“Suppose we went back to the farm now to the girls in the barn? Like as not they wouldn't turn us out.”
Falkenberg thought for a moment.
“The dogs will make a row,” he said.
We came out into a field where two horses were loose. One had a bell at its neck.
“Nice fellow this,” said Falkenberg, “with his horses still out and his womenfolk still sleeping in the barn. It'd be doing these poor beasts a good turn to ride them a bit.”
He caught the belled horse, stuffed its bell with grass and moss, and got on its back. My beast was shy, and I had a deal of trouble to get hold of it.
We rode across the field, found a gate, and came out on to the road. We each had one of my rugs to sit on, but neither had a bridle.
Still, we managed well enough, managed excellently well; we rode close on five miles, and came to another village. Suddenly we heard some one ahead along the road.
“Better take it at a gallop,” said Falkenberg over his shoulder. “Come along.”
But Falkenberg was no marvel of a horseman, for all his leg; he clutched the bell-strap first, then slithered forward and hung on with both arms round the horse's neck. I caught a glimpse of one of his legs against the sky as he fell off.