The Moors 6i 



find the portal in the gloom. We had just light enough 

 to reach the cottage, and the shepherd at once started to 

 guide us, assuring us there would be no difficulty whatever 

 in finding the way. It was pouring with rain, however, 

 and had become terribly dark, so dark indeed that it was 

 quite impossible to detect the form of the man as he led 

 the pony, or to see my own hand when held up to the 

 sky. The path lay for some distance along a rocky cliff 

 above the Almond, which was a raging torrent, and before 

 we had gone 200 yards from the man's own house we sud- 

 denly heard him exclaim : " I'm no very sure of the way," 

 when at the next step he fell headlong into the river 

 below. He gathered himself up, however, and succeeded 

 at last in finding the gate, but nothing would induce him 

 to come any further. We were left to make the best of 

 our way home down what was now a rapid stream, though 

 generally dry, and the only path for some distance over 

 the moor. We were six miles from home, and except 

 when coming in the morning, had never been over that 

 part of the ground before. We left the reins entirely to 

 the ponies, and, rough as the ground was, being nothing 

 but a succession of big rocks and waterfalls, neither of the 

 animals made any mistake, and when we reached the flat 

 ground at the bottom of the hill they trotted gaily away, 

 as if it was broad daylight. 



Another experience of the faculty possessed by horses 

 of seeing at night, was once when I was on guard in the 

 North Camp at Aldershot. We were camped at that time 

 on Cove Common, and alongside of the Eifle Brigade was 

 a Battery of Horse Artillery, commanded by Captain 

 Chichester. Someone in authority objected to heel-ropes, 

 so all the horses of the battery were simply tied by their 



