in Afric’s Forest and Jungle 
horses with one of them, telling him honestly 
why I did so. I never saw Bucephalus again. I 
heard that the traveller sold him to a Sierra Leone 
merchant who killed him in trying to subdue 
him, having galloped him twenty-one miles in a 
single heat. He was as fiery as ever at the end 
of that time, but the next morning he was 
stretched out dead—unconquerable to the last. I 
never saw his like before and I hope I will never 
see it again. To better fit him for war, he had 
been trained to bite people and to strike at them 
with his forefeet. He would spring at the hostler 
and make his teeth crack together like a lion’s. 
Even after I had galloped him long and furiously, 
his fierce snort and wild neigh would make chil¬ 
dren flee as if a lion were coming. 
154 
