the patience of the lynx waiting for the porcupine to uncurl or the
patience of the cat amazingly still for hours by the rat-hole. In such a
manner Alcatraz endured. Once a month, or once a year, he found an
opening to let drive at the master with his heels, or to rear and
strike, or to snap with his teeth wolfishly. If he missed it meant a
beating; if he landed it meant a beating postponed; and so the dream had
grown to have the man one day beneath his feet. Now, on the hilltop,
every nerve in his forelegs quivered in memory of the feel of live flesh
beneath his stamping hoofs.

It is said that sometimes one victory in the driving finish of a close
race will give a horse a great heart for running and one defeat,
similarly, may break him. But Alcatraz, who had endured so many defeats,
was at last victorious and the triumph was doubly sweet. It was not the
work of chance. More than once he had tested the strength of that old
halter rope, covertly, with none to watch, and had felt it stretch and
give a little under the strain of his weight; but he had long since
learned the futility of breaking ropes so long as there were stable
walls or lofty corral fences to contain him. A moment of local freedom
meant nothing, and he had waited until he should find open sky and clear
country; this was his reward of patience.

The short, frayed end of the rope dangled beneath his chin; his neck
stung where the rope had galled him; but these were minor ills and
freedom was a panacea. Later he would work off the halter as he alone
knew how. The wind, swinging sharply to the north and the west, brought
the fragrance of the forests on the slopes of the Eagles, and Alcatraz
started on towards them. He would gladly have waited and rested where he
was but he knew that men do not give up easily. What one fails to do a
herd comes to perform. Moreover, men struck by surprise, men stalked