one abutment and go over into
the river. I had no doubt that the bridge was down, or, if not, that its
flooring was torn up.

I realised suddenly that it was my turn to go out of the world. I had
seen people going out as though their turn came in a curious order, not
unlike games which children play. But somehow I never thought that my
turn would come. I was not really in that game. I was looking on when my
name was called out.

El Mahdi struck the stone abutment and the bridge loomed. I dropped the
reins and clung to the saddle, expecting the horse to fall with his legs
broken, drive me against the sleepers and crash through.

We went on to the bridge like a rattle of musketry and thundered across.
Horses, resembling women, as I have heard it said, are sometimes
diverted from their purpose by the removal of every jot of opposition.
With the reins on his neck, El Mahdi stopped at the top of the hill and
I climbed down to the ground. My legs felt weak and I held on to the
stirrup leather.

Jud dismounted, seized my bit, and ran his hand over El Mahdi's face. "I
can't make head nor tail of that runnin'," he said. "He ain't scared nor
he ain't mad."

"You couldn't tell with him," I answered.

"There never was a scared horse," responded Jud, "that wasn't nervous,
an' there never was a mad one that wasn't hot. But this feller feels
like a suckin' calf. It must have been devilment, an' he ought to be
whaled."

"It wouldn't do any good," said I; "he'd only fight you and try to kill
you."

"He's a dam' curious whelp," said Jud. "He must a knowed that the bridge
was all right."

"How could he have known?" said I.

"They say," replied Jud, "that horses an' cattle sees things that folks
don't see, an' that they know about what's goin' to happen. It's
powerful curious about the things they do know."

We slipped the reins over the horses' heads and walked back to the
bridge. Jud went on with his talking.

"Now, you can't get a horse on to a dangerous bridge, to save your life,
an' you can't get him on ice that ain't strong enough to hold him, an'
you can't get him to eat anything that'll hurt him, an' you can't get
him lost. An' old Clabe says there's Bible for it that a horse can see
spooks. I tell you, Quiller, El Mahdi knowed about that bridge."

Deep in my youthful bosom I was convinced that El Mahdi knew. But I put
it wholly on the ground that he was a genius.

We crossed the river, led the horses down to the