The Horse, as Comrade and Friend 



conscious I Jelt the call in my brain and nerves, 

 and I knew that Windermere was in direst 

 extremity, and was entreating me to come 

 instantly to her aid. I threw a coat over my 

 pyjamas, pulled on my boots and ran across 

 the garden for all I was worth. There was no 

 cry; but in some extraordinary way I could 

 tell exactly from what direction this soundless 

 S.O.S. call was coming, although it was per- 

 cept ably feebler than when it awoke me. As 

 soon as I left the house I realised, to my horror, 

 that the call came from the direction of the 

 pond. I ran on, but the S.O.S. became fainter 

 and fainter, and had ceased altogether before 

 I could get to the pond. As I came near, I 

 could just make out the surface of the water 

 covered with ripples, which had not yet 

 subsided, and, in the centre, a dark mass 

 silhouetted against the reflection of the dim 

 light of the sky. I knew it was the body of 

 poor Windermere and that she was dead. 



The poor mare was not got out until midday, 

 and it was not till then that we understood 

 exactly what had happened. That she had 

 evidently gone for a drink from the steep side 

 of the dam and had shpped in, we already 

 knew from the marks on the grass, which were 

 plain to see ; but we could not understand 



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