The moment Brownie felt a strange burden on her back she grew unmanageable and tried in every way to dislodge it.
“Grip her sides with your knees, boy!” called Mrs. Blake.
The moment Brownie felt the restraining hand removed from her bridle she started off on a lope for the pasture gate. The boys had left it open as they entered and through it the colt shot and made down the lane, Paul dinging to her with might and main, knowing it was now a case of “stick or flick.”
Just as both of them began to feel better acquainted and hopes for enjoyment rose in Paul’s breast, the horn of a passing motor tooted on the main road at the end of the lane. The awful blast startled Brownie so that she wheeled and tore back to her home in the pasture.
Oh what a race that was! Over hummocks and swales of fern! then suddenly the colt stopped short by bracing her fore-feet and humping her back. And as suddenly, Paul became an aviator. Luckily, he landed in comparatively soft sod so that the only injury he sustained was a loss of wind.
“I never knew Brownie to act like that before,” commented the Captain’s wife, as Dudley and she stood watching.
“Oh, Paul isn’t experienced like me! I can manage her all right, you will see!” bragged Dudley, fearing lest Mrs. Blake might decide to give Brownie her freedom.
However, the colt had to be caught before Dudley could ride, and both boys as well as Mrs. Blake grew hot and tired in their endeavours. Finally, Brownie was beguiled by some young tender carrots, and Dudley climbed upon her back while Mrs. Blake fed the colt the delicacy.
“Run and shut that pasture gate, Paul!” shouted Dudley.
Paul did as he was bid and then sat upon the top rail to watch the boastful rider.