Boys -- Juvenile fiction; Fantasy literature; Nature -- Juvenile fiction; Self-reliance -- Juvenile fiction
For only answer the other squealed and whinnied, grimacing and kicking
his legs up at the same time. Then the horses advanced to them, and
gathering round in a close crowd began touching Martin with their noses.
He liked it--the softness of their sensitive skins, which were like
velvet, and putting up his hands he began to stroke their noses. Then
one by one, after smelling him, and being touched by his hand, they
turned away, and going down into the valley were soon scattered about,
most of them grazing, some rolling, others lying stretched out on the
grass as if to sleep; while the young foals in the troop, leaving their
dams, began playing about and challenging one another to run a race.
Martin, following and watching them, almost wished that he too could go
on four legs to join them in their games. He trusted those wild horses,
but he was still puzzled by that strange man, who had also left him now
and was going quietly round on all fours, smelling at the grass.
By-and-by he found something to his liking in a small patch of tender
green clover, which he began nosing and tearing it up with his teeth,
then turning his head round he stared back at Martin, his jaws working
vigorously all the time, the stems and leaves of the clover he was
eating sticking out from his mouth and hanging about his beard. All at
once he jumped up, and flying back at Martin, snatched him up from the
ground, carried him to the clover patch, and set him upon it, face down,
on all fours; then when Martin sat up he grasped him by the head and
forced it down until his nose was on the grass so as to make him smell
it and know that it was good. But smell it he would not, and finally the
other seized him roughly again and opening his mouth, forced a bunch of
grass into it.
"It's grass, and I sha'n't eat it!" screamed Martin, crying with anger
at being so treated, and spewing the green stuff out of his mouth.
Then the man released him, and withdrawing a space of two or three
yards, sat down on his haunches, and, planting his bony elbows on his
knees thrust his great brown fingers in his tangled hair, and stared at
Martin with his big yellow goat's eyes for a long time.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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