full weight. The effort had little or no effect on Pirate's mouth.
His rider remembered about the tree, but the nearest was many yards
away. Over the wall they went, and down the field. Pirate tried to
get his head down, but he received a check. Score one for the man.
Warburton, his legs stiffened in the stirrups, his hands well down,
his breath coming in gasps, wondered where they would finally land.
He began to use his knees, and Pirate felt the pressure. He didn't
like it at all. Oddly enough, Warburton's leg did not bother him as
he expected it would, and this gave him confidence. On, on; the dull
pounding of Pirate's feet, the flying sod, the wind in his face: and
when he saw the barb-wire fence, fear entered into him. An inch too
low, a stumble, and serious injuries might result. He must break
Pirate's gait.

He began to saw cow-boy fashion. Pirate grew very indignant: he was
being hurt. His speed slackened none, however; he was determined to
make that fence if it was the last thing he ever did. He'd like to
see any man stop him. He took the deadly fence as with the wings of a
bird. But he found that the man was still on his back. He couldn't
understand it. He grew worried. And then he struck the red-brown muck
bordering the stream. The muck flew, but at every bound Pirate sank
deeper, and the knees of his rider were beginning to tell. Warburton,
full of rage, yet not unreasonable rage, quickly saw his chance. Once
more he threw back his weight; this time to the left. Pirate's head
came stubbornly around; his gait was broken, he was floundering in
the stream. Now Warburton used his heels savagely. He shortened the
reins and whacked Mr. Pirate soundly across the ears. Pirate plunged
and reared and, after devious evolutions, reached solid ground. This
time his head was high in the air, and, try as he would, he could not
lower his neck a solitary inch.