He kept on fairly steadily, nibbling in the bunch-grass as he
went, now trotting a little, now cantering lightly across a stretch
barren of forage. So he came, just after noonday, down-wind from the
scent of horses.
His own kind, yet he was worried, for he connected horses inevitably
with the thought of man. Nevertheless, he decided to explore, and coming
warily over a rise of ground he saw, in the hollow beyond, a whole troop
of horses without a man in sight. He was too wise to jump to conclusions
but slipped back from his watch-post and ran in a long semi-circle about
the herd, but having made out that there was no cowpuncher nearby, he
came back to his original place of vantage and resumed his observations.
A beautiful black stallion wandered up-wind from the rest and another,
younger horse, was on the other side of the herd. Between was a raggedly
assembled group of mares old and young, with leggy yearlings,
deer-footed colts, and more than one time-worn stallion. It was a motley
assembly. The colors ranged from piebald to grey and there was a great
diversity in stature. Presently the black stallion neighed softly,
whereat the rest of the herd bunched closely together, the mares with
the foals on the side, and all heads turning towards the black who now
galloped to a hilltop, surveyed the horizon and presently dropped his
head to graze again.
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