"
"And which have been spreading northward ever since," continued Paul,
alive with interest. "Let's try to get a near look at them, Henry."
"I'm with you," said Henry.
Full of boyish curiosity they went around the prairie, keeping in the edge
of the woods until they came much nearer to the herd of wild horses,
which numbered about thirty. As a considerable wind was blowing their odor
away from the animals, they could approach very closely without their
presence being suspected.
The horses were clean limbed and well-shaped, and all except one were
small and dark of color. But that one was a noticeable exception. He was
almost pure white, far larger than the others, and he had a great flowing
white mane and tail.
The herd grazed in a bunch, but the magnificent white stallion stood apart
on the side next to the woods. He, too, grazed at intervals, but most of
the time he stood, head erect like a sentinel or rather a leader. It
seemed to both the boys that his whole attitude was full of spirit and
majesty, the vast freedom of the wilderness. He carried, too, the
responsibility for the whole herd and he knew it.
"A prairie King," whispered Paul. "Wouldn't I like to catch such a
splendid animal, Henry, and ride him into New Orleans!"
"No you wouldn't, Paul," replied Henry, "That stallion wasn't made to be
ridden by anybody.
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