The death of Black Baby made True more serious and earnest. He went about his daily tasks with interest and spirit, but he did not romp so much and listened more attentively to his mother’s teachings.
One day he found himself hitched up in harness with old Piebald, Ceph. Silas had thought Gipsey too spirited to begin him with, but True walked so fast, and—though very unsteadily at first—trotted so much faster than his mate that the next day he was taken out with his mother.
From her he had learned the Royal Road to Happiness and Success: “Obedience first, last, and all the time!”
It was, indeed, a proud day for the colt.
Easy it was for a horse to obey Silas Whitman, he was so careful to explain, and to be sure they understood; he never let them get fretted trying to find out what he wanted by themselves.
As soon as True found he was not expected to run or gallop in harness, he settled down to walking or trotting in his nervous brisk way, and soon the gaits of mother and son were evenly matched.
As time increased True became more and more lovable and people came for miles to see him; some even wanted to buy him and offered as much as twenty-five dollars. But Silas refused all offers for his pet. Very soon he was hitched to the “shay” alone. He stepped out bravely enough feeling the friendly hand of his master to advise and guide him. Then again he had a turn under the saddle; this was freer for there were not so many rules to remember!
When they went on trips of the latter kind, Silas, who was a very well-informed man, talked to him and told him many interesting things and gave him much instruction. Sometimes, on their way home over open fields, grassy knolls and wooded hillsides, Silas would take the wrong turning and leave True to find out the right way by himself. That strange sense of direction in horses was singularly acute in True and they invariably reached home safely, the horse enjoying this confidence of his rider.
One sunny day when the little horse was nearly two years old, they were returning from a trip up the river when Silas swooned, it was a sickness to which he was subject, and, slipping from the saddle to the road, he rolled into the ditch. True, no little disturbed, stood thoughtful a moment, wondering what he could do for his unconscious friend. Finally he caught hold of the Continental collar with his teeth and drew him gently up on the grassy border of the road, under the shade of an oak. Looking around he whinneyed for help, but, as no answer came, he turned and galloped homeward, nor did he go by the longer way of the road. Over rough, uneven, cleared spaces, he went; stone fences stretched across his way; here and there strips of dense woods interfered with but did not retard his speed or intention.
When he neared the house a curl of blue smoke told him where he would find Mistress Whitman, nor was he mistaken. He trotted straight to the kitchen window at which he was wont to receive goodies from her generous hands; there she stood, slender and womanish, beside a pot of soup, hanging on the crane, whose warm fragrance permeated the air.