The Horse, as Comrade and Friend 



strikes something quite good. He stops dead, 

 snufEs and snorts and scrapes at it with his 

 foreleg. Another deep snuff, then up goes 

 his head with the curled-over Up. Repeated 

 two or three times, and, following up a line 

 diagonal to the ride and leading off it, the 

 investigation is closed with a sharp neigh and 

 a confident plunge into the brushwood. He 

 has got on to quite fresh spoor, and, if you 

 watch carefully, you can see traces of it in 

 bruised grass and newly-shifted leaves. 



He knows he is all right now, and moves 

 forward at quite a fast walking pace. You 

 come to a sandy patch, and can see by the 

 superimposed footprints and their sizes, that 

 there are at least five or six in the string, all 

 fairly small ponies. Disciple bends down for 

 a sniff, but doesn't waste time. In some 

 occult manner he knows they are a good way 

 off yet, so hurries along. No use calling just 

 yet. Then you come across a place where 

 they had stopped to feed a little, and can see 

 the cropped grass and a few tufts pulled up. 

 The tufts are quite fresh. A little further on, 

 as the ponies moved off after their feed, there 

 are droppings. Disciple stops for details, and 

 each one is examined. He comes to quick 

 decisions, and is off again at that fast walk 

 ears well pricked in front. 



All at once he starts violently, and pulls up 

 sharp. He has heard something long before 



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