There were altogether eight horses, my own four, three belonging to the post, and the animal the guide rode, a brute which kicked, and already had slightly lamed my grey.
"I shall be drowned," said Osman plaintively, "I know I shall! Can my brother swim?" pointing to Radford.
"What does he say, sir?" inquired my English servant.
"He wants to know if you can save him if he falls into the water."
"Save him? no, sir. I cannot swim a stroke. I wonder what our engineers at Aldershot would say if they had to get us over in such a craft as this? It is wuss than a pontoon!"
The boatmen wanted to take four horses across at a time; a veto was put upon this proposal on account of the guide's horse; it was determined that he should go alone. Taking the saddle off my own animal, I led him into the water; on reaching the boat I climbed into it, and tried to make the horse follow. This was by no means an easy task, he had sunk at least a foot into the mud, and evidently did not fancy the leap into the bark. Three of the boatmen now got into the river. One of them, seizing my horse's tail, twisted it violently, the others poked him from behind with their oars. Osman all this time was expostulating with the animal from the bank.
"Dear horse, jump in! You shall have as much barley as you can eat this evening."
This argument not having any effect upon the horse, Osman's language waxed stronger, and he heaped numerous curses upon the animal's ancestry.
"Drat you!" said Radford at last; "you are always a-talking when there is something to do. Go and help, can't you?" Suiting the action to the word, he gave a push to the noisy Turk, which nearly upset him into the water.
At length, and by the exertions of all our party, my horse was persuaded to make an effort. Rearing himself up, he placed his two fore-feet in the boat. A chorus of oaths and ejaculations—the hind-legs followed. Once safely in, I bandaged his eyes. The other horses, seeing that one of their number was embarked, followed without much difficulty.