hunts as well at noon as at midnight--man! Inspiration came to Alcatraz.
The difference of color and stature, the unkempt manes and tails, the
wild eyes, were all telling a single story, now. These were not servants
to man, and since they were not his servants they must be enemies, for
that was the law of the world. The great enemy dominated, and where he
could not dominate he killed. And the herd feared the same power which
Alcatraz feared; instantly they became to him brothers and sisters, and
he stepped boldly into view.

The result was startling. From the hilltop the black stallion whinnied
shrill and short and in a twinkling the whole group was in motion
scurrying north. Alcatraz looked in wonder and saw the black fall in
behind the rest and range across the rear biting the flanks of older
horses who found it difficult to keep the hot pace. With this
accomplished and when the herd was stolidly compacted before his
driving, the black skirted around the whole group and with a magnificent
spurt of running placed himself in the lead. He kept his place easily,
a strong galloping grey mare at his hip, and from time to time tossed
his head to the side to take stock of his followers. And so they dipped
out of sight beyond the next swell of ground.

Alcatraz recovered from his amazement to start in pursuit. This was a
mystery worth solving. Moreover, the moment he made sure that these were
not man-owned creatures they had become inexplicably dear to him and as
they disappeared his heart grew heavy. His running gait carried him
quickly in view. They had slackened in their flight a little but as he
hove in sight again they took the alarm once more, the foals first
rushing to the front and then the whole herd with flying manes and tails
blown straight out.