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208
Animal Heroes
·
Ernest Thompson Seton
135
"Luk
at
thot,
would
ye--but
ain't
he
a
Little
Warhorse?"
shouted
a
villainous-looking
Irish
stable-boy,
and
thus
he
was
named.
When
halfway
across
the
course
the
Jacks
remembered
the
Haven,
and
all
swept
toward
it
and
in
like
a
snow-cloud
over
the
drifts.
This
was
the
second
lesson--to
lead
straight
for
the
Haven
as
soon
as
driven
from
the
Pen.
In
a
week
all
had
learned
it,
and
were
ready
for
the
great
opening
meet
of
the
Coursing
Club.
The
Little
Warhorse
was
now
well
known
to
the
grooms
and
hangers-on;
his
colors
usually
marked
him
clearly,
and
his
leadership
was
in
a
measure
recognized
by
the
long-eared
herd
that
fled
with
him.
He
figured
more
or
less
with
the
Dogs
in
the
talk
and
betting
of
the
men.
"Wonder
if
old
Dignam
is
going
to
enter
Minkie
this
year?"
"Faix,
an'
if
he
does
I
bet
the
Little
Warhorse
will
take
the
gimp
out
av
her
an'
her
runnin'
mate."
"I'll
bet
three
to
one
that
my
old
Jen
will
pick
the
Warhorse
up
before
he
passes
the
grand
stand,"
growled
a
dog-man.
"An'
it's
meself
will
take
thot
bet
in
dollars,"
said
Mickey,
"an',
moore
than
thot,
Oi'll
put
up
a
hull
month's
stuff
thot
there
ain't
a
dog
in
the
mate
thot
kin
turrn
the
Warrhorrse
oncet
on
the
hull
coorse."
So
they
wrangled
and
wagered,
but
each
day,
as
they
put
the
Rabbits
through
their
paces,
there
were
more
of
those
who
believed
that
they
had
found
a
wonderful
runner
in
the
Warhorse,
one
that
would
give
the
best
Greyhounds
something
that
is
rarely
seen,
a
straight
stern
chase
from
Start
to
Grand
Stand
and
Haven.
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