But in the morning we
found that he had clambered up high enough to get hold of the
bottom of one of the sacks and pull it down and devour fully half
of it. He was, as Jack said, "the worst horse that ever looked
through a collar."
[Illustration: The Rattletrap in the Storm]
But the weather in the morning gave us more concern than did
the foraging of the ancient Blacky. It was even colder than the
night before, and the raw east wind was rawer, and with it all
there was a drizzling rain. It was not a hard rain, but one of
the kind that comes down in small clinging drops and blows in
your face in a fine spray. Jack got breakfast in the wagon, and
we ate the hot cakes and warmed-over grouse with a good relish.
Then we loaded in what was left of the horsefeed, and started.
It was impossible to keep warm even by walking, but we
plodded on and made the best of it. The road was hilly and stony;
but by noon we had got beyond the rain, and for the rest of the
way it was dry even if cold. The hills among which we were
winding grew constantly higher, and the quantity of pine timber
upon their summits greater.
Pages:
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128