the first to see it; “that smoke means some man is building a fire to cook his supper by. I have seen a little curl of smoke like that before and it always means that, at this time of the day. Let’s go and see if he won’t share with us. I am so hungry for a piece of meat I feel as if I could almost kill some one, if I had to, to get it, and I am so thin, I am sure if you listened you could hear my ribs rattle. Raw prairie-dog meat and roots are not very filling food for a dog, and I feel as if the only thing I had had to eat since we left Frisco was those ground bird eggs I sucked a week ago. You did not like them and said they were too stale and that if I waited half an hour they would hatch out and I could then have birds instead of eggs. You must be just as hungry, for buffalo grass may sustain life but it is dry stuff to eat, while the cacti leaves are juicy enough to eat, but the thorns on their edges run into one’s nose and mouth and make them bleed.”
While Stubby had been doing all this talking, they had cautiously approached the spot where they had seen the smoke rising and soon the delicious odor of juicy steak was wafted to their nostrils by the evening breeze.
“Oh, Billy, do you smell that steak? Don’t it smell better than anything you ever smelt in your life before?”
“Well, to tell you the truth, I would prefer carrots or turnips. You forget I am not a meat eater. I am a vegetarian, but for all that I can appreciate your feelings. Look between those two tall cacti. There is an Indian as sure as I am alive!” said Billy.
“By the Great Black Bear!” said Stubby, “you are right and I see my finish, for if I go nosing around here, they will catch me and make soup of me in a twinkling.”
IN THE VERY CENTER STOOD LITTLE DUKE.
“Have no fear, Stubby. I know the Indians well. They are fond of dogs and they never kill and eat them unless they are starving. There is no danger of that now, for from the smell of cooking meat which we get, they have evidently stolen a stray cow or steer from some herd and are now cooking it whole over a camp-fire for the entire band. There is too strong a smell to emanate from a small piece, so if I am right you are in luck, and likely to have your fill before the night is over. They only eat the best part of the animal and throw the rest to their dogs.”
This proved to be the case and after the Indians had eaten their fill, they rolled themselves in their blankets and went to sleep. Billy and Stubby sneaked about and found the dogs at the feast. At first these dogs were going to protest, but Billy called to them, “The first one of you that yelps or objects to our helping ourselves I will rip open with my horns.” As he looked big and fierce enough to carry out this threat, they thought he meant what he said and so let him and Stubby alone and fell to eating in silence.
“Now, go ahead, Stubby, and eat your fill, while I wander around and see if I can’t find some sweet herbs, for the squaws generally have a lot hanging outside of their wigwams drying, along with sweet grass and onions. Oh, the very thought of onions makes my mouth water! so good-bye for awhile, but if you should want me, give the signal by three short barks.”
The next morning the Indians were delighted to find a large black goat and a smart, little yellow dog. They camped here for some time, making baskets and blankets, and then started on their way to the City of Mexico to sell their wares. Billy and Stubby stayed with them until they passed the stock-farm before mentioned in this chapter, and then they left, made friends with the people on the farm, and became a fixture there for some time.
They had been on this farm three months when the incident I am about to relate happened.
