The grind began to tell upon him. As he trotted along, thirst-stricken, miserably nourished, weary from loss of sleep and this ceaseless toil, he sought frankly for cause to rebel, as he had done in the first hour of this strange call to new duty. And he found it. He found it not only in the man's weight, and the infrequent contact of spurs, and the tight grip on the reins, all as on that first occasion, but he found it as well in other things--in the dust thrown up by the little gray ahead, in the sun's rays slanting into his eyes from the west, in the scorching, blistering heat of this same ruthless orb beating down upon his back. Suddenly, cost him what it would, he dropped out of the fox-trot into a walk, prepared to fight for this change of stride to the last breath. He did not hold to it, however, even though his master, curiously enough, permitted him the change. Pride asserted itself, and after a time, of his own volition, finding the gap between himself and the others much too wide to please him, he broke into a canter and quickly closed the gap, crowding back into his place between the other two horses. That was all of rebellion, though the mood still remained. Bitter, disappointed, nervous, and irritable, he continued forward, wanting things--wanting food and water, wanting sounds of voices, wanting a respite from this unnerving grind. But he made no effort to get them or to show that he wanted them. And he knew why he maintained this attitude of meek acceptance. He was too weak to enforce his demands. He knew that it required energy to buck and pitch, and he knew that he lacked this energy. So he continued along in sullen resignation until, accepting the hint of his instincts, he closed his eyes. This brought relief, and after a time, his movements becoming ever more mechanical, he found himself adrift upon a peaceful sea of semi-coma, oblivious to all trouble--hunger pangs, thirst, weariness. When he returned to full consciousness, somewhat refreshed and fit for farther distances, he found the sun well down the western sky, the cool of evening wrapping him about in delightful zephyrs, and he was still keeping his place between the two horses.