on a wide, wide sea."
The reason for the horse's hurry would appear to be a very good one
when brought to light and explained; and this we shall probably be
expected to do at this point, an historian having no choice but to tell
what actually happened. There had been a mishap in the saddle-bow.
The bow is that little arch in front which, when the saddle is in
place, fits over the bony ridge above the horse's shoulders. This part
of Janet's saddle, instead of being made in the good old-fashioned
way,--which consists in selecting the fork of a tree and shaping it to
the purpose,--had been more cheaply manufactured of cast iron; and that
part of the bow which clasps the withers and sits on the shoulders
spread out in the form of iron wings or plates. The saddle, at some
time in its history, had received a strain which was too much for it,
and one of the iron wings broke partly across; and this flaw, hidden by
leather and padding, had been lurking in the dark and biding its time.
When Janet braced her foot in the stirrup and made the horse dodge, it
cracked the rest of the way, whereupon the jagged point of metal
pressed into his shoulder with her weight upon it. It was nothing less
than this that was spurring him on.
A saddle-bow, into which the horse's shoulders press like a wedge (for
it must not rest its weight on top of the withers), needs to be strong,
because it is the part which withstands whatever weight is thrown into
the stirrups in mounting or making sudden evolutions, besides which it
takes whatever strain is put on the horn; in short, it is what holds
the saddle in place. With a broken bow and girths that are none too
tight, a rider's seat is but temporary at the best; and it is safe to
say that Janet's ride was not quite as long as it seemed. With a
broken bow a saddle must, sooner or later, start to turn,--and it is a
strange sensation to upset while you are sitting properly in the saddle
with your feet in the stirrups; it is impossible seeming; and with a
woman, who is fastened more tightly to the saddle itself, the sliding
of the girth on the horse's barrel is as if she were soon going to be
riding upside down.
Janet, sticking valiantly to her seat and riding like a trooper, felt
suddenly that peculiar sensation and had a moment's horror of she knew
not what. The next she was aware of she had struck ground in some
confused and complicated way and quickly got herself right side up.
And while s
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