Tags:
Fiction,
Literary,
General,
Psychological fiction,
Romance,
Classics,
Southern States,
Domestic Fiction,
Married People,
Military Bases,
Military spouses
Then deliberately he lowered his head to the ground with his ears
flattened back.
The Captain felt suddenly that he was to be thrown, and not only thrown but killed. The
Captain always had been afraid of horses: he only rode because it was the thing to do, and
because this was another one of his ways of tormenting himself. He had had his wife's
comfortable saddle exchanged for the clumsy McClellan for the reason that the raised
saddlebow gave him something to grasp in case of an emergency. Now he sat rigid, trying to
hold to the saddle and the reins at the same time. Then, so great was his sudden
apprehension, he gave up completely in advance, slipped his feet from the stirrups, lifted
his hands to his face, and looked about him to see where he would fall. This weakness
lasted only a few moments, however. When the Captain realized that he was not to be thrown
after all, a great feeling of triumph came in him. They started at a gallop once more.
The path had been leading steadily upward with the woods on either side. Now they
approached the bluff from which could be seen miles of the reservation. Far in the
distance the green pine forest made a dark line against the bright autumn sky. Struck by
the wonder of the view, the Captain had it in his mind to pause for a moment and he drew
in his reins. But here a totally unexpected happening occurred, an incident that might
have cost the Captain his life. They were still riding hard when they reached the top of
the ridge. At this point, without warning and with the speed of a demon, the horse swerved
to the left and plunged down the side of the embankment.
The Captain was so stunned that he lost his seat.
He was hurled forward on the horse's neck and his feet dangled stirrupless. Somehow he
managed to hold on. With one hand grasping the mane and the other feebly holding to the
reins, he was able to slide himself back into the saddle. But that was all he could do.
They were riding with such dizzying speed that his head swam when he opened his eyes. He
could not find his seat firmly enough to control the reins. And he knew in one fateful
instant that even so it would be of no use; there was not the power in him to stop this
horse. Every muscle, every nerve in his body was intent on only one purpose to hold on.
With the speed of Firebird's great racing sire they were flying over the wide open space
of sward that separated the bluff from the woods. The grass was glinted with bronze and
red beneath the sun. Then suddenly the Captain felt a green dimness fall over them and he
knew that they had entered the forest by way of some narrow footpath. Even when the horse
had left the open space, he seemed hardly to slacken his speed. The dazed Captain was in
half crouching position. A thorn from a tree ripped open his left cheek. The Captain felt
no pain, but he saw vividly the hot scarlet blood that dripped on his arm. He crouched
down so that the right side of his face rubbed against the short stiff hair of Firebird's
neck. Clinging desperately to the mane, the reins, and the saddlebow, he dared not raise
his head for fear it would be broken by the branch of a tree.
Three words were in the Captain's heart. He shaped them soundlessly with his trembling
lips, as he had not breath to spare for a whisper: 'I am lost'
And having given up life, the Captain suddenly began to live. A great mad joy surged
through him. This emotion, coming as unexpectedly as the plunge of the horse when he had
broken away, was one that the Captain had never experienced. His eyes were glassy and half
open, as in delirium, but he saw suddenly as he had never seen before. The world was a
kaleidoscope, and each of the multiple visions which he saw impressed itself on his mind
with burning vividness. On the ground half buried in the leaves there was a little flower,
dazzling white and beautifully