Alcatraz crouched for flight. Another voice answered: "They'll mill
around every night for a while till they get used to the new place.
That's the way with them crazy hot-bloods. No hoss-sense."

The voices departed. The shrinking of the stallion had made the mares
wince away in turn, but they came back now and resumed the conversation
where it had been broken off. He was careful to introduce himself to
each one. He was greatly tempted to jump the fence and talk to them at
closer hand but he knew that it was great folly to risk his neck in a
group of mares before he had made out whether or not they were amiable.
If they were cross-tempered he might be kicked to death before he could
escape.

The investigations brought entirely favorable returns. They were very
young, these Coles horses, and hence their curiosity was far stronger
than their timidity. Before long every one of the six necks was
stretched across the top-rail and when Alcatraz turned his back on them
they whinnied uneasily to call him back.

If that were the case, why did they not jump? He went back and showed
them how simple it was if they really wanted to escape and come out with
him into the wind and under the free stars of the mountains. Such a
fence was nothing to that powerful jumper. He walked calmly to it,
reared, and sailed over. That sent the mares scampering wildly, here and
there about the corral, and though they came back again after a time,
they seemed to have learned nothing. When he jumped out again not one of
them followed.

Alcatraz stood off and eyed them in disgust. When he was a yearling, he