A YOUNG gentleman bought a hunting-mare from a farmer at Malton in
England, and took her with him to Whitby, a distance of nearly sixty
miles. One Wednesday morning the mare was missing from the field where
her owner had placed her. A search was made for her, but with no
success.
The next day the search was renewed. The owner and his groom went some
ten miles, and were told that the mare had crossed the railway the
morning before. At this point the trail was easy. The mare had taken the
high road to her old home at Malton.
Six men had tried, but in vain, to stop her. At a place called
Pickering, she jumped a load of wood and the railway gates, and then,
finding herself in her old hunting country, made a bee-line for home. In
doing this, she had to swim two rivers, and cross a railway.
She was found at her old home, rather lame, and with one shoe off, but
otherwise no worse for her gallop of nearly sixty miles across the
country,--all done in one day; for her old owner found her on Wednesday
night, standing at the gate of the field where she had grazed for two
previous years. Was she not a pretty clever horse?