"Yes," nodded Ephraim.
"But the horse and mule will never make it over the rocks. I'll have to leave them behind or stay and starve with them."
"That is true."
"Rather than do that," said Connor, fencing for an opening, "I'd leave the poor devils here to live in the valley."
"That cannot be. No animals are allowed to enter."
"What? You'd allow this pair to die at the gate of the valley?"
"No; I should lead them first into the mountains."
"This is incredible! But I tell you, this horse is my friend—I can't desert him!"
He fumbled in his coat pocket and then stretched out his hand toward the chestnut; the horse hobbled a few steps nearer and nosed the palm of it expectantly.
"So!" muttered Ephraim, and shaded his eyes with his hand to look. He settled back and said in a different voice: "The horse loves you; it is said."