“Wait! Be careful! Look out or you’ll be caught in the swamp yourselves!”
On and on ran Tinkle’s father and the others. They could tell which way to go by hearing Tinkle’s voice calling to them, just as your dog can tell where you are, even though he can not see you, when he hears you whistling to him.
“There he is! I see him!” cried Tinkle’s father as he came in sight of the pool of water, on the edge of which the pony was stuck in the mud.
“We’re coming! We’re coming, Tinkle!” he cried.
Then something dreadful happened. Tinkle’s father, and four or five of his friends, became stuck in the swamp mud also. Their feet sank away down, for they were heavier than Tinkle, and, try as they did, they could not lift themselves out.
“Oh!” cried Tinkle’s father. “We are caught too!”
Only Dapple Gray had not been caught. He had run slowly, fearing something like this might happen.
Just see what trouble Tinkle made by running away! For it was really his fault that the other ponies and the horses became mired, though of course Tinkle had not meant to do wrong. He had not thought; but often not thinking makes as much trouble as doing something on purpose.
“Help! Help!” cried Tinkle’s father. “We are caught in the mud too.”