It was hard
enough to have her favourite mare in the harness without also enduring
the spectacle of its being eaten alive.
Our leaders were joys. King being a polo pony and Milda a rabbit, they
rounded curves beautifully and darted ahead like coyotes out of the way
of the wheelers. Milda's besetting weakness was a frantic desire not to
have the lead-bar strike her hocks. When this happened, one of three
things occurred: either she sat down on the lead-bar, kicked it up in the
air until she got her back under it, or exploded in a straight-ahead,
harness-disrupting jump. Not until she carried the lead-bar clean away
and danced a break-down on it and the traces, did she behave decently.
Nakata and I made the repairs with good old-fashioned bale-rope, which is
stronger than wrought-iron any time, and we went on our way.
In the meantime I was learning--I shall not say to tool a
four-in-hand--but just simply to drive four horses. Now it is all right
enough to begin with four work-horses pulling a load of several tons.
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