The command was needless, for Norman was already gripping the horse’s soft sides with all his might; and he kept his seat as it now came down on all fours, and darted off at a rate which startled all the rest of the occupants of the paddock into a gallop. They followed their companion round till Norman seemed able to control his mount, and brought it back to where the rest had been watching him with some anxiety.
“Well done, my boy!” said the captain, as he caressed the colt. “Down with you. Now, Raphael, you give him a turn.”
Rifle sprang into the place lately occupied by his brother, had a gallop round the great enclosure; and Tim followed and cantered up.
“That will do for this morning,” said the captain. “I like his action more and more, Jack. He’ll want very little breaking in.”
“Yes,” said Uncle Jack; “a martingale will soon check that habit of throwing up his head.”
“Hullo!” cried the captain; “what’s that?”
“Oh nothing, father,” cried Rifle, laughing. “Only Shanter. He wants to have a ride round on the colt.”
“What and scare the poor animal with his black face? Besides, he can’t ride.”
“Yohi!” shouted the black, excitedly. “Plenty mine ride. Plenty mine ride bull-cow horse fellow. Plenty mine ride.”
He strode toward the colt to mount but the captain laid his hand upon his shoulder.