I ran after
him, as I thought, but missed him. I stood still to listen. This side
of the track was quite deserted, but the noise of the runners behind me,
though not loud, was enough to confuse the sound of his footsteps.
After a moment, though, I heard a slight scraping of shingle, and ran
forward again--plump against the warm body of some living thing.
It was a black mare, standing here close under the cliff, with the kegs
ready strapped upon her. I saw the dark forms of other horses behind,
and while I patted the mare's shoulder, and she turned her head to sniff
and nuzzle me, another horse came up laden from the water and joined the
troop behind, no man leading or following. The queer thing about my
mare, though, was that her coat had no grease on it like the others, but
was close and smooth as satin, and her mane as long as a colt's.
She seemed so friendly that I, who had never sat astride a horse in my
life, took a sudden desire to try what it felt like. So I walked round,
and finding a low rock on the other side, I mounted it and laid my hands
on her mane.
On this she backed a foot or two and seemed uneasy, then turned her
muzzle and sniffed at my leg. "I suppose," thought I, "a Cornish horse
won't understand my language." But I whispered to her to be quiet, and
quiet she was at once. I found that the tubs, being slung high, made
quite a little cradle between them.
Pages:
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180