Still, mysteriously, the scent of man
was there.
Alcatraz stamped with impatience and when the grey whinnied he merely
shook his head angrily in answer. It irritated him to have her always
right, always cautious, and besides he felt somewhat shamed by the
necessity of using her as a court of last appeal. To be sure, he was a
keener judge of the sights and scents of the mountain desert than any
of the half-bred mares but though he lived to fifty years he would
never approach the stored wisdom, the uncanny acuteness of eye, ear,
and nostril of the wild grey. Her view-point seemed, at times, that of
the high-sailing buzzards, for she guessed, miles and miles away, what
water-holes were dry and what "tanks" brimmed with water; what trails
were broken by landslides since they had last been travelled and where
new trails might be found or made; when it was wise to seek shelter
because a sand-storm was brewing; where the grass grew thickest and
most succulent on far-off hillsides; and so on and on the treasury of
her knowledge could be delved in inexhaustibly.
On only one point did he feel that his cleverness might rival hers and
that point was the most important of all--man the Great Destroyer.
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