Чёрный красавец

07 Ginger

           AtlastafteraterriblestruggleIthrewhimoffbackward.Iheardhimfallheavilyontheturf,andwithoutlookingbehindme,Igallopedofftotheotherendofthefield;thereIturnedroundandsawmypersecutorslowlyrisingfromthegroundandgoingintothestable.Istoodunderanoaktreeandwatched,butnoonecametocatchme.Thetimewenton,andthesunwasveryhot;thefliesswarmedroundmeandsettledonmybleedingflankswherethespurshaddugin.Ifelthungry,forIhadnoteatensincetheearlymorning,buttherewasnotenoughgrassinthatmeadowforagoosetoliveon.Iwantedtoliedownandrest,butwiththesaddlestrappedtightlyontherewasnocomfort,andtherewasnotadropofwatertodrink.Theafternoonworeon,andthesungotlow.Isawtheothercoltsledin,andIknewtheywerehavingagoodfeed.

           “Atlast,justasthesunwentdown,Isawtheoldmastercomeoutwithasieveinhishand.Hewasaveryfineoldgentlemanwithquitewhitehair,buthisvoicewaswhatIshouldknowhimbyamongathousand.Itwasnothigh,noryetlow,butfull,andclear,andkind,andwhenhegaveordersitwassosteadyanddecidedthateveryoneknew,bothhorsesandmen,thatheexpectedtobeobeyed.Hecamequietlyalong,nowandthenshakingtheoatsaboutthathehadinthesieve,andspeakingcheerfullyandgentlytome:’Comealong,lassie,comealong,lassie;comealong,comealong.’Istoodstillandlethimcomeup;heheldtheoatstome,andIbegantoeatwithoutfear;hisvoicetookallmyfearaway.

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