“They now seemed to consult together what measures to take to save the colts, that were standing up to the belly in the flood, and soon determined upon a singular course, when some old mares, which had no colts, assisted them in carrying it out.
“The method they adopted was this: Every two horses took a colt between them, and pressing their sides together, kept it wedged in and lifted quite above the surface of the water.
“All the horned cattle in the vicinity had already set themselves afloat, and were swimming in regular columns toward their homes. But these noble mares, with wonderful perseverance, remained immovable under their cherished burden for the space of six hours, till, the tide ebbing, the water subsided, and the colts were out of danger.”
“The inhabitants, who had rowed to the place in boats, viewed with delight this singular manœuvre, whereby their valuable colts were saved from destruction.”
“How very curious!” exclaimed Minnie, gravely; “but I don’t see how they could get the colts up in their places without some one to lift them.”
The gentleman laughed as he assured her that mares who were intelligent enough to make such a plan could easily manage that part. “Do you suppose,” he asked, “that your pony understands any thing you say to him more than the tones of your voice?”
“O, no, uncle!”
“And yet,” he said, “a true blood horse, when at liberty, when two or more persons are conversing, will approach and seem to listen to the conversation. Even the common farm horse is quite obedient to the call of his own name, and will not stir, when desired to stand, until his own name is pronounced.
“They have a kind of reason, too. I have seen a horse who, in ploughing, would walk very steadily toward the directing pole, and halt when his head had reached it. I knew of another horse who seemed to have a just idea of time, and calculated it so correctly, that he always neighed about ten minutes before the time of ceasing work, whether in summer or winter.”
“I don’t see how he could do that, uncle Harry.”