When Minnie was in her ninth year, her father’s brother and wife made them a visit. This gentleman was exceedingly fond of horses, and a good judge of their excellences.
Minnie was eager to exhibit her pony, and invited her uncle to the stable for that purpose.
When they went to that part of the building where his stall was, the lamb was quietly feeding by the side of her friend; but as soon as she heard a strange voice, she ran under the pony for protection, and popped her head out between his hind feet.
The gentleman laughed heartily at their strange appearance, but after a careful examination of her pet, told her she might well be proud of him, as he had very good points, and was in every way a capital little fellow.
“You must make the most of your uncle Harry,” exclaimed her father merrily. “He is an inveterate story-teller, and can give you any amount of information about horses, ponies, &c.”
“O, I’m so glad!” cried Minnie, laughing and clapping her hands. “I love to hear stories so dearly!”
“I’m going to try the black mare,” said the gentleman. “What do you say to riding with me on the pony?”
“May I, mamma? Please let me,” urged the child.
“I have not the slightest objection; my dear.”
“Come, then, and I will tell you stories to your heart’s content.”
They were soon on their way, when, after giving her a few hints about holding her reins, he began: —
“There was once a pony mare which had a young colt. They were put to graze in a field adjoining the River Severn, where there was rich pasturage. One day the pony made its appearance before the gentleman’s house to whom she belonged, and, by clattering with her feet and other gestures, drew his attention. A person being sent out, she immediately galloped off through various gates all broken down, occasionally glancing back to be sure she was followed.
“They soon came to a field, through which she passed directly for a spot in the river, over which she hung with a mournful look, and there the colt was found drowned.”
“O, how sorry she must have been!” exclaimed Minnie. “I suppose she thought her master could bring the colt to life again.”
“I’ll tell you another, and a more lively story,” said uncle Harry, smiling.
“A noble gentleman in France, called Monsieur de Boussanelle, captain of cavalry in the royal regiment, tells about a horse belonging to his company, which was disabled by age from eating his hay or oats. This horse was fed for two months by a couple of his companions on his right and left, who ate with him. Perceiving his infirmity, they drew the hay out of his rack, chewed it, and then put it before their aged comrade. They prepared his oats for him in the same way.”
“I like those horses, they were so kind,” urged Minnie. “I hope, uncle, you have a great many stories as good as that.”
The gentleman smiled archly, and then proceeded.
“The island of Krutsand, which is formed by two branches of the Elbe, is frequently laid under water, during the time of the spring tides. In the early part of the year 1794, the water one day rose so rapidly that the horses, which were grazing in the plain with their colts, suddenly found themselves standing in deep water; upon which they all set up a loud neighing, and collected themselves as closely together as possible.
“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 conversa tion. 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.”
“Horses are very susceptible to music,” he went on. “I owned a horse once who would stop eating, and listen attentively with pricked, moving ears, and steady eyes, the instant he heard the note low G; and I knew of another that was similarly affected by a high note.”
Minnie laughed, as she said, “I mean to try my pony just as soon as I get home.”
“I dare say, if you were to take your accordeon to the stable, he would be delighted. I have watched many of these noble animals on the military field, and there is no doubt they are pleased with martial music.
“I remember hearing of an experiment made in the year 1829, on some of the Duke of Buckleuch’s hunters. A gentleman went toward them in the field, but they were shy of his approach, as he was a stranger, and slowly retreated, till he sounded a small musical instrument, called a mouth Æolian harp. On hearing this, they immediately erected their heads and turned round. On his sounding it again, they approached nearer, when he began to retreat, and they to advance. Having gone over a paling, one of the horses came up to him, putting its mouth close to his breast, seeming delighted with the music which he continued to produce. As the other horses were coming up, apparently to follow the example of their more confident comrade, the gentleman retired.
“As you like stories so well,” he added, archly, “I must tell you about the first horse I ever owned. My brother Frank gave him to me before he went to sea; and a splendid fellow he was, too. He was a perfect mouse color, with an arching neck, and a handsome, black, flowing mane. I was living at home then, and we always used him to carry us to church.
“I believe Duke knew as well as I did when Sunday came, for he regularly walked up from the pasture where he was grazing, in time to be harnessed, though he never did this any other day. Once it happened that father and mother were both ill, so that none of us went to church; but at the usual time Duke came trotting to the door, where he stood for a few minutes neighing frequently and looking anxiously toward the house, and then trot ted off a mile and a half to church by himself. Several persons saw him going up into the yard, and walking demurely into the shed while the bell was ringing, and there he stood quietly until the service was through, when he came home again, just as I was going out to find him.”