"Come, Rashid," he said, "and tell me what thou findest here."
Rashid ran at once out from the tent, and there stood a fine little blooded Arabian horse, all saddled and bridled.
"Oh, what a beautiful little horse!" exclaimed Rashid.
"She only waits for her master," said a voice behind him, and he turned to find Al-Abukar smiling gravely.
"The horse is thine," he said. "She will also help to bring strength to thy limbs, and will carry thee like the wind across the plains and hills."
Little Rashid was so astonished and happy that he could not find words with which to thank his kind friend for his gift, but he kissed his hand and stammered out something. Then he threw his arms about the pony's arched neck and patted her delicate little nose. Oh, how beautiful he thought the handsome red saddle and bridle, with their silver buckles and red tassels! There is no gift that pleases a little Arab boy so much as a fine pony.
"Is she not a queen?" said Hamid, who was as much pleased as his little friend. "I rode with father to the tents of the great Sheik, where one finds the best and swiftest horses; and I helped to pick her out from dozens of other ponies. She belongs to one of the five great families, does she not, father?"
Hamid, like all little Arab boys, had been taught to love horses, and to know the history of the great breeds of Arabia as well as he did that of his own tribe.
"Oh, she knows me already!" exclaimed Rashid, with delight, as the pony rubbed her little nose against his arm.