He was saved, but by how small a margin! He was
saved, but in his mind grew another problem. Why had the Great Enemy
chosen to kill the wolf and spare the horse? And how great was his
greatness who could strike down from afar that king of flesh-eaters in
the very moment of a kill! But he knew, very clearly, that he had been
in the hollow of the man's hand and had been spared; and that he had
been rescued from certain death; was not the scent of the wolf's pelt
still in his nostrils as the creature had leaped?
He came to the brook and snorted in wonder. In a sane moment he would
never have attempted that leap. For that matter, perhaps, no other
horse between the seas would have ever dreamed of the effort. Alcatraz
headed up the stream for a narrow place, shaking his head at the roar
of the current.
CHAPTER XXIV
THE CRISIS
When he found a place where he could jump the Little Smoky he picked
up his mares again and led them straight north, accepting their
whinnies of congratulation with a careless toss of his head as though
only women-folk would bother to think of such small matters. He had a
definite purpose, now. He had had enough of the Valley of the Eagles
with its haunting lobos and its cunning human hunters.
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