We unsaddled the horses and let them refresh themselves by rolling
on the sandy soil, and graze after a fashion upon the coarse tufts of
withering herbage which grew around. There was no water here; but this
did not so much matter, for both they and we had drunk at a little muddy
pool we found not more than an hour before. We were finishing our meal
of the food that we had brought with us, which, indeed, we needed sorely
after our sleepless night and long day's journey, when my horse, which
was knee-haltered close at hand, lay down to roll again. This it could
not do with ease because of the rope about its fore-leg, and I watched
its efforts idly, till at length, at the fourth attempt, after hanging
for a few seconds upon its back, its legs sticking straight into the
air, it fell over slowly towards me as horses do.
"Why are its hoofs so red? Has it cut itself?" asked Leo in an
indifferent voice.
As it chanced I also had just noticed this red tinge, and for the first
time, since it was most distinct about the animal's frogs, which until
it rolled thus I had not seen. So I rose to look at them, thinking that
probably the evening light had deceived us, or that we might have passed
through some ruddy-coloured mud. Sure enough they _were_ red, as though
a dye had soaked into the horn and the substance of the frogs. What was
more, they gave out a pungent, aromatic smell that was unpleasant, such
a smell as might arise from blood mixed with musk and spices.
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