"O you dear horse!" Martin would exclaim, rubbing the warm,
velvet-soft, sensitive nose with his hand.

He soon discovered that they were just as fond of play as he was,
and that he too was to take part in their games. Having fed as long
as they wanted that morning, they all at once began to gather
together, coming at a gallop, neighing shrilly; then the wild man,
catching Martin up, leaped upon the back of one of the horses, and
away went the whole troop at a furious pace to the great open dry
plain, where Martin had met with them on the previous day. Now it
was very terrifying for him at first to be in the midst of that
flying crowd, as the animals went tearing over the plain, which
seemed to shake beneath their thundering hoofs, while their human
leader cheered them on with his shrill, repeated cries. But in a
little while he too caught the excitement, and, losing all his fear,
was as wildly happy as the others, crying out at the top of his
voice in imitation of the wild man.

After an hour's run they returned to the valley, and then Martin,
without being compelled to do so, rolled about on the grass, and
went after the young foals when they came out to challenge one
another to a game. He tried to do as they did, prancing and throwing
up his heels and snorting, but when they ran from him they soon left
him hopelessly behind. Meanwhile the wild man kept watch over him,
feeding him with mare's milk, and inviting him from time to time to
smell and taste the tender grass. Best of all was, when they went
for another run in the evening, and when Martin was no longer held
with a tight grip against the man's side, but was taught or allowed
to hold on, clinging with his legs to the man's body and clasping
him round the neck with his arms, his fingers tightly holding on to