But the horses stayed in the hills most of the time. The feed in the cow pastures was rather scant, and one had to learn to distinguish the grass from heather, or harebells, or thistles, which Sir Wilton learned to do after several sorry mistakes.
One June morning, when he had been with the Pedersons about two months, he was feeding away peacefully in a sheltered spot, when he heard a sound of mad galloping close at hand. He looked up hurriedly and saw Black Fury bearing down upon him. For a few seconds he looked at his enemy in astonishment, but when the vicious black colt wheeled by his side and lashed out with both heels at him he knew what was up. The vicious kick missed him narrowly, so he wheeled about and faced his adversary, watchful and on guard. The black colt retreated for fifty feet and stood looking at him belligerently. Then he reared upon his hind legs and began pawing the air like a windmill and walking toward Dapple Dandy,
