MY HUNTER COCO. 71 



high, and, without any exception, the most perfect 

 head, neck, and eye I had ever seen — a picture in 

 shape and make, with a face full of sagacity, fire, and 

 good temper ! I was about to approach him gun in 

 hand, when my friend recommended me to put my 

 gun in the sling, as Coco was not in the habit of 

 having it carried in the hand, and would not like it. 

 Not wishing to carry my gun in the sling, I approached 

 him with it in my hand, slid my foot into the stirrup, 

 seated myself in the saddle, patted his splendid crest, 

 and walked off with him as if we had been acquainted 

 all our lives. 



" Well, but put your gun into the sling," my friend 

 continued ; " it will only tire your arm, and you can't 

 use it." 



" Why not ? I never carry my gun in a sling at 

 home with Druid till the chase is done, and perhaps I 

 shall get an unexpected shot. I like for ever to be 

 ready." 



" You cannot fire from his back. Coco will not 

 bear it, and you'll go off into the trees." 



" Yes, I can fire from his back ; and more, to be 

 sure of killing from a horse's back, I would rather 

 be on one like Coco, who had never had a gun fired 

 from him before, than on a horse used to the flash and 

 the report. Coco won't know what I am going to 



F 4 



