Trooper Tales — page 233: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Story of a Cavalry Horse. 217 Guess we could serve out an enlistment pretty well to- gether.” | It all came about that the new gelding was issued to the tall trooper, and after that he was known as Sheridan in the Black Horse troop. The first thing which any cay- alry horse learns is that a certain bugle-call sounds at headquarters twice a day, and that it causes every cavalry- man to run for a filled nosebag. Then an officer shouts: “Feed,” after which the filled nosebag is strapped in the proper place. Sheridan learned to whinny expectantly with the others, when the feed-call sounded. But all the calls and army movements were a perfect chaos in the black recruit’s brain at first. He wondered why he was left behind in the morning when all other horses, save | sick ones, were saddled, formed into platoons and ridden away. Sheridan tried hard to stand quietly when the regulation saddle was first cinshed about him by the tall trooper. He tried very hard to do the right thing and keep his four feet-near the turf, when the man mounted. But there was spirit in the black recruit. He would be- come nervous, in spite of the reassuring whispers of the big cavalryman, and he would plunge and fret when he did not understand. Gradually, however, Sheridan learned to feel the thoughts of his gentle, patient rider. He learned to wheel at the touch of a spurless heel. He learned to an- swer the weight of a bridle-rein upon his neck, and from the indefinable sameness of the many bugle commands, there emerged familiar notes to the ears of the black COnNIGE OOKS. CO