It was
a beautiful sight. And then Nobs turned in behind them and trotted
slowly back toward me. He did not bark, nor come rushing down upon
them, and when he had come closer to them, he proceeded at a walk.
The splendid creatures seemed more curious than fearful, making
no effort to escape until Nobs was quite close to them; then they
trotted slowly away, but at right angles.
And now the fun and trouble commenced. Nobs, of course, attempted
to turn them, and he seemed to have selected the stallion to work
upon, for he paid no attention to the others, having intelligence
enough to know that a lone dog could run his legs off before he
could round up four horses that didn't wish to be rounded up. The
stallion, however, had notions of his own about being headed, and
the result was as pretty a race as one would care to see. Gad, how
that horse could run! He seemed to flatten out and shoot through
the air with the very minimum of exertion, and at his forefoot ran
Nobs, doing his best to turn him. He was barking now, and twice he
leaped high against the stallion's flank; but this cost too much
effort and always lost him ground, as each time he was hurled heels
over head by the impact; yet before they disappeared over a rise
in the ground I was sure that Nob's persistence was bearing fruit;
it seemed to me that the horse was giving way a trifle to the right.
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