Young Travers, who was going to marry a woman on Long Island, met her father and brother only a few days before the weeding. The father and brother were both very interested in horses. They owned many fine horses, and they liked nothing better than to talk about horses all day long and every evening. Mr. Paddock, the father, had often said that when a young man asked for his permission to marry his daughter, he would ask the man in return, not if he lived straight, but if he could ride straight. And if the young man answered yes to this question, then he would receive the father’s permission to marry the woman.
Travers had met Miss Paddock and her mother while travelling in Europe. Thus, he did not meet the father and brother until he was invited to their home just a few days before the weeding. Unfortunately, this happened during the hunting season. He spent the early part of the first evening talking alone with Miss Paddock in a corner of the room, but later, when the woman had gone to bed, the father and son approached him. Young Paddock said, “You ride, of course, Mr. Travers.” Now Mr. Travers had never ridden a horse in his entire life, and he was, in fact, very afraid of horses, but Miss Paddock had told him earlier that he must answer yes to this the question. Therefore, Travers said that there was nothing he liked better than to ride horses. In fact, he said that he would rather ride than eat or sleep.
“That’s fine,” said young Paddock. “In that case I’ll give you our horse, Satan, for the hunt tomorrow morning. Satan is always a little difficult to control at the beginning of the season, and last year he killed one of our workers. Since that time, none of us like to ride him. But you can probably control him easily.”
Mr. Travers did not sleep very well that night and dreamed of taking long jumps into space on a wild horse that breathed fire from its nose.
The next morning he wanted to say that he was ill, and, in fact, he did not feel too well. But he knew that he would probably have to ride a horse sometime during his visit, so he decided to do his best. The weather was rather bad, and the sky was dark. Travers hoped that perhaps the hunt would be cancelled. But, as he lay in doubt, the servant knocked at the door with his riding clothes and his hot water for shaving.
He came downstairs looking very sad. His horse had been taken to the place where all the hunters were supposed to meet. Travers felt weak in his stomach when he saw Satan. The horse was pulling three of the servants who were trying to hold him. They almost fell to the ground. Travers decided to wait until the other hunters had left before he got onto his horse so that no one would see what a poor rider he was. Thus, all the dogs left, and the hunters started off after them at a gallop. Travers closed his teeth tightly, pulled his hat down over his ears, and climbed into the saddle. Quite by accident, his feet fell into the proper position, but in the next instant, he started off with the feeling that he was riding on top of a fast-moving train.
Satan passed all the other horses in less than five minutes and was soon close to the dogs that were following the fox. It was impossible for the Travers to hold the horse back. Travers had taken hold of the horse’s saddle with both hands, and he was holding on with all his strength. Whenever Satan jumped, Travers closed his eyes. He often didn’t see where they were going, and he never knew how he happened to remain in the saddle. Fortunately, he was so far ahead of the other riders that no one was able to see how badly he rode. Ina any case, he led all the other hunters in bravery and speed, and not even young Paddock was near him from the very beginning of the hunt.
There was a broad hill in front of him and another hill just on the other side of the first hill. There was also a broad stream between the two hills. No one had ever tried to cross this stream on a horse. It was considered more of a swim than anything else, and the hunters always crossed it by a bridge to the left. Travers saw the bridge and tried to pull Satan’s head in that direction, but Satan kept straight on like an express train. They went down the first hill toward the stream as if they were travelling on level land. The hunters in the rear gave a cry of warning, but Travers only closed his eyes and held on to the saddle tightly. He remembered that Satan had killed one man previously, and he trembled.
Then Satan suddenly rose in the air so high that Travers thought they would never come down again, but the horse did come down again safely on the other side of the stream. Travers, by some magic, still remained in the saddle. The next minute, Satan was over the second hill and had stopped in the very center of the dogs that by now had finally cornered the fox which they had been following. And the Travers showed that he was a specialist in riding horses, even though he could not ride at all. He took out his cigar case, and when the other hunters came up over the bridge and around the hill, they saw Travers seated comfortably on his horse. He was calmly smoking a cigar and patting Satan affectionately on the head.
“My dear girl,” said Mr. Paddock to his daughter that evening after the hunt, “if you love that young man and want him alive, make him promise to give up riding horses. I have never seen a better or a braver rider. Today he took several very dangerous jumps. But someday he is going to break his neck, and he should be stopped.”
Young Paddock, in turn, was so well pleased by his future brother-in-law’s excellent riding ability that, in the smoking room that evening before all the men, he offered to give him Satan as a present.
“No,” said Travers sadly. “I can’t accept. Your sister has already asked me to give up what is more important to me than anything else in life, and that is my riding. You see, she is worried about my safety and has asked me to promise her that I will never ride again. Therefore, I have given her my words.”
All the men protested loudly.
“Yes, I know,” said Travers to young Paddock. “It is difficult, but it shows what sacrifices a man will for the woman he loves.”
By Richard Harding Davis
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