For some moments I could
think of nothing but my extraordinary escape from destruction. Within
reach of my hand lay the creature who had carried me, huddled and
motionless; and to left and to right of me, and one a little nearer
the base of the cliff, five of those sorrel horses that had been
chief of our pursuers. One only of them was alive, and he, also,
broken and unable to rise--unable to do else than watch with fierce,
untamed, glazing eyes (a bloody froth at his muzzle,) every movement
and sign of life I made.
I myself, though bruised and bleeding, had received no serious injury.
But my Yahoo would rise no more. His master was left alone amidst his
people. I stooped over him and bathed his brow and cheeks with the
water that trickled from the cliffs close at hand. I pushed back the
thick strands of matted yellow hair from his eyes. He made no sign.
Even while I watched him the life of the poor beast near at hand
welled away: he whinnied softly, and dropped his head upon the
bracken. I was alone in the unbroken silence.
It seemed a graceless thing to leave the carcasses of these brave
creatures uncovered there.
Pages:
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98