360 The Naturalist in La Plata, 



quently used for farm work, in or out of harness, 

 and I could shoot from his back. In the peach 

 season he would roam about the plantation, getting 

 the fruit, of which he was very fond, by tugging at 

 the lower branches of the trees and shaking it down 

 in showers. One intensely dark night I was riding 

 home on this horse. I came through a road with a 

 wire fence on each side, two miles in length, and 

 when I had got nearly to the end of this road my 

 horse suddenly stopped short, uttering a succession 

 of loud terrified snorts. I could see nothing but the 

 intense blackness of the night before me, and tried 

 to encourage him to go on. Touching him on the 

 neck, I found his hair wet with the sudden profuse 

 sweat of extreme fear. The whip made no impres- 

 sion on him. He continued to back away, his eyes 

 apparently fixed on some object of horror just before 

 him, while he trembled to such a degree that I was 

 shaken in the saddle. He attempted several times 

 to wheel round and run away, but I was determined 

 not to yield to him, and continued the contest. 

 Suddenly, when I was beginning to despair of getting 

 home by that road, he sprang forward, and regularly 

 charged the (to me) invisible object before him, and 

 in another moment, when he had apparently passed 

 it, taking the bit between his teeth he almost flew 

 over the ground, never pausing till he brought me to 

 my own door. When I dismounted his terror seemed 

 gone, but he hung his head in a dejected manner, 

 like a horse that has been under the saddle all day. 

 I have never witnessed another such instance of 

 almost maddening fear. His terror and apprehen- 

 sion were like what we can imagine a man experi- 

 encing at sight of a ghost in some dark solitary place. 



