II.
A RIDE ON THE BLACK STALLION.
Aaron was not ready as soon as the children were, but they waited for him with lamblike patience, considering their eagerness. Finally Aaron came out of his cabin and waved his hand as a signal that he was ready. The children ran to him, and together they went to the barn, where Timoleon had his stable. This barn had once been the corn crib. It was built of stout logs, hewn square and mortised together, and was in the middle of a five-acre field that had once been in cultivation, but was now overrun with Bermuda grass. Here Timoleon reigned in solitude, except when Aaron was with him. In this stable he remained securely imprisoned, save when Aaron took him out for exercise.
Timoleon was a horse renowned throughout the country—renowned for his victories on the race track and for his vicious temper. Even in his old age he was fleet and fierce, more dangerous, people said, than a tiger, and stronger than a lion. Fierce and strong, he was also beautiful. His coat glistened in the sun like satin. His mane was flowing and heavy, his tail long and full. His neck and shoulders were thick and powerful; his head tapering to the muzzle, his ears small and in constant motion, as when the night wind stirs the leaves of the willow; his nostrils red and flexible, and all his motions quick and graceful.
As Aaron and the children approached the stable, they heard Timoleon pounding against the heavy logs with his feet.
“I’m gwine back!” cried Drusilla. “He tryin’ ter git out now.”
But she kept along with the rest.
“What is the matter with him?” asked Sweetest Susan.
“He’s fretting,” replied Aaron—“fretting or playing.”
He went to the stable door and unlocked it, saying “What now?”
“Son of Ben Ali, what have I done?” cried Timoleon. “To-day I go hungry because the corn is on the cob, to-morrow I’ll be foundered because the corn is shelled. Is it, then, nothing to you that I am old and my teeth are bad? What have I done? As for the fodder, it is full of dust. To put my nose in it is to cough all night. In the desert, I have been told an old horse has new rice and cracked barley.”