The horse halts not again, till the crystal current is surging against his flanks, and the legs of his rider are submerged knee-deep under the surface. The proximity of the river explains the altered pace. The latter, tossing up its head, gives utterance to a joyous neigh and, with outstretched neck, and spread nostrils, advances in a gait gradually increasing to a canter. Something at length appears to rouse from his reverie, and stimulate him to greater speed-his steed, at the same time. His shoulders shrouded under a serapé, one edge of which, flirted up by the wind, displays a portion of his figure: his limbs encased in “water-guards” of jaguar-skin: thus sufficiently sheltered against the dews of the night, or the showers of a tropical sky, he rides on-silent as the stars shining above, unconcerned as the cicada that chirrups in the grass beneath, or the prairie breeze playing with the drapery of his dress. The startled stag, his own horse, the wolf, and the midnight moon, are the sole witnesses of his silent abstraction. There is no speech-not a whisper-to betray its nature. He appears to be under the influence of some all-absorbing emotion, from which no common incident can awake him. Nor does he, by voice or gesture, urge it impatiently onward, when the howl-bark of the prairie-wolf causes it to fling its head on high, and stand snorting in its tracks.
#MAGIC DUELS KEFNET SECOND TRIAL FREE#
Unlike the stag, he does not seem pressed for time but advances in a slow, tranquil pace: so silent as to seem ceremonious.Īpparently absorbed in solemn thought, he gives free rein to his steed: permitting the animal, at intervals, to snatch a mouthful of the herbage growing by the way. He, too, is going in the direction of the river. Heedless of the affrighted deer-either of its presence, or precipitate flight-the Headless Horseman rides on. But the man-the rider? Ah! About him there is something to cause both-something weird-something wanting!Įven the unreasoning animal can perceive this and, after gazing a moment with wildered eyes-wondering what abnormal monster thus mocks its cervine intelligence-terror-stricken it continues its retreat nor again pauses, till it has plunged through the waters of the Leona, and placed the current of the stream between itself and the ghastly intruder. In it there appears nothing amiss-nothing to produce either wonder or alarm. The horse is perfect in all its parts-a splendid steed, saddled, bridled, and otherwise completely caparisoned. What has challenged the stag to such protracted scrutiny? With haunches in quivering contact with the sward, and frontlet faced to the rear, he continues to gaze-his large brown eyes straining upon the intruder in a mingled expression of fear and bewilderment. Yielding to instinctive dread, he is about to resume his flight: when something in the appearance of the horseman-some unnatural seeming-holds him transfixed to the spot. In the clear moonlight of a southern sky, he recognises the most ruthless of his enemies-man. Springing clear of his couch, and bounding a score of yards across the prairie, he pauses to look back upon the disturber of his dreams. The sound, significant to the ear of the stag, causes a quick change in his air and attitude. There is a ring of metal-the clinking of steel against stone. He only uprears his head and, with antlers o’ertopping the tall grass, listens for a repetition of the sound.Īgain is the hoofstroke heard, but with altered intonation. His domain is shared by the wild steeds of the savannah, given to nocturnal straying. He does not forsake his covert, nor yet rise to his feet. The stag of Texas, reclining in midnight lair, is startled from his slumbers by the hoofstroke of a horse.
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