l6o THE WONDER-BOOK OF HORSES 



indeed, sad days began for Ogier. One by one 

 his men were picked off the walls by the sharp- 

 shooters in the high tower ; one by one his squires 

 and the faithfuUest defenders of the castle met 

 their death. Finally, there was no one left alive 

 but himself and the horse Broiefort — ^two be- 

 sieged by ten thousand. But they had held out 

 well; for, according to the old song-writers, it 

 was now seven years since Charlemagne had be- 

 gun the siege. 



And now Ogier bethought him that if he could 

 escape to his native country, Denmark, his own 

 kinsfolk might befriend and shelter him. The 

 chance was worthy of a trial, at least. Very early 

 one morning, therefore, he went down to visit 

 Broiefort in his stall. There was not another 

 handful of oats in the castle ; not a grain of corn, 

 not a wisp of hay was to be found. Ogier him- 

 self had not had a mouthful of food for two days. 

 To hold the place longer was to starve. 



" Horse," said Ogier, stroking the creature's 

 neck and sides — " horse, so good and brave and 

 proud! You have stood by me well. A firm 

 friend you have been in many a strait. I wonder 

 if you will help me once again ? " 



Broiefort understood every word ; he whinnied 



