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Rh The brach was loosed, the bear sprang hence; Kriemhild’s husband would fain overtake him. He reached a thicket, where none could follow. The mighty beast weened now to escape from the hunter with his life, but the proud knight and a good leaped from his steed and began to chase him. The bear was helpless and could not flee away. At once the hero caught it and bound it quickly with not a wound, so that it might neither scratch nor bite the men. The doughty knight then tied it to his saddle and horsed him quickly. Through his overweening mood the bold warrior and a good brought it to the camp-fire as a pastime. In what lordly wise he rode to the quarters! Mickle was his boar-spear, strong and broad. A dainty sword hung downward to his spurs. The lord bare also a fair horn of ruddy gold. Never heard I tale of better hunting weeds. One saw him wear a coat of black and silky cloth and a hat of sable: rich enow it was. Ho, what costly bands he wore upon his quiver! A panther’s skin was drawn over it for its sweet fragrance’ sake. He bare a bow, which any but the hero must needs draw back with a windlass, and he would bend it. His vesture was befurred with otter skin from head to toe. From the bright fur shone out on both sides of the bold master of the hunt many a bar of gold. Balmung he also bare, a good broad sword, that was so sharp that it never failed when ’t was wielded ’gainst a helmet; its edge was good. In high spirits was the lordly huntsman. Sith I must tell you all the tale, his costly quiver was full of goodly darts, the heads a full hand’s breadth, on golden shafts. What he pierced therewith must needs die soon.


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 He is gentle and tractable almost beyond belief, yet sometimes most vicious.

There is no domesticated animal under the sway of man so easily spoiled as the horse. A fool can do in an hour what a wise man cannot undo in a month.

The horse when in the hands of a skilful handler is as plastic as wax. He can be taught tricks seemingly marvelous, and his memory is often better than that of his master.

He is never lost upon the trackless plains, or in the forest jungle. When his master is lost if he has sense enough to give his faithful steed the rein, he will usually carry him safely home.

The range of the horse in size, color and general makeup is very great, all the way from a diminutive little horse found upon some islands in the Pacific, which weighs only about forty pounds to the mighty draft horse, weighing nearly a ton. There is as much difference between a thoroughbred racing horse and a Percheron draft horse as there is between a gazelle and a bullock.

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 Often the horse is wise beyond the belief of man to understand, yet often confused and terrified by the little things.

Such is the strange ingredients of which the horse's blood is made. His temperament and disposition are almost as varied as the number of horses. No two horses can be treated exactly alike.

What will make one horse, will spoil another. But kindness, all horses are amenable to. The horse who will nicker and paw at the sight of his master coming into the barn door, is a lovable fellow.

While the horse who will go frantic if you merely laugh at him is another expression of this strange horse temperament.

Having horse sense is a proverb which needs to be qualified. When sensible, a horse's sense is of the highest order, but sometimes he loses all sense and becomes very scatterbrained, because of his sensitive disposition, which some foolish driver may have upset.

Those who have not been on a horse's back can have no idea of the thrill which comes

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 from feeling that sentient bundle of nerves and muscles galloping easily with his rider. There is a rhythm about it which no musician has ever caught. It goes to the blood like wine. The rider seems to catch the madness of the wild motion till horse and rider are one. And that is what makes a good rider, to be one with his mount.

While the horse has been admired by good men always, yet no domestic animal has occasionally been so abused. Man's relations with this noble animal, in some of its phases, forms the most shameful pages in human history. Often have men bartered away for a few paltry dollars the love and fidelity which goes with a score of years of faithful service and the old horse who had really earned a green old age is doomed to wear out his last years in terrible drudgery, beneath the lash of an inhuman master. So his last years which should have been sweet with pleasant memories are filled with pain and anguish of mind and body. The men who sold Joseph into slavery are gentlemen compared with these horse Judases

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 who betray the old steed. Where in modern literature can one find so thrilling a description of the warhorse, as this excerpt from the book of Job?

"Hast thou given the horse strength? Hast thou clothed his neck with thunder? Canst thou make him afraid as a grasshopper?

The glory of his nostrils is terrible. He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength: he goeth on to meet the armed men. He mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted; neither turneth he back from the sword.

The quiver rattleth against him, the glittering spear and the shield.

He swalloweth the ground with fierceness and rage: neither believeth he that it is the sound of the trumpet. He saith among the trumpets, "Ha, ha' and he smelleth the battle afar off, the thunder of the captains, and the shouting."

It is a great pity that the authorship of such a gem as the following toast to the horse is unknown. But it was found writ-

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 ten with a piece of charcoal on the walls of a Baltimore stable many decades ago and the poor groom who wrote it did not leave a clew to his identity. But all horse lovers will applaud the sentiment to the echo.

"Here's to that bundle of sentient nerves, with the eye of a gazelle, the heart of a woman, the courage of a gladiator, the docility of a slave, the proud carriage of a king, and the blind obedience of a soldier. The companion of the desert plain, the one that faithfully turns the furrows in the spring, that all the world may have abundant harvest, that furnishes the sport of kings, that, with blazing eye, and distended nostril, fearlessly carries our greatest generals through the carnage to renown; whose blood forms one of the ingredients that go to make the ink in which all history is written; and who finally, in black trappings, draws the humblest of us to the newly sodded threshold of Eternity."

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ATON MANOR stood in the very heart of the Blue Grass country of Kentucky, a region justly celebrated in song and story. It had stood there for over a hundred years, ever since the first Lord Eaton had built it. He was Lord Kendell Eaton, who had migrated from Virginia with Daniel Boone, and founded the state of Kentucky. Then this country had been a wilderness, where primeval nature held full sway, but now it was a highly civilized community, modified and subdued by man.

Eaton Manor was a large two-story house, with many outbuildings, not to mention the large stock barns and the long low tobacco sheds.

The Eatons in days gone by had

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 been very thrifty well-to-do people, but the present owner, Colonel Hillery Eaton, had neglected the property and it had many signs of decadence. But Colonel Eaton still maintained all the ceremonies and pride which his ancestors had brought from Virginia over a century before.

The family silver and portraits, some valuable pieces of furniture and many other priceless heirlooms were still displayed with pride when the Colonel became mellow and talked of better days and ways.

Eaton Manor also still boasted some of the best horses to be found anywhere in Kentucky. The Colonel might let the rest of the farm run down, but horse breeding he did not neglect.

He was also the owner of the best pack of hounds in the Blue Grass country. The Eatons had brought from Virginia with their other traditions a fondness for fox hunting and the annual Eaton chase was still celebrated for many counties around, although fox hunting on horseback was not general in Kentucky.

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 The occasion of the Eaton annual fox hunt, which was held in November, was a red letter day in the county. Then it was that gallant men and fair women, mounted upon Kentucky thoroughbreds, came from miles around, over the white turnpikes to the Manor to take part in the annual event.

At such times the ancient household took on new life. The master and servants all arrayed themselves in their best clothes, and put on their best style, that Eaton Manor might do itself proud, and keep up its reputation for hospitality, fair women, and fast horses.

The morning of the Eaton annual fox hunt, of which I write, dawned clear and bright, with a tang and freshness in the air that went to the blood like old wine. It was late November and the countryside was looking its best. The oaks had put on their russet and maroon mantles, and every tree and shrub that could boast autumn color had donned its brightest robes, for the great event. The usual hazy blue of the sleepy Kentucky sky had become a little more vital

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 and a little bluer and this gave an added zest to the landscape.

Long before daybreak the grooms had been busy brushing favorite hunters and looking after saddles and bridles. Every buckle and strap must shine on this day of all days. The hounds also had been fed a light breakfast, for they must not be overfed as this would dull their scent.

The men and women also had been busy with their riding habits, for every one wanted to look his best on this great occasion. It was hard to tell when the different parties finally cantered away whether the women in their gay riding habits, or the men in their close-fitting red jackets, and their long boots, best adorned their eager prancing hunters. Certain it was that they made a gay party.

On this memorable morning all roads led to Eaton Manor and men and women might have been seen cantering along the white turnpikes from every direction even before the sun had capped the eastern hilltops. These hilltops were not much to boast of as

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 hills, although they were what was known as Saddle Mountain—a series of straggling hills several miles in extent. The southern sides of this range of hills were partially timbered and this was the best fox cover anywhere in three counties. The forest here was very open as the underbrush was kept well cleaned out, so the hunters could ride almost as well in this timberland as they could in the open.

Colonel Eaton on this occasion was all cordiality and joviality and as polite as any Southern gentleman could well be. There is no more courtly a host in the whole world than a Southern gentleman. The Colonel's sister, Miss Julia Eaton, was also a gracious hostess, so every one was sure of a good time on this gala day.

The hounds, twelve in number, were of the English breed, clean cut but with shorter ears than the American fox hound. This was a strain which was said to have come over the mountains from Virginia with the first Lord Eaton. Their cry was unusually mellow and to a fox hunter it was sweetest

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 music, but Reynard the Fox thought it quite otherwise.

As the hunting party fared forth on that crisp November morning, George Washington Jones, a utility negro at Eaton Manor, was in charge of the pack as he was the best handler of fox hounds in Kentucky. He was closely followed by the hunting party, the men coming first and the women bringing up the rear.

The master of the hounds led the way straight to Saddle Mountain and the hunters followed at a leisurely trot. There was no need of getting excited in this early stage of the hunt. There would be time enough for excitement after the fox had been started. That might take an hour or two. But the colored man had been prospecting about with a couple of trusty hounds for a week and had learned the daily habits and usual run of Red Fox, so far as any red fox can be spied upon. But Reynard is a sly fellow, rather restless and very suspicious. The things he does to-day he does not always do to-morrow, so one can not say just where he

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 will be found or what he will do when started.

Red Fox himself, the object of all this show, had spent the two hours before daylight down on the plantations. He had visited several farm yards and interviewed the poultry houses. As a result of his cunning he had come away with a tender young turkey slung over his shoulder.

He was somewhat of an epicurean, and often dined upon the very best fowl that the countryside could offer. Within the hour he had eaten his fill from the tender bird, which is so highly prized by humans.

Just at the bewitching hour of sunrise, when the old world is each day made over new, Red Fox had come forth from his lair. This was a little clump of scrub pines, in a sheltered gulch on the hillside.

Red Fox was well satisfied with himself and the world on that beautiful autumn morning, for was he not full of the best bird in the land? Had he not taken his breakfast from his enemy, man, under the very nose of one of those stupid dogs? Red

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 Fox's nose wrinkled savagely at the very thought of dogs. How he hated them. Most of them he despised for he could usually outwit them. Fox hounds however were different. He had to be on guard for fox hounds. They had such keen noses, and could ferret out one's track' even though it had been badly snarled.

Red Fox came out on a bluff from which advantage point he could see far across the flat country. He always liked to begin the day by reconnoitering from that point. He stood upon the very edge of a precipitous cliff and stretched himself. He yawned and stretched again as though the world and the life of a fox made him weary.

He was a fine specimen of the red fox family as he stood there upon the cliff looking off across the country. He was a deep walnut sable, rather unusual in a red fox. On his back was a small black blanket, or saddle mark. He had black points, a black nose, and a white tip to his tail. His coat was thick and luxuriant, and his brush was very heavy. A well groomed fox and he had a

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 right to be, for had he not dined on turkey?

Although Red Fox had a seeming air of indifference, and nonchalance, yet he was alert. Alertness was his habitual state of mind. His keen ears were cocked and ready to catch the slightest sound. His sharp nose was constantly sifting the wind as only a fox's nose can, while his yellow phosphorous eyes saw everything. This was why he was such a good hunter. The slightest rustle in the grass was always noted by him, for this often meant a field mouse. Ground-birds' nests he found where a human being would have almost stepped on them and then passed by unsuspecting. Most of his living Red Fox had to take in the open. The farm yards were not to be relied on, but hunting in the fields and forest was his main dependence. So all of Red Fox's wits had to be of the keenest, else he would have often gone hungry.

Presently there floated up to Red Fox's keen ears a faint thin sound. It was so faint and far away that a human ear could not have at first detected it. Yet Red Fox

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 heard and immediately knew what it was. It was the first desultory bay of a fox hound—the note of warning that the hound gives when he has stumbled upon a faint suggestion of a scent. This in itself was not ominous, but there was no telling what it might lead to. So Red Fox waited and listened, all the time scanning the plains with his yellow, all-seeing eyes.

Presently the first desultory bay was followed by another and another and then the old leader broke into full cry, and a few seconds later he was joined by the entire pack.

The English fox hound is celebrated for his mellow, far-carrying bay and soon the valley was resounding with the full cry of the pack, a dozen strong. It reverberated from field to field. It floated faintly up to Red Fox's shelf on the rocks and the hillside flung it back across the valley. It was sweetest music to the fox hound lover. It was also music to the Kentucky hunting horse. For it meant to him that the great race was now on, no matter how leisurely his master had jogged along behind the hounds

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 before. This melodious music meant that they would go forward at a breakneck pace. It meant that the mad race, in which the horses entered as enthusiastically as did the men, was on. It meant that they would jump ditches and fences, climb steep hillsides, go tearing through the deep woods, plunge down deep declivities, swim rivers, and overcome any obstacle which nature put in their way, just to get ahead. Just to be nearest to the leaping baying pack.

At first Red Fox could not make out the pack or the hunters, but finally he discovered them a mile away across the white turnpike. First he saw the pack coming on at full cry and then the hunters, a dozen men riding rapidly after the eager dogs. With a little shudder of apprehension Red Fox noted that they had taken up his own fresh trail which he had made upon the turnpike when he returned to his lair with the young turkey.

Yes, his theft had been discovered. Man, who thought he owned everything, had discovered the loss of his turkey and he was

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 coming, with hounds and horses to punish him. Well, they would have a long run for their money. This was not Red Fox's first fox hunt. For three years he had eluded the pack, and kept his brush. He would keep it this time if he had luck. So he turned and plunged into the deep wood which covered the hillside.

In ten minutes' time the pack had covered the distance between them and the lookout place of Red Fox and were following along the hillside to the east. The horsemen very wisely kept to the low lands, riding along parallel to the hills, depending on the pack to keep the fox going. Even so they had to occasionally jump fences and ditches, and sometimes a limestone wall. Kentucky has two styles of fences, the limestone wall and the rail fence, and most of the plantations were fenced. The horsemen were in too much of a hurry to look for gates or barways, so they rarely stopped because fences were high. If a horse could get his nose over a fence he could usually jump it. So the noisy hunting party swept like the wind

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 along the lowlands while the pack and Red Fox held their more difficult way along the hillside.

Charley Anderson, a daredevil rider upon a tall gray mare, was always in the lead. Colonel Eaton, on his bay gelding, Prince, was not far behind. For although the Colonel was past fifty yet he was still a fearless rider, and it took a good man to head him in the chase. Three times in his life he had been first in at the kill in these annual fox hunts.

Major Miller, another Kentucky planter, was also well mounted and a daring rider. The Major and his mount were the first to come to grief, although the accident was not serious.

Charley and Colonel Eaton were well in the lead of the Major and this nettled him, so he was not particular in selecting the place where he jumped the great ditch between the meadowland of two of his neighbors. He came to the ditch where the further bank was high, and he and his mount rolled back into the muddy water and the

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 horse was so badly mired that it took several negroes to get him out, and thus the Major was out of the race.

Finally when the pack had run poor Red Fox twice for the entire length of Saddle Mountain and he was getting winded by their hot pursuit, he indiscreetly took to the plains. Here he encountered a dozen mounted enemies and his difficulties doubled.

The cunning old fox ran through bramble bushes, and along the bank of the creek, seeking to throw off his pursuers, but their noses were good. He then ran half a mile on the railroad track, but even this ruse gained him no advantage. Although a passing train did scatter the pack, they soon came together again and were after him in full cry.

Twice Red Fox raced across the plain to the creek and back to the mountains again, all the time losing steadily to his pursuers. So he again skirted the mountains, coming back on the further side, and crossing the end nearest to the Eaton estate, at the point where he had first been started. Here he

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 did some fancy winding about in and out in some thick cover, before he again took to the plains. This time he was a little more successful in throwing off the pack, but they finally took up the trail and before they had crossed half-way back to the creek, the pack were following by sight, and the end of Red Fox looked certain.

The hunters were also following the pack closely, the, thundering hoofs of the galloping horses shaking the solid earth. Charley, on his tall gray mare, was in the lead, another planter was second, while Colonel Eaton was third. Poor straining Red Fox was perhaps a hundred yards ahead, with the pack fifty yards behind him. They were sweeping across the plains like a charging cavalry. The horses were now streaked with lather and reeking with sweat. Some of them were badly blown, but most held their wind well, for they were bred as running horses.

It certainly looked as though Charley would again be in at the kill and get the coveted brush, when a new factor was suddenly

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 injected into the race, one that made the riders gasp and rub their eyes to be sure that they had seen aright. For with a thunder of hoofs, the Colonel's nephew, young Halsey Eaton, himself but a lad of fourteen, tore frantically by Charley mounted upon Sultan; the unmountable, untamable prize stallion of the plantation; the horse that none of the negroes dared ride, and that was kept merely for breeding purposes.

The stallion had been a famous hunter when young yet had not had a saddle on him in five years. But all of his youth and fleetness seemed to have suddenly come back to him, for young Eaton was clinging desperately to the noble horse's mane with one hand, while he tugged frantically at the reins with the other. But the old fury was having it all his own way. He seemed unmindful of rider, and his every intent was bent on the racing pack, and his every ounce of racing strength was put forth in overtaking the hounds. Fences, stone walls, ditches were all alike to the wild stallion as he raced frantically after the pack.

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 "For God's sake," roared the Colonel, "go stop them, Charley. They will both be killed."

But they might as well have tried to stop the wind, for the stallion was rapidly opening up distance between him and the best rider in the hunting party and coming within a jump or two of the pack.

What this apparition of the boy on the wild stallion meant, no one knew. All were thunderstruck. All felt sure it would end in a bad fall for the rider and perhaps the death of the horse. What had got into the boy? Why had he taken such a risk? For an answer to that question we will have to go back to Eaton Manor and see what had transpired since the hunting party left.

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OLONEL EATON was a widower, his wife having been killed while jumping her horse in a fox hunt twenty years before our story. His family consisted of his sister, Miss Julia Eaton, who supervised Eaton Manor, his nephew Halsey Eaton, and his niece Margaret Moore. Both Halsey and Margaret were orphans, but to their adoring uncle, the Colonel, they were as his own children.

They were of the same age, fourteen years, and great chums. Margaret was called by her friends Pretty Peggy Moore, and she was very much spoiled by all. This had made her very wilful and headstrong, and the Colonel and Aunt Julia often found her a hard nut to crack.

A violent scene had taken place between Peggy and her uncle that very morning.

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 This was when she insisted that she be allowed to ride in the hunt. The Colonel had stoutly refused and had reminded her of the tragic death of her aunt in the hunt. Peggy had stormed and coaxed but all to no purpose.

Halsey had also been refused the privilege of riding, and his uncle had told him to stay at home and keep Peggy company, and for both to help Aunt Julia with the festivities, as the fox hunt always ended with a great supper at the Manor.

So the young people had seen the gay hunting party ride away but had not been of it. Halsey had at once gone about several tasks for his aunt, but Peggy had retired to her room in a great fit of temper. An hour later Halsey had been greatly astonished to see her going out of the door, dressed in her riding habit.

"Hello, Peg, where are you going?" he had asked nonchalantly.

"After the hounds," the girl had replied grimly. "I am not going to be left behind, uncle or no uncle."

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 Halsey laughed and this further nettled the spirited girl.

"What will you ride on?" he asked. "A saw horse? That is all there is left. Every hunter in the stable is gone."

"I am going on Kentucky Babe," said the girl resolutely. "She used to be a famous hunter."

"Oh, I say Sis. You wouldn't do such a thing as that. Why uncle worships that mare and she only foaled a month ago. Why she would be as soft as butter. You might kill her."

The girl laughed and hurried away to the stable, while Halsey looked after her with genuine sympathy as he had been disappointed himself. He thought she had been joking and intending to give them a scare.

His astonishment could well be imagined when a few minutes later he heard a horse's hoofs on the turnpike in front of the Manor House. He ran to the porch with misgivings. Peggy was not like other girls. No one could tell just what she would do next, yet she had a heart of gold. Halsey's aston-

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 ishment could well be imagined to see Peggy mounted on Kentucky Babe, trotting down the turnpike.

"Peggy, stop; stop, Peggy," cried the boy. "I say, you will kill the mare. Oh please don't go, Sis. Uncle will be furious."

But the wilful girl only waved him a careless farewell as she flicked the spirited mare with her quirt. Then Kentucky Babe broke into a swift gallop and they disappeared down the turnpike like the wind.

Halsey grabbed his cap and started for the stable. He must get some sort of a horse and follow her. Some one must be by her side. She would put the mare over anything that came in their way. Some one must be with her to keep her from killing both the horse and herself. As Halsey opened the stable door he remembered with chagrin that the only horse left in the stable was Sultan, the terrible. The stallion whom no negro dared bridle, much less saddle.

As the boy rushed into the stable, the spirited stallion threw up his head and whin-

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 nied, showing that they were on better terms than the people of Eaton Manor imagined. Although the grooms and trainers had frequently forbidden the boy going near the stallion, yet with the fearlessness of youth, he had often fed the great horse with carrots and apples, and even lumps of sugar. Also on several occasions he had climbed upon Sultan's back. The horse had pranced about some and acted rather nervous, but had not been vicious.

As Halsey stood by the stall hesitating, all the dreadful stories that he had heard concerning Sultan came surging through his mind. Especially vivid was the description of old Rastus of the never-to-be-forgotten time when Sultan had cornered him in the stockyard and tried to kill him.

He could see the old negro's eyes roll and the whites show as he talked.

"Yes, sah! Masser Halsey, dat wuz de time dis nigger suah done come close to smellin brimstun. Ah certin did. Ah got so scat inside, Ah wuz as white as a snowball. Ah suah was!

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 "Ah hates to tell dis here story cause it all sceers me up inside again. Ah sometimes dreams about it and then Ah hollers like Ah see a ghost.

"Ah suah did see a ghost dat time, an' it was the ghost of old Rastus suah nuff.

"You see Ah had gone out into the stockyard to drive the ole debble in. We did not know he was so ugly then. But de good Lord done put it into my woolly hade to take a pitchfork. Dat wuz what save my life. Ah wasn't thinking much about anything in particular when dat ole Satan he jes r'ar up on his him lages and come for dis here niggar.

"He make his foe lages go like he tink he was a windmill, and his teeth they snap an crack like he was a bear trap. He walk on his hin' lages jes like he allus walk dat way, an all the time he paw de air an snap his teeth fit to snap a man's arm off if he done get out his way.

"Ah jab with de pitchfork an yell, but it make no difference. He keep right on comin. So Ah back an Ah back an Ah jab

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 away wid de pitchfork and finally Ah get through a do' into de stable. Then Ah bang de do' an Ah won't go into dat yard for all de money de Colonel gut. Ever since dat day, Masser Halsey, Ah don' trus myself wid dat hoss. No sah."

With this picture vivid in his mind it took all the nerve Halsey could muster to go inside the stall to the stallion and give him a lump of sugar from his pocket. The boy then stroked the horse's neck and he pranced and squealed. He seemed full of fire, but whether his spirits were good or evil the boy could not tell.

Finally he summoned courage to slip a saddle on the stallion's back. To the boy's great astonishment, with a wild squeal the stallion reared in the stall and broke his halter chain. At the sight of the broken chain Halsey's blood went cold in his veins. He was now at the mercy of the great horse. Yet Sultan made no further demonstration, but allowed the saddle girth to be drawn tight. Halsey had often seen him bite great pieces of wood from the edge of his manger,

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 or shake the chain viciously with his teeth and he hesitated before approaching him with a bridle. But valuable time was being consumed. There was no knowing what trouble Peggy might be in with Kentucky Babe. So the boy put his arm over the stallion's neck and bent his head down for the bridle. To his astonishment the stallion submitted meekly to being bridled and led out into the yard.

But when the boy mounted as he did with a quick spring, the stallion went into the air and for a few minutes the boy had to cling to his mane and grip his sides with his knees. Finally to Halsey's great relief he ceased his antics and in answer to the bit and a pull on the rein, he galloped swiftly down the turnpike.

In ten minutes they overtook Peggy and the Babe. They were loping along the turnpike at a good trot, Peggy having tired of the gallop.

"What are you doing on Sultan?" cried Peggy as soon as the boy came in hailing distance.

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 "I have come to look after you. You must go careful with the mare."

"I shall go as I please," retorted the girl.

"Uncle will be furious at you for taking out the mare."

"I guess he will be equally furious at you for taking out the stallion."

"I had to look after you."

"I can look out for myself and I won't take any orders from you. I hear the hounds. They are crossing to the creek. I am going to head them off," and she struck Kentucky Babe with her quirt and was off at a canter.

Halsey followed on the stallion. "Don't run her so fast and don't try to take any fences. She isn't in condition," he warned.

He had espied the fence between Eaton Manor and a neighboring plantation in the distance and sensed coming trouble.

"You tend to your horse and I will tend to mine," snapped Peggy.

As they neared the high five-railed fence, Halsey's apprehension grew. He headed the stallion in close to Peggy's mount in

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214 instructions beyond the children of four or three families, and often limiting them to two and even one. The effects are waste of power and degradation of character to teachers and taught.

Sixth.—An attempt was made to ascertain the age of each scholar at three separate periods, viz., the age of his entering school or commencing the particular study referred to; his age at the time the school was visited; and the probable age of his leaving school or concluding the particular study in which he was then engaged. The average results are exhibited in the following table, and from the results is shown the average duration of study. At the time the Beerbhoom district was visited, the then actual age only of each scholar was noted without the two other items which are consequently wanting in the table:—

Thus the average duration both of Persian and Arabic study is about eleven or twelve years, the former generally extending to the twentieth! or twenty-first and the latter to the twenty-fourth or twenty-fifth year of age, affording ample time for the introduction of new or the improvement and extension of old courses of study.

Seventh.—The nature of the instruction given in these institutions may be in some measure estimated by the subjects of the works used as school or text books. In Persian schools elementary and grammatical works, forms of correspondence, and popular poems and tales are chiefly read: occasionally a work on rhetoric or a treatise on theology or medicine is also met with. In the Arabic schools the course of study takes a much wider range. The grammatical works are numerous, systematized, and profound; complete courses of reading on rhetoric, logic, and law are embraced; the external observances and fundamental doctrines of Islam are minutely studied; the works of Euclid on geometry and Ptolemy on astronomy in translation are not unknown; other


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 hopes of persuading her to go to the north. There was a large gateway in the fence in that direction and he wanted to persuade her to wait for him to open the gate. In the meantime however the hounds came nearer and nearer and the girl's excitement grew.

"Margaret," cried the boy excitedly. "Let's go through the gate. It is the only safe way. The mare is in no condition to take that fence. It is a good jump for any horse in good condition."

"But we will lose a lot of time. I must be in at the finish."

"It will only take a few extra seconds. Let's play it safe, Sis. I will go ahead and have it all open for you."

"No," cried the girl. "The hounds are coming. Uncle said I couldn't ride fast enough for a funeral procession. I want to show him. I am going to take the fence." The boy tried to get in her way, but she waved him away with her quirt. He entreated and implored, but to no avail. So the headstrong girl rode fine mare

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 straight for the high fence. Halsey kept the stallion close by her side in hopes of catching her bridle rein at the last moment. But even this ruse was frustrated. For with a sudden movement she reined the mare away from him and went at the fence a little upon a slant, which in itself was almost fatal.

Kentucky Babe had been a famous hunter in her prime, but recently had been kept entirely for breeding. In addition to that she was soft, and had also partly lost the jumping art. Besides, her rider did not steady her as she should have done. So, although she made a mighty effort, she landed upon the top rail and horse, rail and rider landing in a sorry heap upon the ground. Halsey tried vainly to rein in his own mount, but at this point in the exciting game, Sultan took matters into his own hands, or rather, his teeth.

Halsey had thought him quite soft-bitted, but now when he pulled with all his might upon the curb as they came within a rod or

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 two of the fence, it was like pulling against a steel post. The stallion had taken the bit between his teeth and no rider, be he ever so good, could have stopped him. Vainly the young boy sawed and jerked upon the bit. The old horse would have his own way.

Halsey gripped the horse's side with his knees and clung to his mane as he felt him gathering for the spring. But the old warhorse made the fence with ease, and before the astonished boy could realize what had happened they were galloping wildly across the fields in pursuit of the hounds.

He looked back over his shoulder and to his great relief saw Peggy get to her feet. She was evidently unhurt, but the splendid mare lay where she had fallen and the boy feared the worst. After that he had all he could do to keep his seat in the saddle and guide the stallion as well as he could in the mad flight after the hounds.

In five minutes' time they overtook the stragglers and thundered on by them after the leaders. Again and again Halsey

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 sought to pull the stallion down, but he might as well have pulled on a church steeple. Finally they thundered up to the leaders. Halsey had a fleeting glimpse of his uncle's scared face and heard his cry of warning and his counsel to stop him, but he might as well have tried to stop a whirlwind.

The creek was now only fifty yards away. The fox was swimming for his life and was nearly across. The hounds were in midstream. Halsey had no sort of notion as to what the stallion would do when he reached the water, but he thought the horse would stop. There was a bridge a hundred yards further up stream and the other riders now headed for that crossing place. But not so the stallion.

He had become crazed with the excitement of the hunt and earth and water were alike to him. So when he reached the bank, with a mighty leap that carried them twenty feet into the creek, he cleared the bank. Halsey thought his last hour had come. The mighty jump carried both horse and rider nearly under. Just the top of the

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 boy's head and the tip of the horse's nose showed. Yet the stallion was equal to this emergency, for he struck out bravely for the farther shore. He gained rapidly upon the swimming dogs, so that he scrambled upon the sloping bank only a few rods behind them.

But this last short swim had taken the last ounce of fight and life out of poor Red Fox. He had made a wonderful run, but this was his finish. A hundred yards from the creek the pack overtook him and bore him to earth fighting feebly.

Halsey and the stallion came thundering up just in time to keep him from being torn to bits. The boy sprang from the horse and began kicking right and left to scatter the pack. Finally he beat them all off and with his pocket knife secured the coveted brush.

In the meantime old Sultan stood perfectly docile. One would have thought by his manner that he had never done such a thing as bolt with his rider in his whole life. Halsey patted him on the neck and

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130 Thus the noble knight rode hence in hunter’s garb. Gunther’s men espied him coming and ran out to meet him and took his horse in charge. On his saddle he carried a large bear and a strong. When he had dismounted, he loosed the bonds from feet and snout. Those of the pack bayed loudly, that spied the bear. The beast would to the woods; the serving folk had fear. Dazed by the din, the bear made for the kitchen. Ho, how he drove the scullions from the fire! Many a kettle was upset and many a firebrand scattered. Ho, what good victual men found lying in the ashes! Then the lordings and their liegemen sprang from their seats. The bear grew furious and the king bade loose the pack that lay enleashed. Had all sped well, they would have had a merry day. No longer the doughty men delayed, but ran for the bear with bows and pikes. There was such press of dogs that none might shoot, but from the people’s shouts the whole hill rang. The bear began to flee before the dogs; none could follow him but Kriemhild’s husband, who caught and slew him with his sword. Then they bore the bear again to the fire. Those that saw it, averred he was a mighty man.

Men bade now the proud hunting fellowship seat them at the tables. Upon a fair mead there sate a goodly company. Ho, what rich viands they bare there to the noble huntsmen! The butlers who should bring the wine delayed; else might never heroes have been better served. Had they not been so falsely minded, then had the knights been free of every blame.

Now the Lord Siegfried spake: “Me-wondereth, since men do give us such great store from the kitchen,


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 then climbed back into the saddle with the red fox's brush, just as his uncle and Charley came cantering up.

"You young scrapegrace, what do you mean cutting in on the hunt in this way? Didn't you know that stallion might have killed you?

"He came mighty near it if I am any judge. What do you mean taking a horse and following the hunt without my leave?"

"I didn't mean to, Uncle," stammered the boy.

"You didn't mean to. I don't see how you could do it and not mean to. Don't you know there isn't a nigger on the plantation who would dare saddle Sultan? He might have killed you."

"Yes, I know they are all afraid of him. I didn't want to saddle him myself, but I—I had to, Uncle."

"You had to. What foolishness is this?"

"You see Uncle, Margaret she—the Kentucky Babe, she"

"Margaret, Kentucky Babe, what has that got to do with you and the stallion?"

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 "Why I hate to tell you but you will know soon enough. Peggy got one of her headstrong streaks and soon after the hunt left the Manor she came down in her riding habit. She said she was going after the hounds.

"I just laughed and told her there was no hunter left in the stable and she said she would take Kentucky Babe."

"What, take my brood mare, Kentucky Babe? Why she foaled within the month. It would kill her to run."

"I told Peggy so. I did everything that I could to stop her, Uncle, but I didn't really think she would do it. So when she cantered down the turnpike, some one had to go after her and see that she didn't get into trouble with the mare. You know the Babe is very high like. There was no mount left but the stallion, so I took him."

"I see," said the Colonel, grinning broadly. Then the serious look came back to his face.

"But where is Margaret? Did you leave her behind?"

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 "You know the high five rail fence between Eaton Manor and the Mallery plantation?"

"What," roared the Colonel, a great light breaking through his consciousness. "You don't mean to tell me that Margaret tried to jump that fence?"

"I tried to stop her, Uncle. I really did with all my might."

"Well, young man, you might as well tell me. Are they both dead?"

"No," replied Halsey. "Margaret is all right, but I guess the mare is done for."

"Well, by the great jumping horned spoon! What will you young folks do next? Lead the way, boy. We must hurry."

It was a rather sorrowful and disturbed hunting party that cantered back across the fields to the scene of the disaster. Halsey led the way on the stallion who now behaved like a steady-going old hunter.

They found Peggy and the mare lying on the ground just where they had fallen in a sorry heap. The girl had her arms about the neck of the beautiful horse, and

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 she was sobbing as though her heart would break.

Her uncle was all sympathy and sprang from his saddle like a boy.

"Margaret, my dear child, are you hurt?"

The girl lifted her tear stained face and looked at him tragically.

"No Uncle," she sobbed, "I am not hurt very badly. Just a sprained ankle and a few scratches on the hands and face. But I have killed Kentucky Babe. She is dead. I know she is and you thought so much of her."

"Well," said the Colonel with much relief in his voice, "I did worship that mare. She was the best brood mare in Kentucky, but I think more of my niece than any horse. If you have escaped with your life we will not say too much about the mare. But let it be a lesson to you, Peggy. We must all be amenable to discipline in this world. We all have to restrain ourselves. I know you are sorry." And he kissed her affectionately on the cheek and straightened her disheveled hair.

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 "I never can forget this day," sobbed the girl. "I never will disobey you again, Uncle."

In the meantime Charley had been examining the mare.

"Yes, she is dead, Colonel," he reported. "She isn't staked and she hasn't broken any bones. It was just a blood vessel that she has ruptured, but it finished her all right."

"Come, Margaret, you get up behind me," said the Colonel, "and we will go home."

So they helped the girl up behind her uncle and all made their way back to Eaton Manor, the hounds following in the rear.

When they dismounted at Eaton Manor, Colonel Eaton invited his friends to come into the stable. This was after they had helped Peggy into the house.

"I have a little ceremony to perform," he explained, "and I want you all to witness it. It is rather important, sah."

When Sultan and the rest of the hunters had been stabled, the Colonel summoned all to meet in the long barn floor.

"Rastus," called the Colonel, "I want you

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 to bring out Kentucky Babe's colt. Halsey, you must stay too," he said to his nephew who had started for the house. "I want you especially."

"Yes, Cunnel, ah will try an bring out dat colt, but he suah hain't halter broke much yet. He is full of de debble. He is suah a chip ob de ole block. He has got as much debble in him as ole Sultan hisself. But ah will fetch him out."

Presently lively sounds came from the adjoining stable.

"Heah, you. Hain't you done learned whoa. Look out da, you step on your uncle Rastus."

Soon the old negro reappeared with a prancing, bucking, four-weeks old colt on a halter. As they came into the presence of the Colonel the colt capered about the negro in great spirits.

"He hain't done halter broke very good, Cunnel," explained the old negro. "He's got too much spirits. Ah hain't tame him down yet. Whoa, you."

It was certainly a very ridiculous little

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 horse to make so much disturbance. His appearance was almost grotesque, although he was so fiery. Like all small colts his head was about twice too large for his body and his legs seemingly twice too long as well. His joints were so large that they looked deformed, while his ridiculous little brush of a tail gave an additional ludicrous touch. But to one who knew horses, he was a wonderful colt.

Finally he was brought to a stand by the side of the old negro and the Colonel stepped forward and in his low pleasant voice said:

"My friends, I want to take you all into my confidence to-day. We have seen strange sights to-day. Things never seen on Eaton Manor before, sah, and I never expect to see them again. There is one among us, sah, who has acquitted himself like a true Kentuckian, and I am proud of him, sah." He was looking full at his nephew as he delivered this utterance and the blushing boy retired behind one of the planters.

"Push the young scapegrace out where I

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 can see him," cried the Colonel in his most jovial voice. "I repeat I am proud of him, sah. He has acquitted himself like a Southern gentleman. A true Kentuckian has three virtues, sah. He has more than three, but these are paramount, sah. He isn't afraid of the devil, sah; he can ride a good horse into purgatory, if it is necessary; and he always protects women. This young man has fulfilled all of these three conditions to-day, sah, and I am proud of him. Now as a little expression of my pride I am going to present him with the best little colt in Kentucky, sprung out of the best brood mare in the Blue Grass country and by old Sultan himself. Here, Rastus, give me that halter," and he placed the end of the rope in his nephew's hand.

"Oh, Uncle, Uncle," was all the happy boy could say. A great lump filled his throat, but his face beamed with joy that all could see.

He had always loved horses, and at this moment all the warmth of his boyish impul-

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 sive heart went out to the homely little horse. He knelt down beside him and put his arm over his neck and brought the homely head close to his face. He kissed the now docile colt on his cheek and fondled his scraggly mane, and hugged him again and again.

"Oh you dear little horse. You are all mine. You are to be my pal. O what a pal of mine you will be. Why Uncle," the boy cried looking up at the Colonel with a radiant smile, "that is his name. Palo'mine."

The name was an accident, but it stuck. Not only that but this name in time became the brightest star in the constellation of Kentucky running horses.

But that was not all. Palo'mine was for four years the trusted mount of a famous trooper who never spared either himself or his beloved horse in his country's service. But his glory did not end even there. For when the flag was in great danger, and a brave army was threatened with annihila-

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 tion, Palo'mine carried the general to the rescue, as only a Kentucky thoroughbred could. So you see there are strange adventures and bright laurels ahead of the homely little colt.

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FTER the tragic death of Kentucky Babe, Palo'mine or little Pal as his young master sometimes called him, was denied his natural sustenance. So he was finally put upon another brood mare who had a small colt of her own and this gave him part of his rations. For the rest Halsey fed him cows' milk out of a bottle. This milk was sweetened so as to get him to take it. At first he was very scornful of the bottle and would shake his head whenever it was proffered him. But hunger finally brought him to terms and he was very glad of the bottle when his young master offered it to him. For the first two months Palo'mine was kept in a box stall, but he was finally moved into a paddock near the house. His young master was all eagerness to begin training him, but old Rastus and the

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 Colonel laughed and told him he must let the colt alone for the present and allow him to grow. But Halsey was permitted under the supervision of old Rastus to halter-break him, or rather to finish that lesson which Rastus had begun.

The very first thing that a colt is taught and this lesson is often taught him when he is only two or three weeks old, is not to pull upon a halter. He has to learn that certain things are fixed; that they are immovable and when he is hitched to them, it is useless and foolish to pull.

So Halsey under old Rastus' direction would slyly slip a rope over Palo'mine's head when he was not watching. Then when he found he was caught, the little colt would jump about and pull first this way and then that, and finally he would settle down and set his four feet and pull like a mule. Halsey was at first afraid that he would hurt himself, for he would pull until he threw himself, then he would lie quiet on the ground. But old Rastus only laughed at the boy's fears.

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 "Land sakes, boy, why dat colt wouldn't hurt hisself if he wuz hitched to a church steeple." "Whah it is good for him to pull." "You see he is nacherally jes full of tantrums and debbiltry, de sooner he pulls some ob dem out of hisself de better." "So you jes let him pull." "He won't break nuffin." "Don't you worry, chile."

After three or four lessons Palo'mine ceased pulling when the rope was thrown over his head. At which old Rastus laughed gleefully.

"What ah tell you, boy?" "Don' you see dat colt he done learned his lesson." "He done found out that he is not strong enough to pull down de universe." "Why dat colt he done learn quick." "He got horse sense." "He sure has."

Halsey also taught Palo'mine to come when he whistled for him. He did this by feeding him pieces of apple and carrot and also lumps of sugar when he was old enough for such horse delicacies. Sometimes when Halsey was working about the place, Palo'-

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 mine was allowed to nibble the sweet grass on the lawn and trot about with his young master. He would follow Halsey like "Mary's little Lamb." When he was nearly a year old Halsey was allowed to exercise him on a halter. He would put his arm over the colt's neck and with a little switch in his hand, teach the colt to trot by his side. In this way he taught him the walking, trotting and cantering gaits before he was a year old. These are the three natural gaits of a horse. When horse men speak of a five-gaited horse, they add to these three natural gaits, the single step, which is a modified racking gait, where the horse uses both his hocks and his stifles, instead of travelling stiff-legged as in the simple pace. Also a fancy gait called the "Spanish walk." In this gait the horse throws up his forefeet with each step and this gives him a sort of dandified appearance. This gait is only for show purposes.

When Palo'mine was a year old Halsey entered him at the state fair at Lexington, and to his great delight the colt took first

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 prize in the yearling class. This was one of many blue ribbons that Palo'mine was destined to receive.

When the colt was two years old Halsey was allowed, under the supervision of old Rastus, who was a very clever trainer, to begin training him. He first had to submit to bit and bridle. Halsey talked to him all the time while he was putting on the bridle and explained as well as he could that it would not hurt him. He also reinforced his arguments with several lumps of sugar, so that the bridle was mastered during the first morning.

Palo'mine was then taught to mind the rein. This took time and patience. Patience, a trainer must always have in handling dumb animals. He never can afford to get angry, or lose his temper. So training animals is a very good discipline for humans.

After Palo'mine had mastered the bridle and Rastus had talked long and persistently about making him soft-bitted, by not jerking on the rein, the saddle was taken up,

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 first when it was put upon Palo'mine's back he thrashed about and reared, for he was very high-lifed and had never felt any such thing upon his back before. So he reared and plunged about trying to shake the saddle off. But here as in the case of the halter and the bridle, he had to learn submission. He had to know that this thing could not be shaken off and that it was put there for a purpose.

Then Halsey added a twenty-five pound burden to the saddle, then fifty and finally a hundred pounds. After that he got upon Palo'mine's back himself. This quite astonished the colt and he reared and bucked, but he soon found that his master could stick as well as the saddle could, and he ceased trying to dislodge him. Thus with patience, and perseverance, and by not trying to push his education too fast, Palo'mine was taught the elements of a saddle horse by the time he was two years old. Of course he was not perfected. He was just broken in, but this was a start and Halsey was very proud of his showing.

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 It must not be imagined that the friendship between the boy and the colt suffered any because of this training. If a trainer is kind and patient, the animal will love the master even more because he is subservient to his will. But in Halsey's case he not only gave the horse patient treatment, but the full and overflowing love of his boyish heart. He was naturally a great horse lover and since this little horse had been his own from the very first, his love for him grew with each passing week. And because he loved the colt and was so gentle and considerate he could do almost anything with him. So he began teaching him tricks, which also featured at the state fair later. And Halsey and Palo'mine became great pals.

In addition to the usual accomplishments of the saddle horse, Halsey taught Palo'mine many things which are not usually known to the saddle horse. He did not know why he was doing it at the time. He did it because he liked to work with his pal. But in after years when his need was very

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 great all these little accomplishments were to stand him in good stead. First he taught Palo'mine to stand. He could spring from his back and throw the rein over his head, and know he would stand, for five minutes or for an hour if his master did not return. Then he practiced mounting and dismounting while the horse was in motion. First he tried this at a walk, then at a trot and finally at a slow canter.

He not only taught the horse to drive perfectly on the rein, but he could also guide him by the pressure of his knees on the steed's side.

Of course school took much of the boy's time. But it was a pretty sure guess that if he was not in school he was either riding or teaching Palo'mine.

When the horse was three years old, Halsey began breaking him to the harness. Hitherto he had been only the boy's saddle horse and very much of a pet. Now he was to know what real work was. As a general thing it is not wise to use a saddle horse for the phaeton, but in this case it

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 seemed to do no harm, for Palo'mine was as different in the harness as he was in the saddle, as black is from white. It was not the intention to use him much in the harness, but Halsey's aunt, Miss Bliss, wanted to be driven to town occasionally and the Colonel said it would do no harm to teach Palo'mine the harness.

He discovered that the harness was quite different from the saddle. The breeching made him want to kick. It tickled and chafed his flanks in a very unpleasant manner. But Halsey talked to him when he first put on the harness and patted and smoothed the horse's flanks with his hands, and told him in horse language that it was all right. For by this time the boy had partly mastered horse language. In time he was to be an adept, but now he merely understood the rudiments of the horse vocabulary. For instance when Palo'mine whinnied joyously as Halsey came into the stable in the morning, he knew that meant "Good Morning." When he nickered coaxingly at feed time Halsey knew it

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 meant, "I am hungry, master." "Isn't it almost time for my oats?" When he rubbed his nose against the boy's face, that meant, "I love you, master," and when he went feeling in the boy's pocket, he was asking for a lump of sugar. When he lay back his ears, which he rarely did, that meant, "I don't like it." "I would bite, only that is what bad horses do, and I am never bad." When he shook his halter chain in his teeth and trotted up and down in his stall, as well as he could in that limited space that meant, "Come master, let's go for a canter."

So it will be seen that a horse has quite a vocabulary. There are many other words and signs and these are only the "A. B. C. of horse language."

When Palo'mine had mastered the harness he was hitched into a light two-wheeled gig and driven slowly about the place. He found it very hard to go slow enough. From the gig he went by slow degrees to the phaeton and at last to the family carriage which was an old fashioned carryall. But he was not driven much in this vehicle

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 as the Colonel said it would spoil him for a saddle horse and he wanted Halsey to have the best saddle horse in Kentucky. But it did Palo'mine no harm to learn all of these things.

In the autumn when Palo'mine was three and a half years old, Halsey and the Colonel put in a good deal of time hunting quail. They hunted with dogs, either setters or pointers. But the men themselves went on horseback and shot from the saddle.

There are not very many quail in Kentucky, but there were a few on Eaton Manor and other plantations near by, so the sport was quite good.

Halsey first accustomed Palo'mine to the noise of firearms by firing a five-shot Colt revolver from the saddle. At first the spirited horse jumped about and snorted, but when he saw it did him no harm, he stood quite still while his young master blazed away. But the Colt revolver was one thing and the shot gun was quite another. The first time Halsey fired from his back he bolted and nearly spilled his rider on the

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 ground. But the boy kept steadily at it and finally he could fire almost between the horse's ears and he did not mind. This also was a part of the training that was to stand both in good stead later on. But neither master nor horse were conscious of the events which were slowly shaping to take both where the smell of powder and the sound of firearms were a part of the day's work.

For tricks Palo'mine was taught the usual horse accomplishments. He could give his fore leg to shake hands when asked to do so, and he could bow quite gracefully when commanded. He could waltz either in the harness or under the saddle if Halsey was driving and gave him just the proper signs with the reins and the proper flick with the whip. But as a general thing Palo'mine needed no whip. At a word from the boy he would start from a slow walk to a quiet trot. At another sign he would break into the slow swinging canter, which jars the rider very little. There was nothing in his life that so rested the boy after

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 a hard day at school as a mad gallop with Palo'mine. To feel the sensitive quivering horse under him set his own blood to racing; while to feel the air rush through his hair which streamed about his forehead, and to see the trees, fences, and gateways rush by was like a mad moving picture—only they had no moving pictures in those days. Just these mad rushing horseback movies.

So boy and horse grew up and developed together. When Halsey needed recreation or play Palo'mine was always the one who furnished it. The first thing after returning from school Halsey went to the stable and he always carried an apple, a carrot, or a lump of sugar. The horse had a time piece of his own, or at least he was always watching for his young master at four thirty in the afternoon. Saturdays were wonderful holidays for them both. On that day they usually went for a long ride, often twenty or thirty miles. Sometimes on these occasions Halsey stopped at a likely looking

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 creek to fish, while Palo'mine was left to nibble grass nearby.

What life would have been without Palo'mine during his boyhood and his early young manhood, Halsey did not dare dream, and as for the horse he worshipped his master as only a good dog or a faithful horse can worship a man creature.

Halsey never allowed a groom to put a brush or currycomb on his chum. "If I can't groom him he can go without," he said. "I don't want any hand but mine to touch him." So Palo'mine came to look to his young master for everything that went into the making of his horse-life. Food, care, petting, and exercise, all these things came from the one he loved best of all. And this was well, for they were destined to see hard times together. So this friendship between them could not be formed too early and it could not be too strongly cemented together with the strong cement of a mutual love and respect.

If Halsey thought Palo'mine was the

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 finest saddle horse in Kentucky the horse was equally sure that his young master was the best rider in the state. No hand on the rein was like his. No one else sprang quite so lightly into the saddle. No one was so careful to see that the saddle was rightly adjusted. No one else watched for saddle galls as did Halsey. He never sawed upon the reins. He never spoke sharply, he rarely struck Palo'mine with the riding quirt, although he always carried one.

"Never ride without a whip," the Colonel had said one day. "It may save your life some time. You never can tell when you will need it to help you in a tight place." And since the Colonel was an authority on horses Halsey always took the quirt but rarely used it. He could get the same results with a slap of the reins on the neck, or a spoken word. But he wanted to obey Uncle in all things and besides perhaps the older man was right. He might need the quirt some day. So boy and horse grew to be one, in spirit and motion, and that is a perfect saddle horse and perfect rider. As

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 the horse moves the man moves. He is like an equestrian statue, a part of the horse. But the thing that made them one was not so much good horsemanship and a good horse, as it was mutual love.

As love me, love my dog, is a saying, with some boys, so love me, love my horse was a maxim with Halsey. If this had not been so they never could have met the great crises in their lives as they did, and come off more than conquerors.

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HEN Halsey Eaton was eighteen years and Palo'mine was four they were as fine a specimen of a young man and mount as could have been found anywhere in Kentucky. From the slip of a boy who had ridden Sultan so successfully in the great fox hunt, Halsey had developed into a stalwart young man, large and well formed for his age. He was five feet ten inches in his stocking feet and weighed one hundred and sixty pounds. He had made good at the Blue Grass Academy in baseball and other athletics. He had camped and tramped and rode horseback in the Cumberland mountains. During his vacations he had lived out of doors for weeks at a time. The sun and the wind had tanned his face until he was as brown as a berry, while every

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Rh why the butlers bring us not the wine. Unless men purvey the hunters better, I’ll be no more your hunting-fellow. I have well deserved that they regard me, too.”

The king addressed him from his seat with guile: “We fain would do you remedy of what we lack. It is Hagen’s fault, who is willed to let us die of thirst.”

Then spake Hagen: “Dear my lord, I weened that the hunt should be in the Spessart wood, therefore sent I thither the wine. Though we may not drink today, how well will I avoid this in the future!”

At this Lord Siegfried spake: “Small thanks ye ’ll get for that. One should have brought me hither seven sumpter loads of mead and mulled wine. If that might not be, then men should have placed our benches nearer to the Rhine.”

Then spake Hagen of Troneg: “Ye noble knights and bold, I wot near by a good cold spring. Let us go thither, that ye wax not wroth.”

To the danger of many a knight was this counsel given. The pangs of thirst now plagued the warrior Siegfried. He bade the tables be borne away the sooner, for he would go to the spring in the mountains. With false intent the counsel was then given by the knights. They bade the game which Siegfried’s hand had slain, be carried home on wains. Whoever saw it gave him great laud. Hagen of Troneg now foully broke his troth to Siegfried. When they would hence to the broad linden, he spake: “It hath oft been told me, that none can keep pace with Kriemhild’s husband when he be minded for to race. Ho, if he would only let us see it here!”


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 muscle in his wiry body was like whipcord. He was also a popular boy with his mates. This was because he was always good-natured and generous, and a good sport, no matter what the game.

Palo'mine as a companion and a splendid specimen of a Kentucky thoroughbred was not much behind his young master. He was a dark rich chestnut with a white crescent in his forehead and when his coat was at its best it shone like satin.

He stood sixteen hands at the withers, and weighed ten hundred and fifty. He was built as a Kentucky thoroughbred should be. He was lean, muscular, and with little superfluous fat.

His shoulders and his hind quarters were powerful and ttie muscles played under his shining coat when he ran, as though his mechanism was oiled. His mane and tail were heavy and darker than his coat.

His crest was beautifully arched and he held his head as though he fully appreciated his breeding.

His ears were small and expressive. He

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 was wide between his great liquid eyes, which always looked at the world in a wondering way, except when he ran and then they blazed with the fire of ambition.

His limbs were clean cut and his hoofs were small for his size. He took his fences with an ease that made you think he was full of steel springs, as he really was.

Halsey had taught him the hunter's art and was very proud of Palo'mine. He had finished second during the past two years in the great hunt and that was a wonderful achievement for a boy still in his teens. This annual fox hunt brought together some of the best hunters and riders in the Blue Grass country.

Halsey's first experience in open field riding had been gained on moonlight nights when he and a half dozen other men and boys rode after the coon dogs in that exciting autumn sport of raccoon hunting.

In the early autumn the corn fields were the favorite feeding ground of the raccoons and the hunting party would start them with the pack of specially trained coon dogs

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 and then ride after the pack until the raccoon treed or holed, and he usually treed.

This riding was of the roughest sort, through cornfields, over fences, and it usually ended in one of the woodland pastures where the coon was quite apt to take refuge. If treed in the forest Mr. Coon could run from tree to tree and so make his capture doubly difficult.

In the woodland it was often rather dark and this gave an added thrill to the hazard of riding after the pack.

Halsey had begun training Palo'mine for fence jumping when he was only two years old. He had begun by jumping him over low hurdles and had increased the height by degrees, until he could now take a six foot fence with ease.

He was also a famous ditch jumper and could take a flying leap that made his rider's hair fairly stand up.

But it was on their long rides through the mountains that the boy and horse had become the best companions. In this companionship they were alone together, with

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 the blue sky above them and the great dreamy mountains all about them. Many a night Halsey had slept with his head pillowed upon the saddle and with Palo'mine only a few feet away munching oats. This was his best night lullaby: the sound of the fine horse munching his supper, while the whippoorwill called in the thicket, the great owl hooted in the distant woods, or perhaps a little stream sang its drowsy song that is so soothing to tired nerves and aching muscles.

Halsey little dreamed as he took these pleasant horseback trips alone through the mountains, what they were training him for.

He little imagined the stern drama in which he and Palo'mine should play an important part in the years to come.

Summer had come and gone in the Blue Grass country, and September skies brooded over the land. The corn was in the shock, the tobacco hung in the long low sheds, curing. The persimmons were ripe and the opossum fat. This meant that the

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 young men had enjoyed many a possum hunt, on the moonlight nights, and that many a fat possum had weltered in the brown gravy upon the platter for dinner.

Halsey Eaton had made his plans to go away to the great college at Lexington and he was to take Palo'mine with him. There was a fine race track on the fair ground in Lexington. It was one of the fastest tracks in the country and he wished to work out Palo'mine as a racer.

Hitherto he had merely used the fine horse as a hunter and a pleasure steed, but now he wished to see what racing stuff he had in him. Colonel Eaton had himself made arrangements with a Lexington jockey to help in the training. So there was the promise of a wonderful year ahead. Halsey could not have told whether he was most excited about his studies, or the thoughts of training his beloved steed.

It was as a thunderbolt out of a clear sky in midsummer when old Rastus came running into the house one morning crying: "Ah say, Palo'mine is done gone. His stall

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 is as empty as an empty 'tater skin. He is gone. I done look at heem late las night. He is stole." Halsey raced to the stock barn, to find the old Negro's report was only too true. They searched the other stables and the outbuildings, but there was no trace of Palo'mine. Then the plantation was scoured from end to end, but Palo'mine had disappeared. Every negro on the plantation joined in the search, for Halsey was a prime favorite with them, but by nightfall nothing had been seen or heard of the horse. The Colonel was furious and Halsey was heartbroken. Finally the Colonel gave it as his opinion that the valuable horse had been stolen.

"I am mighty sorry, Halsey my boy. I would have given five hundred dollars rather than see it happen. But I am afraid the horse thieves have got him. I doubt if we ever see him again, but I will do everything that I can."

At the thought of losing his pal forever a great lump filled the boy's throat. He and

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 Palo'mine were such chums. He had made such wonderful plans for the years ahead. He could not stand it. He would give up going to college if Palo'mine could not go with him. Why, he had depended upon Palo'mine to keep him from being lonesome. "Uncle," he cried. "I will find him. I won't go a step to college without him. I am going to find him." "All right boy, I am with you. We will see what can be done in the morning."

This was before the days of telephones but in the morning telegraph wires were set to clicking. A description of the horse was wired to every city in the state. Newspapers printed long ads for his discovery and recovery and a reward of five hundred dollars was offered for his safe return and no questions asked.

Halsey ate a hasty breakfast, as much of a meal as he could swallow with the great lump in his throat, and set off on another Kentucky thoroughbred to scour the country. He returned home in the late evening

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 having covered forty miles. He had made a great half circle to the south, but had not seen or heard the slightest sign of the missing horse. The following morning he again set out and they did not see him again at the plantation for a week. While the young man was gone, sheriffs and constables from the surrounding cities were hunting. Several clues were run down, but all proved futile.

In the meantime Halsey was not idle. He rode from town to town. He interviewed all the police heads and sheriffs in the different towns. He consulted all the toll keepers on the turnpikes. He interviewed all the tavern keepers, and saw the hostlers in all the stables, but no one had seen Palo'mine.

At last the week for entering college came round, but Halsey kept right on in his search. He had said he would not go to college without Palo'mine and he meant to keep his word. Finally on the eighth day of his search he heard of a band of gypsies who were camping in a town ten miles away.

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 This might be a possible chance. Gypsies were habitual horse thieves. Perhaps this band had his chum.

So on the following morning, at just sunrise, the young man in company with two constables descended upon the camp. They found the head of the band, a dark, sinister hairy faced man, just crawling out of his covered wagon. He was very surly and very indignant that they had come to his camp on such an errand. He had no such horse and had not seen such a steed. He would knife them if they didn't get out. But the constables showed him their badges and he subsided from his blustering attitude. They searched the camp from end to end, and looked over the horses, but Palo'mine was not there. They were about to give up in despair when a bright thought came to Halsey. Somehow he had a feeling that Palo'mine was there. He thought the dark sinister man looked guilty. The boy had noted a startled look in his eyes when he saw the constables' badges. He would leave no stone unturned. So he went from

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 end to end of the camp whistling in a shrill high keyed whistle. This was the signal with which he had called Palo'mine when he was a small colt in the paddock. He had used it often since. If the horse was anywhere in hearing he would answer. But the whistling seemed to give no better results than the search had done. Thev were at the farther end of the camp away from the road and near to a thick woods, when Halsey gave one last despairing whistle. He thought it was answered by a very faint whinnying away in the deep woods but he was not certain. So he repeated the call. This time there was no mistaking the answer, it was a glad and almost continuous nickering. It seemed to say, "Here, here, here, don't go away, master." "I am here." "I cannot come to you." "Come to me."

Halsey and the two constables made all haste into the woods, the dark man following them. "I have a sick horse here in the woods," he explained, when he saw that it was useless to conceal the fact further, "but he is not at all the horse you describe. We

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 found him in the road yesterday, and as he seemed to be lost we brought him along."

In answer to Halsey's repeated whistles the glad whinnyings soon brought them to the place where a tall proud chestnut was hitched with a strong halter to a small tree.

"That's Palo'mine," cried Halsey rushing forward.

"It's not the horse you describe," said the man. "You say your horse has a white crescent on his forehead. This horse is all chestnut."

"That's what I said," replied the young man. "You come around and look on this horse's forehead."

Halsey could hardly believe his eyes when he looked for the white crescent. It was gone.

The Gypsy laughed at his evident discomfort. "I told you this is not your horse," he said. "This horse is a chestnut." The chestnut gelding's delight with the coming of the young man was only too apparent. It was like the reunion of two long parted friends. The horse rubbed his nose against

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 the boy's cheek again and again. He nickered each time Halsey whistled and in other horse ways displayed his great joy. But Halsey was confounded as to the crescent.

Finally one of the constables who was an old horse man began examining the horse's forehead critically. He parted the hair and examined it close to the skin. At last he grinned broadly at the discomfited Gypsy.

"Dye," he finally said laconically. "You did not do a very good job. It is an old trick, but you didn't get away with it this time. Then he parted the hair upon the horse's forehead and showed Halsey that the hair was still white close to the skin. The dye also rubbed off on the fingers after wetting them and rubbing it.it." [sic]

At first the Gypsy denied the accusation stoutly, but seeing his words had no effect upon the constables he pulled out a fat wallet and offered to settle.

"What do you say, young man?" asked the constable. "We ought to nab him now we have caught him. But I will leave it entirely to you. If he wants to settle for all

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 the expense your uncle has been to, I will let him off if you say so."

Halsey was young and inexperienced and of a generous disposition. So when the Gypsy thief had counted out five hundred dollars and pressed it into his hand, he said "Let them go."

So the constables and Halsey started back to the city, while the Gypsy band hastily broke camp and disappeared from that part of the country. They had no mind to risk a chance of a lynching in a country where horse stealing is held as a heinous crime. But Halsey turned his face towards Eaton Manor and two days later rode up to the house with his beloved Palo'mine.

But the rejoicing at Eaton Manor over the return of Palo'mine was soon dimmed, for he almost immediately evinced symptoms of distemper. He had probably taken cold while being tied in the woods by the Gypsies, or that was what the veterinary thought. Halsey had noted that he was unusually short of breath during the ride home, but had not dreamed that he was sick.

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 Old Rastus, who was almost as much of a horse doctor as the real veterinary, shook his head and pronounced Palo'mine a very sick horse. "Ah don' like to discourage you, Massa Halsey, when you hez jus had so much trouble bout dat hoss, but Ah af eered that he is going to heb a close call, Ah suah am."

Rastus set to work under the veterinary's instructions to do what he could for the horse. He coughed and choked intermittently and sometimes seemed very much distressed for breath. His eyes and his nose ran and his breathing was very wheezy. The treatment was to steam his neck and thus keep down the swelling in the throat. He was put upon a bran feed and given physic.

Halsey could hardly be persuaded to go to the house for his meals, but hovered about his pal constantly.

"Masser Halsey," said old Rastus one day when they had been working over the splendid horse constantly for three days, "we can't do nothin more for him. He will jes

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 hev to get well or die, jes as the good Lord says, you and me is powerless."

"But uncle Rastus, I can't have him die. Why, I have just found him. Why, he is my brother. I can't ever go to college without him."

"Well, Masser Halsey, Ah hope he gets well, but I don' know. He is powerful sick. Ah hain't never seen a sicker hoss. But we will hope for the best. But you can't help none jes hanging round here. You jes go along like he was all right. Dat is de best way. Ah've seen lots of good hosses, an somethin is alius ailin emailin' 'em [sic]. Dey is as ornery as folks bout being ailing."

Halsey tried to take Rastus' advice, but found it hard work. He tried to make plans for being away to college, but it seemed to him that everything would be spoiled if he could not take Palo'mine with him. He had lotted as much upon training the horse as he had upon the college life. But all things come to an end, and so Palo'mine's sickness reached the critical stage. Rastus

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 and the boy hung about him and fussed over him continually. Palo'mine was so weak he could no longer stand.

Halsey would not go into the house to sleep, but said he would stay up with Palo'mine. He could not bear to leave him alone, when he was so sick. So old Rastus finally went home and the boy was alone with his chum. He smoothed out the beautiful horse's foretop and talked to him. "You must buck up, old Pal. I can't have you die, you are my best pal. I won't go to college without you. You just take a brace—I'll stay right here by you."

Palo'mine was in a large box stall, and as Halsey did not want to be far away from him, he threw down a bundle of straw and lay down beside his horse friend. They had camped before together so many times in the mountains. He would camp with him now. It might be their last night together.

The Colonel coming to the barn at about midnight found the tired-out boy sleeping beside the horse in the stall. Halsey was sleeping like log, and Palo'mine was

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 breathing naturally and seemed much better. The Colonel at once awoke his nephew and told him the good news.

"He's sure escaped the Epperzootic dis time," said the old negro, "an' your uncle Rastus is one happy nigger. He's goin to get well sure as preachin."

With this good news, all repaired to the house for sleep after the long vigil.

With his natural strength to help him, Palo'mine regained his health by leaps and bounds and in two weeks he was entirely well. It was a happy day for both him and his young master, when they cantered away towards Lexington. Both were going to college. Halsey was to learn at the college while Palo'mine was to be taught the art of racing, at the hands of one of the best jockeys in Kentucky. Halsey was also to help in the training, and they would be together. So everything had come out well after all. Master and mount were again together. The trees and fences, and the broad fields, were flying past them. The joy of youth was in both the veins of the Ken-

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 tucky thoroughbred, and those of the young man. Life with its adventures and its joyous battle, was all ahead of them, the sun was bright, the sky was fair, and all was well.

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ALSEY and Palo'mine reached Lexington after three days of leisurely riding. They were dusty and tired, but very happy, or at least Halsey was happy and judging from his actions Palo'mine was happy also. But he simply signified it in horse ways and it needed a horse lover to understand his language. If Halsey dismounted and left him he watched his going until he disappeared in the distance and he was always watching when the boy returned. He usually greeted his master with a glad nicker, which said in horse language "Hello, Master. Here I am. You see I have not even stirred from my tracks since you left."

Often when the boy patted his neck, or smoothed out his foretop and mane, he would go prospecting with his soft nose in

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 the young man's pockets for a lump of sugar.

First, after reaching the city a suitable stable had to be obtained for Palo'mine. As Halsey carried letters of introduction from his uncle to several of the best stablekeepers in the city that was not hard. Yet Halsey did not take the first thing that offered, but searched until he found an ideal stable, for he was more particular about Palo'mine's quarters than about his own. He finally found a clean, well ventilated, sunny stable, not too far from the campus. After having made his beloved horse comfortable Halsey went to the campus and secured his own room at one of the dormitories.

For the first month college life and getting settled took much of the boy's spare time. He had to furnish his room and hang the pictures which had been sent from home. Then he had to get accustomed to his classes and the college curriculum.

It did not take him many days to fall in love with the old college. The campus with

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 its complement of old style buildings, its shade trees, its green lawns, its walks, and promenades, its fountains and shrubbery, and its flower beds became as familiar and much beloved a picture as was the homestead of Eaton Manor.

The student life also was very interesting, the initiations, the fraternities, the rushes, and the rivalry between classes. These all gave the usual zest to Halsey's first few weeks at the college.

But no day was ever so full that the boy did not steal away to the stable and put in some time with Palo'mine. The fine horse was the one connecting link with home. So when the boy was homesick, he would go and tell it all to Palo'mine.

Nor was it all taken out in talk, for they took many a long ride in the late afternoons and even far into the moonlit autumn nights.

Halsey was very much surprised when he finally presented Palo'mine to the trainer to have him laugh and shake his head.

"Oh, he is all right," he said in answer to the boy's surprised look solicitous

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 words. "He is a thoroughbred all right and a beauty. The trouble with him can be easily remedied. He is altogether too fat. He must be stripped to just nerve and muscle for a racer."

"But I don't think he is fat at all," rejoined the boy. "I have always kept him hard and fed him little corn or other fattening grains."

"Oh yes, I suppose so," returned the jockey. "But a racer must be all bone and muscle. There must be nothing superfluous. He must be brought down at least fifty pounds. He ought not to weigh more than a thousand pounds for a race. You see a race horse is just a large greyhound."

"How can we accomplish it?" inquired Halsey.

"Work and plenty of it, and then some," replied the jockey laconically. "Can you stand it, young man? It will be hard work. Work for you both; it will take patience and sweat, but it will pay."

"Sure I can stand it. That is what I am here for."

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 "Good," replied the jockey, whose name was Jock McBride, "we will get at him at once."

Halsey thought he was used to the saddle and he thought he knew what hard riding was, but the Kentucky jockey soon taught him that he was a novice. Every afternoon when college duties were over Palo'mine and his master were on the road. The jockey would not let them go upon the track for a month. He said that the superfluous fat must be worked off and the muscles hardened before there would be any use of getting down to the real business of developing a racer.

At first they were to do fifteen miles a day under certain conditions, then it was increased to twenty. Then twenty-five and thirty, until finally forty was reached. This long day's work could only be undertaken on Saturday afternoons and then it often took the young man until midnight to complete the trip.

But this work did not interrupt the boy's studies, for it gave him just the needed bal-

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 ance of mental and physical culture. It hardened every sinew in his body and that in turn made his brain work equally well. His thoughts were as clear as the fresh autumn air, and it was a joy to study and master hard problems.

It was a very exciting day when the jockey finally said they would go upon the track and see what Palo'mine could really do.

But even then he was not put under a watch, for there was much technique of the race to be mastered, especially the start which is very important in a running race.

If a horse gets ten or twenty feet at the start, provided the horses are all equally good, he wins. Twenty feet at one point in the race are just as good as twenty at another. So the start is very important.

The jockey would stand with the flag in his hand, and when he dropped it they were off. Halsey hated to strike Palo'mine with the quirt to give him the signal, but the spirited horse soon learned that he was to strike his best pace at one stride once the signal was

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 given, so it was not necessary to more than flick him after a little.

At first they worked out on half a mile. When the jockey held the watch on Palo'mine for the first time he was rather pleased, as he did it in fifty-five seconds, which was not bad for a green horse.

"We'll keep at him," said the jockey, "and we will soon lower that. We have got to scale that down a lot before he will be a real runner."

When the jockey himself mounted Palo'mine Halsey wanted to shout. He sat the horse so easily, and was so much a part of the steed that it was a joy to see him. Palo'mine himself also seemed to sense the fact that a master's hand was on the reins, and he at once began dancing. The little jockey seemed to fill the horse with a new fire even before he had put him to his best pace. He was able to lower Halsey's showing for the half mile by three seconds, and they were well pleased with the first real test of speed.

After they had mastered the half mile

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 they tried three quarters and then a mile and finally a mile and an eighth, which was usually the distance of the great running races.

"There are three things that make a great running horse," said the jockey one day. "The start, the finish, and an ability to keep going at an even pace all the way, somewhere near to his best clip. He must not be allowed to lag, or the spurt at the finish will not count."

The little jockey made many suggestions as to the care and feed of Palo'mine. Whenever Halsey and he went for a long hard workout, the horse had to have especial attention. He must be sponged off carefully from head to foot, especial care being taken to get out all the saddle marks. If it was dusty his nostrils must also be sponged out. His feet must be watched continually and the dirt and other foreign particles scraped out each day. There must be no chances taken with thrush, or blisters, or any other foot trouble. Brushing and currying Halsey had always attended to, but he now put in extra work in that particular.

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 "Keep his coat clean, and it will keep him on his mettle," said McBride.

"Keep his stable perfectly clean, don't let him stand in anything wet, for it is bad for the feet."

"Above all things always keep up the love between you, for a good horse will do more for those he loves than for those to whom he is indifferent. If it really came to a pinch he would do more for you than for me, this very minute. A good horse's love is worth cultivating."

Thus it was with hard study and much spare time put in with the training of Palo'mine that the happy weeks and months fairly flew.

Almost before they realized it Halsey and Palo'mine were home for the Christmas vacation. That was a happy and never to be forgotten week. One that all remembered afterwards with gratitude.

All too quickly it passed and they were back again at college and the training of the racer. So fast the months flew that it was Easter before it had seemed that another

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 week had passed and Halsey and his chum were on the road again going back to Eaton Manor.

But after arriving at the old Manor house the boy was at once struck by the sense of gloom and quiet that overhung the place. He even felt when he first galloped into the yard that something had gone wrong.

Margaret greeted him with her usual cordiality, which included a kiss, but he saw at once from her face that something was the matter.

"What is it, sis?" asked the boy.

"You will know soon enough. It has broken Uncle Hillery all up and Aunt Julia too. You know Eaton Manor has been in the family so long."

Halsey asked no more questions but followed Peggy into the house wondering what strange disaster had overtaken them.

He was surprised to see how harassed his uncle looked. It seemed to him that he had aged five years since he saw him last. Aunt Julia also was depressed and very grave in her manner.

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