SON OF THE WIND
seemed scarcely to stand, rather to poise for an instant between his struggle up from the earth and his leap into the air. Carron found himself borne. toward the clouds; felt the humped back, the heave and shake, a magnificent, negligent motion. Only half the strength of the horse went into it, so certain he was of getting rid of the weight. Then, the easy concussion when they touched earth again, as if alighting with wings, the young fetlocks yielding and springing, resilience running through the whole frame; then the stop, suspension of motion, as the astonished back realized itself still burdened. That was the amazing sensation for the rider—to feel the body shrink and try to shiver away from under him; then, with muscles stiffening, drawing together, drawing energy from an inexhaustible source, leap! He was carried upward again, mounting air.
No anticipated dreams, however high and mightily imagination had built, could approach the moment of the flaming fact. Nothing he had fancied was like the tremendous stretch and play of the muscles that contracted and extended themselves between his grasping knees; nothing like the sense of strength gathering, gathering itself, increasing doubly with every spent effort. Wonderful to feel that fountain of power beneath his power. Leap
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