"I wish I had spurs on," muttered Mark; "I'd give you a couple of such digs, my fine fellow." Then he sat thinking. "Good job I haven't got any on. I should trip, for certain, when we were at it." Then the cob raised its dripping mouth, which it had kept with lips very close together, to act as a strainer to keep out tadpoles, water-beetles, leeches, or any other unpleasant creatures that might be in the water, took two or three steps back and aside, and then, noticing that there was a goodly patch of rich juicy herbage close by the spring, it lowered its head once more, uttered a snort as it blew the grass heavily, to drive off any flies that might be nestling among the strands, and began to crop, crop at the rich feed. "Oh come, I'm not going to stand that," cried Mark, dragging at the pony's head. "You're so full of oats now that you can hardly move, and he'll be looking back directly, and thinking I'm afraid to come on." The cob's head was up: so was its obstinate nature. It evidently considered it would be a sin to leave such a delicious salad, so tempting and juicy, and suitable after a peck or two of dry, husky oats; and, thoroughly determined not to pass the herbage by, it set its fore feet straight out a good distance apart, and strained at the reins till, as Mark pulled and pressed his feet against the stirrups, it seemed probable that there would be a break. "Oh, you brute!" cried the lad angrily; "you ugly, coarse, obstinate brute! Pony! You're not a pony, I feel sure; you're only a miserable mule, and your father was some long-eared, thick-skinned, thin-tailed, muddle-headed, old jackass. Look here! I'll take out my sword, and prick you with the point." The cob evidently did not believe it, and kept on the strain of the bit, till the lad took a rein in each hand, and began to saw the steel from side to side, making it rattle against the animal's teeth. This seemed to have a pleasant effect on the hard mouth, and produced the result of the cob nodding its head a little; and just then, to Mark's great disgust, Ralph turned his head and looked back. "There! I expected as much. Now go on, you beast, or I'll kill you." The pony snorted with satisfaction, for in his excitement, the rider had slackened the reins a little. Down went the animal's muzzle; there was another puff to blow away the insects, and it began to crop again, with that pleasant sound heard when grazing animals are amongst rich herbage. Then followed a fresh struggle, and the pony won, taking not the slightest notice of the insulting remarks made by its rider about its descent, appearance, and habits.