The horse was to go to the
man, at the man's bidding alone, without force or coercion. "The better
they are the sooner you learn 'em that," was one of Jack's pet theories,
while his proudest boast--his only boast--perhaps was that he'd "never
been beaten on that yet."
"They have to come sooner or later if you stick at 'em," he had said,
when I marvelled at first to see the great creatures come obediently to
the click of his tongue or fingers. So far in all his wide experience
the latest had been the third day. That, however, was rare; more
frequently it was a matter of hours, sometimes barely an hour, while now
and then--incredulous as it may seem to the layman--only minutes.
Ten minutes before Jack put the brown colt to the test it had been a
wild, terrified, plunging creature, and yet, as he stepped back to try
its intelligence and submission, his face was confident and expectant.
Moving slowly backwards, he held out one hand the hand that had proved
all kindness and comfort and, snapping a finger and thumb, clicked his
tongue in a murmur of invitation.
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