The Horse, as Comrade and Friend 



Gad, what a voice Disciple has got ! It vibrates 

 his whole body, and you as well ! 



Suddenly against the opalescent sunlit mist, 

 maybe a mile away, a string of five tiny ghostly 

 figures appear, hardly to be distinguished from 

 the mist, racing for all they are worth ; manes 

 flying, tails high over their backs, plunging 

 and kicking in their strides. Hold on now ! 

 for Disciple is exploding with excitement and 

 grunts. For the moment he is far too excited 

 to neigh — ^he is taking in the vision. You 

 caught a glimpse of them as they rose extended 

 over the crest of a roll ; now they swing round 

 and dive into the mist of a hollow. When the 

 vision appeared. Disciple was as turned to 

 stone, not a fhcker or a quiver of a muscle — 

 looking, looking, as if his eyeballs would burst. 

 Then the little galloping figures vanish in the 

 mist. With a mighty roar uprises Disciple in 

 protest, and is off. Look where you are going, 

 for he is in earnest and he takes some holding 

 in. He is going to get to those flyers, or will 

 perish in the attempt. And lo, as you make 

 a rise over the crest, there they are below 

 racing up out of the valley, their figures sil- 

 houetted against the gleaming mist. Along 

 they come, ears like lancets, manes and tails 

 awave, squeahng and kicking high in the air 

 and at each other. Disciple is taken aback, 

 and himself pulls up to meet the onset ; and 

 here they are, as nice a looking lot of big polo 



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