Echoes of the Hunting Horn 



making a decision, and suddenly, with freedom-loving 

 snorts, they wheel and dash away. The wind plays 

 frolics in their flowing manes, shoeless heels are kicked 

 heavenwards, and tails swish an equine farewell as they 

 streak away towards the gap on the hilltop. 



The chance of such behaviour has been foreseen. A 

 man appears in the gap and bars their progress. Swerv- 

 ing away left-handed in a movement that would be the 

 envy of a cavalry squadron, they charge for a gateway 

 lower down. The gate is normally wide open, but 

 to-day it is not only closed but a man stands beside it. 

 Gradually, the not very elaborate, but assuredly effective, 

 cordon of four men closes-in, and the galloping animals 

 soon find themselves hemmed-in in a corner between 

 the gap and the gate. Kind words soon calm their 

 fears and they no longer endeavour to put into practice 

 any ideas of bolting. Three are bridled and led away; 

 and until we get out of earshot, neighs of protest from 

 the captured three keep replying to the neighs of fare- 

 well from their still free companions. 



Down in the yard the stables are whitewashed and 

 cheerful-looking, ready to receive their occupants. The 

 fresh-smelling straw is bedded-down, as though inviting 

 the new arrivals to make themselves comfortable. Clean- 

 scented, well-saved hay in each manger-rack adds the 

 final touch of cosiness to the loose-boxes. 



The mud and the dandruff that has accumulated 

 since April are disturbed by the application of brush 

 and curry. Grooms hiss merrily as they try to prevent 

 the clouds of dust-particles from entering their nostrils 

 and throats. Manes and tails that have grown unkempt 



172 



