But Suri did not seem to care for such a trip in the least. A broad band was securely fastened around her and a derrick swung over to lift her aboard. But little Suri stamped and champed and lifted her head, her eyes rolling in fright as she complained in loud whinnies.
No one thought of such a thing as trying to force the little mare aboard. Uncle Jens talked to her, and she quieted down a bit; but when the derrick came toward her again, once more she backed and stamped and whinnied nervously.
The other loading was finished. The sailors were closing the holds. But the Laks could not weigh anchor because little Suri, in spite of all wheedling, was flatly refusing to go aboard.
Arne only wished he had the chance Suri was refusing, but nevertheless he felt very sorry for the frightened little horse. Perhaps he could coax her a bit—he had done it often enough before.
He went over to try, fishing in his pockets as he went. Yes, there were two lumps of sugar. He put an arm over Suri’s neck and offered her one, talking to her softly the while. She nuzzled her soft brown nose into his hand and seemed to feel comforted.
“Go on, Arne,” Uncle Jens encouraged him. “She seems to listen to you.”
So Arne stood there, coaxing little Suri, feeding her sugar, talking to her, patting her, until she stopped trembling and champing and at last let him fasten the big hook in the band which was fastened firmly about her. Then he ran onto the boat and stood there talking to her from the deck. Now at last she let them swing her aboard, and though she stamped anxiously at first, she allowed Arne to take the band off and lead her down into the hold.
“Wish I could go along with you, Suri,” he said, putting his cheek against her neck and giving her a pat.
Gustav had come down to see that everything was in good order, and now he gave his young brother an encouraging nod. “That was a pretty good job, Arne; you saved the skipper a lot of time, and that may turn out to be a good thing.”