There was literally
only an instant's pause, and then with a clatter of hoofs the plungings
began, and were met with muscles of iron, and jaw set like a vice, as the
man, with heels dug into the ground dragged back on the rope, yielding as
much as his judgment allowed--enough to ease the shocks, but not an inch
by compulsion.
Twice the rearing, terrified creature circled round him and then the rope
began to shorten to a more workable length. There was no haste, no
flurry. Surely and steadily the rope shortened (but the horse went to the
man not the man to the horse; that was to come later). With the
shortening of the rope the compelling power of the man's will forced
itself into the brute mind, and, bending to that will, the wild leaps and
plungings took on a vague suggestion of obedience--a going WITH the rope,
not against it; that was all. An erratic going, perhaps, but enough to
tell that the horse had acknowledged a master. That was all Jack asked
for at first, and, satisfied, he relaxed his muscles, and as the rope
slackened the horse turned and faced him; and the marvel was how quickly
it was all over.
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