"I have no fears for myself," answered George; "there is no danger in trying to get upon his back that I see, and once there, I will risk being thrown."
"That is so," continued his friend, "and suppose we try it some day."
After some more discussion upon the subject, George agreed to make the attempt to mount the colt early the following morning, and his young friend seconded his decision heartily.
The next morning, a full hour before breakfast-time, the boys were out, eager to participate in the sport of conquering a wild colt. The colt appeared to snuff trouble, for he was unusually gay and crank that morning. His head and tail were up, as he went prancing around the field, when the boys put in their appearance.
"Drive him into a corner!" exclaimed George.
"Drive the wind into a corner as easily," replied one of the boys, just beginning to appreciate the difficulties of the situation.
"Well, he must be caught before he can be mounted," said George, philosophically. "I did not promise to mount him until he was bridled."
"That is so," responded another boy, more hopeful of results. "That corner yonder is a good place for the business," pointing to the eastward.
So they all rallied to drive the colt into the proposed corner; and, in the language of another who has described the scene, "after a deal of chasing and racing, heading and doubling, falling down and picking themselves up again, and more shouting and laughing than they had breath to spare for, they at last succeeded in driving the panting and affrighted young animal into the corner. Here, by some means or other (it was difficult to tell precisely how) they managed to bridle him, although at no small risk of a broken head or two from his heels, that he seemed to fling about him in a dozen different directions at once."
"Lead him away from this corner," said one of the boys.