ing solicitous eyes in the direction of the saddle-
horse, he stepped in alongside. But here he met
with even more painful objections. The horse
reached around and bit him sharply in the neck.
It hurt, hurt awfully, but he persisted, only to
receive another sharp bite, this time more savage.
Sounding a baby whimper of despair, he ran back
to the door and out into the motherless corral.

He made for the corner nearest the house. But
he did not stand still. He cocked his ears, pawed
the ground, turned again and again, swallowed
frequently. And presently he set out once more in
search of his mother; though this time he wisely
kept out of the stable. He held close to the fence,
following it around and around, pausing now and
again with eyes strained between the boards. But
he could not find his mother. Finally, resorting
to the one effort left to him that might bring
result, he flung up his little head and sounded a
piteous call -- not once, but many times.

"Aunty," declared the girl, rushing into the
genial presence of the Mexican cook, "what shall
I do about that colt? He must be hungry!"

The old woman nodded and smiled knowingly.
Then she stepped into the pantry. She filled a
long-necked bottle with milk and sugar and a
dash of lime-water, and, placing the bottle in the
girl's hands, shoved her gently out the door and
into the _patio_.

Racing across to the corral, Helen reached the
colt with much-needed aid. He closed upon the
bottle with an eagerness that seemed to tell he

[[40]]

p039 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p040w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p041

v?