HORSES

“Ly, you black devil, stop your acting le

Lily heaved a great sigh as she felt the girth
tighten. A foot was braced in a businesslike way
against her flank; her feet moved uneasily. She was
careful, however, not to exhale all her breath, and
started another sigh before the first was properly
finished. Her soft brown eyes were reproachful.
Her tail swished with displeasure.

A pack-horse stood near by. A box of supplies
was hoisted up with a jerk and a thud on either
side of the wooden pack-saddle and secured there
with rope. A sack of flour was thrown on as a top-
load, and a tarpaulin draped over the lot. Then the
diamond hitch:—under, over, over—the animal’s
ears twitched apprehensively as the rope was
thrown from one man to the other across his back.
There was a final pull, the tying of a knot and a
smart slap on the haunch. The horse ambled off to
join his fellows.

It was August, and there had been two or three
days of rain. The river bench on the south bank

below Telegraph Creek was covered closely with
107 H2