He was a stout handsome bay with long black mane and tail, and,
though he was only two years old, the Indians had already taught him
to carry all sorts of burdens, to stand without being tied, to go
anywhere over all sorts of ground fast or slow, and to jump and swim
and fear nothing,--a truly wonderful creature, strangely different
from shy, skittish, nervous, superstitious civilized beasts. We turned
him loose, and, strange to say, he never ran away from us or refused
to be caught, but behaved as if he had known Scotch boys all his
life; probably because we were about as wild as young Indians.
One day when father happened to have a little leisure, he said, "Noo,
bairns, rin doon the meadow and get your powny and learn to ride him."
So we led him out to a smooth place near an Indian mound back of the
shanty, where father directed us to begin. I mounted for the first
memorable lesson, crossed the mound, and set out at a slow walk along
the wagon-track made in hauling lumber; then father shouted: "Whup him
up, John, whup him up! Make him gallop; gallopin' is easier and better
than walkin' or trottin'.
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