And now began a struggle between the man and the brute--each young,
each indomitable, for neither had as yet been mastered, and
therefore each was alike disdainful of the other. The head of the
horse was high and proud, his round hoofs spurned the earth beneath,
fire was in his eye, rage in his heart--rage and scorn of this
presumptuous Two-legs who sought to pit his puny strength against
his own quivering, four-legged might. Therefore he mocked Two-legs,
scorned and contemned him, laughed ha! ha! (like his long-dead
ancestor among the Psalmist's trumpets) and gathered himself
together--eager for the battle.
But the eyes of Barnabas were wide and bright, his lips were curved,
his jaw salient--his knees gripped tight, and his grasp was strong
and sure upon the reins.
And now Four-legs, having voiced his defiance, tossed his crest on
high, then plunged giddily forward, was checked amid a whirlwind of
lashing hoofs, rose on his hind legs higher and higher, swinging
giddily round and round, felt a stunning blow, staggered, and
dropping on all fours, stove in the stable door with a fling of his
hind hoofs. But the eyes of Barnabas were glowing, his lips still
curved, and his grip upon the reins was more masterful.
Pages:
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272