But I had little time to watch the hunt or to marvel at these
islanders, for of all these mad creatures the very horse upon
which I sat was the maddest. You understand that he was himself
a hunter, and that the crying of these dogs was to him what the
call of a cavalry trumpet in the street yonder would be to me.
It thrilled him. It drove him wild. Again and again he bounded
into the air, and then, seizing the bit between his teeth, he
plunged down the slope and galloped after the dogs.

I swore, and tugged, and pulled, but I was powerless.

This English General rode his horse with a snaffle only, and the
beast had a mouth of iron. It was useless to pull him back. One
might as well try to keep a grenadier from a wine-bottle. I gave
it up in despair, and, settling down in the saddle, I prepared
for the worst which could befall.

What a creature he was! Never have I felt such a horse between
my knees. His great haunches gathered under him with every
stride, and he shot forward ever faster and faster, stretched
like a greyhound, while the wind beat in my face and whistled
past my ears. I was wearing our undress jacket, a uniform simple
and dark in itself--though some figures give distinction to any
uniform--and I had taken the precaution to remove the long
panache from my busby. The result was that, amidst the mixture
of costumes in the hunt, there was no reason why mine should
attract attention, or why these men, whose thoughts were all with
the chase, should give any heed to me. The idea that a French
officer might be riding with them was too absurd to enter their
minds. I laughed as I rode, for, indeed, amid all the danger,