Part III
Chapter 34: An Old War Horse
(continued)
"Well," said he, "I hardly know; we always liked to hear the trumpet sound,
and to be called out, and were impatient to start off, though sometimes
we had to stand for hours, waiting for the word of command;
and when the word was given we used to spring forward as gayly and eagerly
as if there were no cannon balls, bayonets, or bullets.
I believe so long as we felt our rider firm in the saddle,
and his hand steady on the bridle, not one of us gave way to fear,
not even when the terrible bomb-shells whirled through the air
and burst into a thousand pieces.
"I, with my noble master, went into many actions together without a wound;
and though I saw horses shot down with bullets, pierced through with lances,
and gashed with fearful saber-cuts; though we left them dead on the field,
or dying in the agony of their wounds, I don't think I feared for myself.
My master's cheery voice, as he encouraged his men, made me feel as if
he and I could not be killed. I had such perfect trust in him that
while he was guiding me I was ready to charge up to the very cannon's mouth.
I saw many brave men cut down, many fall mortally wounded from their saddles.
I had heard the cries and groans of the dying, I had cantered over ground
slippery with blood, and frequently had to turn aside to avoid trampling on
wounded man or horse, but, until one dreadful day, I had never felt terror;
that day I shall never forget."
Here old Captain paused for awhile and drew a long breath; I waited,
and he went on.
"It was one autumn morning, and as usual, an hour before daybreak our cavalry
had turned out, ready caparisoned for the day's work, whether it might be
fighting or waiting. The men stood by their horses waiting,
ready for orders. As the light increased there seemed to be some excitement
among the officers; and before the day was well begun we heard the firing
of the enemy's guns.
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