"Halt!"
The horse stopped with his four feet resisting, and stood as if fixed to the ground.
"What do you say?" asked Kmita.
"The eyes and legs of a deer, the gait of a wolf, the nostrils of an elk, and the breast of a woman!" said Boguslav. "Here is all that is needed. Does he understand German command?"
"Yes; for my horse-trainer Zend, who was a Courlander, taught him."
"And the beast is swift?"
"The wind cannot come up with him; a Tartar cannot escape him."
"Your trainer must have been a good one, for I see that the horse is highly taught."
"Is he taught? Your highness will not believe. He goes so in the rank that when the line is moving at a trot, you may let the reins drop and he will not push one half of his nose beyond the line. If your highness will be pleased to try, and if in two furlongs he will push beyond the others half a head, then I will give him as a gift."
"That would be the greatest wonder, not to advance with dropped reins."
"It is wonderful and convenient, for both hands of the rider are free. More than once have I had a sabre in one hand and a pistol in the other, and the horse went alone."
"But if the rank turns?"
"Then he will turn too without breaking the line."
"Impossible!" exclaimed the prince; "no horse will do that. I have seen in France horses of the king's musketeers, greatly trained, of purpose not to spoil the court ceremonies, but still it was necessary to guide them with reins."
"The wit of man is in this horse. Let your highness try him yourself."
"Give him here!" said the prince, after a moment's thought.
Kmita held the horse till Boguslav mounted. He sprang lightly into the saddle, and began to pat the steed on his shining neck.
"A wonderful thing," said he; "the best horses shed their hair in the autumn, but this one is as if he had come out of water. In what direction shall we go?"
"Let us move in a line, and if your highness permits,
