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208
Animal Heroes
·
Ernest Thompson Seton
197
"Ho,
Balder!"
"Hi,
Storbuk!"
How
the
people
cheered
as
the
Horse
went
bounding
and
gaining!
But
he
had
left
the
line
at
his
top
speed;
the
Storbuk's
rose
as
he
flew--faster--faster.
The
Pony
ceased
to
gain.
A
mile
whirled
by;
the
gap
began
to
close.
The
Pony
had
over-spurted
at
the
start,
but
the
Storbuk
was
warming
to
his
work--striding
evenly,
swiftly,
faster
yet,
as
Sveggum
cried
in
encouragement:
"Ho,
Storbuk!
good
Storbuk!"
or
talked
to
him
only
with
a
gentle
rein.
At
the
turning-point
the
pair
were
neck
and
neck;
then
the
Pony--though
well
driven
and
well
shod-slipped
on
the
ice,
and
thenceforth
held
back
as
though
in
fear,
so
the
Storbuk
steamed
away.
The
Pony
and
his
driver
were
far
behind
when
a
roar
from
every
human
throat
in
Filefjeld
told
that
the
Storbuk
had
passed
the
wire
and
won
the
race.
And
yet
all
this
was
before
the
White
Ren
had
reached
the
years
of
his
full
strength
and
speed.
Once
that
day
Rol
essayed
to
drive
the
Storbuk.
They
set
off
at
a
good
pace,
the
White
Buk
ready,
responsive
to
the
single
rein,
and
his
mild
eyes
veiled
by
his
drooping
lashes.
But,
without
any
reason
other
than
the
habit
of
brutality,
Rol
struck
him.
In
a
moment
there
was
a
change.
The
Racer's
speed
was
checked,
all
four
legs
braced
forward
till
he
stood;
the
drooping
lids
were
raised,
the
eyes
rolled--there
was
a
green
light
in
them
now.
Three
puffs
of
steam
were
jetted
from
each
nostril.
Rol
shouted,
then,
scenting
danger,
quickly
upset
the
sled
and
hid
beneath.
The
Storbuk
turned
to
charge
the
sled,
sniffing
and
tossing
the
snow
with
his
foot;
but
little
Knute,
Sveggum's
son,
ran
forward
and
put
his
arms
around
the
Storbuk's
neck;
then
the
fierce
look
left
the
Reindeer's
eye,
and
he
suffered
the
child
to
lead
him
quietly
back
to
the
starting-point.
Beware,
O
driver!
the
Reindeer,
too,
"sees
red."
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