So we heaved him on to a wooden pack, and the other
chlorodyney figures of woe climbed on to the remaining queer-looking
saddles.
Blease tried a horse which had a thoughtful eye. It kicked him on the
knee, and trod on his toe, so he relinquished the joy of riding for the
serener pleasure of walking. Jan clambered on to it, whereupon it stood
on its forelegs, and as there were no stirrups and the saddle back hit
him behind, he landed over its neck, remaining there propped up by a
stick which was in his hand. After readjusting himself inside the two
wooden peaks of the saddle, he testified his disapproval to the beast,
and trotted away in style, leaving a row of grinning Montenegrins and
boys behind with the exception of one who clung to reins and other bits
of saddlery, imploring him to stop. It would seem as if pack ponies were
never meant to trot, but at last he shook off the pony boy, passed Miss
Brindley (whose horse was looking at himself in a puddle with such deep
and concentrated interest that he pulled her over his head and landed
her in the middle of the water), and reached the vanguard of the party,
who had deserted their horses for a lift on a lorry--Willett, sitting in
front with the driver, was shrunk like a concertina inside his great
coat.
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