True, he had none. Was there nothing about him that would serve as one? His handkerchief? No, it would be too thin. Hurrah! His jacket would do!
His rifle was in the way. It must be got rid of. It must be dropped to the ground. He could return for it.
It was let down as gently as possible, and soon left far behind.
In a twinkling Hendrik stripped off his jacket. How was it to be arranged so as to blind the quagga? It would not do to drop it.
A moment's consideration served the ready boy to mature his plan. After a moment he bent down, passed a sleeve upon each side under the quagga's throat, and then knotted them together. The jacket thus rested over the animal's mane, with the collar near its withers, and the peak or skirt upon the small of its neck.
Hendrik next leaned as far forward as he could, and with his extended arms pushed the jacket up the animal's neck, until the skirt passed over its ears, and fell down it front of its face.
It was with some difficulty that the rider, bent down as he was, could retain his seat; for as soon as the thick flap of cloth came down over the eyes of the quagga, the latter halted as if he had been shot dead in his tracks. He did not fall, however, but only stood still, quivering with terror. His gallop was at an end!
Hendrik leaped to the ground. He was no longer afraid that the quagga, blinded as he now was, would make any attempt to get off; nor did he.
In a few minutes the broken bit-ring was replaced by a strong rheim of raw leather; the bit inserted between the quagga's teeth, the head-stall safely buckled, and Hendrik once more in the saddle, with his jacket upon his back.
The quagga felt that he was conquered. His old associates were no longer in sight to tempt him from his allegiance; and with these considerations, aided by a slight dose of bit and spur, he turned his head, and moved sullenly upon the back track.