“Ready,” answered the Major.
“Go,” cried Kate, giving her horse his head.
Away they went, like twin arrows from a bow: the riders laughing in the very abandon of fun; the horses, with outstretched necks, straining every nerve. The Major’s steed, though a superior one, was somewhat too heavily built, and this quickly began to affect his speed. Arab, on the contrary, was in his element. With his neck extended almost in a straight line, his nostrils expanded, and his fine eyes a-blaze, he soon sprang far ahead of his adversary. Kate, as she left the Major’s side, merrily looked over her shoulder, waving her hand in triumph. In a few moments she drew in at the blasted pine, walking Arab slowly until Major Gordon came up.
“Your horse runs like a deer,” said that gentleman. “Yet, from his looks, I should think a child might ride him, when he’s at full speed; he doesn’t seem to move his body at all; it is only his limbs; but they are drawn up as beautifully as a greyhound’s.”
“He’s a darling,” said Kate, enthusiastically, leaning over and patting his neck; at which Arab looked around gratified. “I wouldn’t exchange him for half of England.”
Major Gordon smiled a little at this enthusiasm, though he could not but think that it became Kate charmingly.
“Poor Selim,” said the Major, patting his horse in turn, “you did not win, and it’s not often you’re beaten. But never mind, old fellow, you can carry your master in battle, if need be, as gallantly as the best.”
“To confess the truth,” answered Kate, “I had no idea Selim could run so well. He’s a noble fellow,” she continued, leaning over and patting him also. “Ha! you like it, do you, my brave Selim? But I declare if Arab isn’t jealous. See, he is ready to bite both you and your horse, Major. I must draw him off,” she added, laughingly, as she turned his head, striking him at the same time with her heel, so that he sprang to one side. “Fie, fie, Arab!” and she patted him anew, “you should be ashamed of yourself, sir. You are first in the heart of your mistress, and might allow her at least to be civil to others.”
By this time they had reached the edge of the cedar-swamp, which Kate had described. The road was much decayed, so that it would have been necessary to walk the horses, even if there had been no race. Kate was in high spirits, and rattled on gayly. To the Major, unaccustomed for several years to female society, except at rare intervals, her conversation was perfectly bewitching; and indeed it would not have been without its spell even to the most ennuied habitue of the choicest circles; for it exhibited that rare union of refinement and wit, intellect and sentiment, which, when combined in woman, renders her so irresistible.
“Ah! here we are at the spring,” she said, at last, drawing up Arab at the side of the road, where a pool of dark, amber-colored water, limpid as flint glass, lay slumbering under the mossy roots of an enormous red cedar. Slowly the rich, aromatic water welled out from the impenetrable recesses of the swamp, into this natural basin, ebbing away from it, at the other side, as imperceptibly, and flowing off over silver-white sand, till it lost itself beneath the rude bridge crossing the road. Gigantic trees, laden with dark foliage, fairly met overhead, obscuring the sunshine, and filling the air around with spicy odors. To add to the fairy-like charm of the spot, the atmosphere was as cool as that of a cave.