A Ride With A Mad Horse In A Freight-Car | Page 8

of life. The car was
fortunately high, long, and roomy. I took my position in front of my
horse, watchful, and ready to spring. Suddenly her lids, which had been
closed, came open with a snap, as if an electric shock had passed
through her, and the eyes, wild in their brightness, stared directly at me.
And what eyes they were! The membrane grew red and redder until it
was of the color of blood, standing out in frightful contrast with the
transparency of the cornea. The pupil gradually dilated until it seemed
about to burst out of the socket. The nostrils, which had been sunken
and motionless, quivered, swelled, and glowed. The respiration became
short, quick and gasping. The limp and dripping ears stiffened and
stood erect, pricked sharply forward, as if to catch the slightest sound.
Spasms, as the car swerved and vibrated, ran along her frame. More
horrid than all, the lips slowly contracted, and the white, sharp-edged
teeth stood uncovered, giving an indescribable look of ferocity to the
partially opened mouth. The car suddenly reeled as it dashed around a
curve, swaying her almost off her feet, and, as a contortion shook her,
she recovered herself, and rearing upward as high as the car permitted,
plunged directly at me. I was expecting the movement, and dodged.
Then followed exhibitions of pain which I pray God I may never see
again. Time and again did she dash herself upon the floor, and roll over
and over, ladling out with her feet in all directions. Pausing a moment,
she would stretch her body to its extreme length, and, lying upon her
side, pound the floor with her head as if it were a maul. Then like a
flash she would leap to her feet, and whirl round and round until from
very giddiness she would stagger and fall. She would lay hold of the
straw with her teeth, and shake it as a dog shakes a struggling
woodchuck; then dashing it from her mouth, she would seize hold of
her own sides, and send herself. Springing up, she would rush against
the end of the car, falling all in a heap from the violence of the
concussion. For some fifteen minutes without intermission the frenzy
lasted. I was nearly exhausted. My efforts to avoid her mad rushes, the
terrible tension of my nervous system produced by the spectacle of
such exquisite and prolonged suffering, were weakening me beyond
what I should have thought it possible an hour before for anything to
weaken me. In fact, I felt my strength leaving me. A terror such as I
had never yet felt was taking possession of my mind. I sickened at the

sight before me, and at the thought of agonies yet to come. 'My God,' I
exclaimed, 'must I be killed by own horse in this miserable car!' Even
as I spoke the end came. The mare raised herself until her shoulders
touched the roof, then dashed her body upon the floor with a violence
which threatened the stout frame beneath her. I leaned, panting and
exhausted, against the side of the car. Gulnare did not stir. She lay
motionless, her breath coming and going in lessening respirations. I
tottered toward her, and, as I stood above her, my ear detected a low
gurgling sound. I can not describe the feeling that followed. Joy and
grief contended within me. I knew the meaning of that sound. Gulnare,
in her frenzied violence, had broken a blood-vessel, and was bleeding
internally. Pain and life were passing away together.
"I knelt down by her side."

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