I was once travelling in the interior of Portugal with several
companions. My horse had never been in that part of the country before.
We left our inn at daybreak, and proceeded through a mountainous
district to visit some beautiful scenery. On our return evening was
approaching, when I stopped behind my companions to tighten the girths
of my saddle. Believing that there was only one path to take, I rode
slowly on, but shortly reached a spot where I was in some doubt whether
I should go forward or turn off to the left. I shouted, but heard no
voice in reply, nor could I see any trace of my friends. Darkness was
coming rapidly on. My horse seeming inclined to take the left hand, I
thought it best to let him do so. In a short time the sky became
overcast, and there was no moon. The darkness was excessive. Still my
steed stepped boldly on. So dense became the obscurity, that I could
not see his ears; nor could I, indeed, distinguish my own hand held out
at arm's-length. I had no help for it but to place the reins on my
horse's neck and let him go forward.
We had heard of robberies and murders committed; and I knew that there
were steep precipices, down which, had my horse fallen, we should have
been dashed to pieces. Still the firm way in which he trotted gave me
confidence. Hour after hour passed by. The darkness would, at all
events, conceal me from the banditti, if such were in wait--that was one
consolation; but then I could not tell where my horse might be taking
me. It might be far away from where I hoped to find my companions.
At length I heard a dog bark, and saw a light twinkling far down beneath
me, by which I knew that I was still on the mountain-side. Thus on my
steady steed proceeded, till I found that he was going along a road, and
I fancied I could distinguish the outlines of trees on either hand.
Suddenly he turned on one side, when my hat was nearly knocked off by
striking against the beam of a trellised porch, covered with vines; and
to my joy I found that he had brought me up to the door of the inn which
we had left in the morning.
My companions, trusting to their human guide, had not arrived, having
taken a longer though safer route. My steed had followed the direct
path over the mountains which we had pursued in the morning.
Another horse of mine, which always appeared a gentle animal, and which
constantly carried a lady, was, during my absence, ridden by a friend
with spurs. On my return, I found that he had on several occasions
attacked his rider, when dismounted, with his fore-feet, and had once
carried off the rim of his hat. From that time forward he would allow
no one to approach him if he saw spurs on his heels; and I was obliged
to blindfold him when mounting and dismounting, as he on several
occasions attacked me as he had done my friend.
My horse had till that time been a willing, quiet animal. How many
human beings have, by thoughtless, cruel treatment, been turned from
faithful servants into implacable foes. I must urge my young readers
always to treat those who may be dependent on them with kindness and
gentleness, rather because it is their duty so to do, than from fear of
the consequences of an opposite course.