Here is a story told by Black Beauty, as pretty a little horse as ever
wore a white star on his forehead.
* * * * *
One day late in the autumn my master had a long journey to go on
business. I was put to the dog-cart, and John, the coachman, drove. There
had been a great deal of rain, and now the wind was very high and blew
the dry leaves across the road in a shower. We went along merrily till
we came to the toll-bar and the low wooden bridge. The river banks were
rather high, and the bridge, instead of rising, went across just level,
so that in the middle, if the river was full, the water would be nearly
up to the woodwork and planks. But as there were good, substantial rails
on each side, people did not mind it.
The man at the gate said the river was rising fast, and he feared it
would be a bad night. Many of the meadows were under water, and in one
low part of the road the water was halfway up to my knees. The bottom was
good, however, and master drove gently, so it was no matter.
When we got to the town I had, of course, a good feed, but as the
master’s business engaged him a long time, we did not start for home till
rather late in the afternoon. The wind was then much higher, and I heard
the master say to John we had never been out in such a storm. And so I
thought, as we went along the skirts of a wood, where the great branches
were swaying about like twigs, and the rushing sound was terrible.
“I wish we were well out of this wood,” said my master.
“Yes, sir,” said John, “it would be rather awkward if one of these
branches came down on us.”
The words were scarcely out of his mouth when there was a groan, and a
crack, and a splitting sound. And crashing down amongst the older trees
came an oak, torn up by the roots. It fell across the road just before
us. I will never say I was not frightened, for I was. I stopped still,
and I believe I trembled. Of course I did not turn round or run away; I
was not brought up to that. John jumped out and in a moment was at my
head.
“That came very near,” said my master. “What’s to be done now?”
“Well, sir, we can’t drive over that tree, nor yet get round it. There’s
nothing for us but to go back to the four cross-ways, and that will be a
good six miles before we get round to the wooden bridge again. It will
make us late, but the horse is fresh.”
So back we went and round by the cross roads. By the time we got to
the bridge it was very nearly dark. We could just see that the water
was over the middle of it. As this sometimes happened when there were
floods, master did not stop. We were going along at a good pace, but the
moment my feet touched the first part of the bridge, I felt sure there
was something wrong. I dared not go forward, and I made a dead stop. “Go
on, Beauty,” said my master, and he gave me a touch with the whip, but
I dared not stir. He gave me a sharp cut. I jumped, but I dared not go
forward.
“There’s something wrong, sir,” said John, and he sprang out of the
dog-cart, and came to my head and looked all about. He tried to lead me
forward. “Come on, Beauty; what’s the matter?” Of course, I could not
tell him, but I knew very well that the bridge was not safe.
Just then the man at the toll-gate on the other side ran out of the
house, tossing a torch about violently.
“Hoy, hoy, hoy! halloo! stop!” he cried.
“What’s the matter?” shouted my master.
“The bridge is broken in the middle, and part of it is carried away; if
you come on you’ll be into the river.”
“Thank God!” said my master. “You Beauty!” said John, and took the bridle
and gently turned me round to the right-hand road by the river side. The
sun had set some time. The wind seemed to have lulled off after that
furious blast which tore up the tree. It grew darker and darker, stiller
and stiller. I trotted quietly along, the wheels hardly making a sound on
the soft road. For a good while neither master nor John spoke, and then
master began in a serious voice. I could not understand much of what they
said, but I found they thought that if I had gone on as the master wanted
me, horse, chaise, master, and man would have fallen into the river.
Master said, God had given men reason, by which they could find out
things for themselves; but he had given animals instinct, which did not
depend on reason, and which was much more prompt and perfect in its way,
and by which they had often saved the lives of men.
At last we came to the park gates, and found the gardener looking out for
us. He said that mistress had been much alarmed ever since dark, fearing
some accident had happened, and that she had sent James off on Justice,
the roan cob, towards the wooden bridge to make inquiry after us.
We saw a light at the hall door and at the upper windows, and as we came
up, mistress ran out, saying to master, “Are you really safe, my dear?
Oh! I have been so anxious, fancying all sorts of things. Have you had no
accident?”
“No, but if your Black Beauty had not been wiser than we were, we should
all have been carried down the river at the wooden bridge.” I heard no
more, as they went into the house, and John took me to the stable. Oh,
what a good supper he gave me that night, a good bran mash and some
crushed beans with my oats, and such a thick bed of straw! and I was glad
of it, for I was tired.
—ANNA SEWELL