Scarcely
had they more than time enough to reach the gorge below when the pack
burst into full chorus. Haught led the way then around the rough rim for
better vantage points. I was mounted on one of the horses Lee had gotten
for me--a fine, spirited animal named Stockings. Probably he had been a
cavalry horse. He was a bay with white feet, well built and powerful,
though not over medium size. One splendid feature about him was that a
saddle appeared to fit him so snugly it never slipped. And another
feature, infinitely the most attractive to me, was his easy gait. His
trot and lope were so comfortable and swinging, like the motion of a
rocking-chair, that I could ride him all day with pleasure. But when it
came to chasing after hounds and bears along the rim Stockings gave me
trouble. Too eager, too spirited, he would not give me time to choose
the direction. He jumped ditches and gullies, plunged into bad jumbles
or rock, tried to hurdle logs too high for him, carried me under low
branches and through dense thickets, and in general showed he was
exceedingly willing to chase after the pack, but ignorant of rough
forest travel. Owing to this I fell behind, and got out of hearing of
both hounds and men, and eventually found myself lost somewhere on the
west side of See Canyon. To get out I had to turn my back to the sun,
travel west till I came to the rim above Horton Thicket, and from there
return to camp, arriving rather late in the afternoon.
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