as the wounds pained him. Not that he reasoned
all this out. He was but a dumb animal, and pure
reasoning was blissfully apart from him. But he
did know the difference between what had been
desired of him and what he himself had brought
on through sheer wilfulness. Thus he awakened,
having learned this lesson with his headlong
plunge into the fence, and having added to the
lesson of the futility of rebellion the very clear
desires of his mistress. Other and less intelligent
horses would have continued to respond to the
ancestral voice within till death. But Pat was
more than such a horse.

With the men gone, he revealed his intelligence
further. Helen commissioned Miguel to fit him
with her saddle and bridle, then hurried herself
off to the house. Returning, clad in riding-habit
and with hands full of sugar and quartered apples,
she fed these delectables to him till his mouth
dripped delightful juices. Then, while yet he
munched the sweets, she mounted fearlessly.
Sitting perfectly still for a time to accustom
him to her weight, she then gave him the
rein and word. Without hesitation he responded,
stepping out across the inclosure, acknowledging
her guiding rein in the corner, returning
to the starting-place and, with the word,
coming to a stop. It was all very beautiful,
rightly understood, and, thrilled with her success,
Helen sat still again, sat for a long time, gazing
soberly down upon him. Then she bent forward.

"Pat," she began, her voice breaking a little

[[70]]

p069 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p070w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p071

v?