Chapter 10.
Reuben Smith Reuben Smith was left in charge of the stables when Mr. York went to London.
He was a very smart man and gentle with us.
Most men with his smart ways would have been coachmen like Mr. York.
It was now early in April and the family was to be coming home sometime in May.
Mr. Smith was to drive the carriage into town and get it all fixed up.
He was to take me with him so he could ride me home after he dropped it off.
We left the carriage at the maker's and Smith rode me to the White Lion Inn where I could rest and eat.
There the man was told to feed me well and ready me for the trip home at four o'clock.
After I ate, I was being rubbed down when the man found a nail loose in one of my front shoes.
Later that afternoon, when Reuben Smith found out about the nail, he told the man I would be fine till he got home.
He left again, saying he had met some friends and he would be back soon.
He spoke in a loud voice which was quite unlike him.
Letting the nail go until we got home was not something he would usually do, either.
His decision surprised me.
It was nearly nine o'clock when he finally came.
He seemed in a very bad mood, and he yelled loudly at the man who was keeping me.
The man who owned the stable stood at the door, and Reuben Smith yelled at him, too.
He got on my back and put me into a full gallop even before we got out of town.
It was very dark and the roads were stony, making my loose shoe become even looser.
Finally, it came off.
Ruben Smith paid no attention to the road or to me.
A long road up ahead was covered with large, sharp stones that no horse should be driven over quickly.
With no shoe on, the road would be very dangerous for me.
When Reuben Smith made me gallop, I was frightened, but he kept hitting me with the whip and wanted me to go even faster.
Of course, my shoeless foot hurt terribly.
The hoof was broken and split, the inside cut painfully by the sharp stones.
No horse could keep his footing on this road.
The pain was too great.
I stumbled and fell down hard on my knees.
I flung Smith off my back as I fell.
At the speed we were going, he must have fallen quite hard himself.
I soon got back on my feet and limped to the side of the road where there were no stones.
I could see Reuben Smith lying a few yards beyond me, but he didn't get up.
He tried once, but gave a great groan and fell back on the road.
I could have groaned too, for I was in great pain from both my foot and my knees, but horses are used to living through their pain in silence.
I made no sound, but just stood there and listened.
The only sounds were a few low notes of a nightingale.
Nothing moved but the white clouds near the moon and the brown owl that flitted over the hedges.
It was sometime in the middle of the night when I heard the sound of horses' feet.
As the sound came nearer, I neighed loudly and was thrilled to hear an answering neigh from Ginger in the den of men's voices.
They came slowly over the stones and stopped to see the man lying on the ground.
It's Reuben, said one of the men as he bent over him.
He's dead.
His horse must have thrown him.
Who would have thought that this black horse would do such a thing?
The other man asked.
The same man tried to lead me forward.
I took a step but almost fell again.
Whoa, the man said in a surprised voice.
Look at this horse.
His knees are bleeding and his hoof is cut to pieces.
Poor fella.
Reuben should have known not to ride him over these stones without a shoe.
He must have been drinking in town.
Otherwise he would not have done it.
His poor wife, one of the men said.
She sent me to come and find him.
I will never forget that night walk.
It was more than three miles long.
One man took off slowly with the body in the cart.
The other man led me as I limped along in great pain.
He kept patting me and said such nice words to me.
At last I reached my stable where I got some corn.
The man wrapped up my knees in wet bandages.
He then tied my foot in a wrap filled with medicine to take the pain away.
The next day, the doctor said he hoped my joint was not hurt.
I went through a lot of pain in the days to come.
Ruben's wife did, too.
If only Reuben Smith could have stayed away from that cursed drink, we all would have been better off.
