University of Virginia Library

THE DOUBLE RESCUE.

You like to view those mettled horses grazing
In yonder pasture, brutes of noblest breed;
They make, you say, a picture past all praising,
Save one alone—this old and sorry steed.
Old—thirty-three; few horses grow much older;
Eyes dim, but ears that hear my faintest call;
See how he rests his head upon my shoulder!
The dear old friend to me is worth them all.
In coming here you crossed a streamlet narrow,
Creeping its way; they call it Rocky Run.
Shallow in summer, coursing like an arrow
O'er stony rapids ere its mouth be won;
But in the spring time, swollen to a torrent
By melting mountain snows, its waters roar.
A fearful sight! Yet one time from its current
That old horse brought me safely from the shore.
“Well, many a horse does that much for his master;”
True; but old Selim did much more for me;
In two ways there he saved me from disaster;
He saved my life and shaped my destiny.
Clouds of disgrace around me lowered horrent,
My feet were on the path that leads below,
The least of danger was the foaming torrent,
The greater was the one that bore to woe.

319

A wild young man, I led a life of riot;
My days were idle, drunken were my nights;
You'd scarcely think it now in one so quiet;
But I was hero in a dozen fights.
The good folk shunned me as a moral leper;
I was accounted of all bad the worst,
And kept there sinking deeper, deeper, deeper,
A being even to myself accurst.
Selim was then a colt, but broken newly,
Who stood without where I got drunk within,
And in my wandering ever served me truly—
Not his to know his master's shame and sin.
Less brute than I, he always safely bore me
Through storm and darkness to my lonely bed;
If I fell off, he patient waited for me—
Poor, faithful servant! often badly fed.
One night, near morning, Rocky Run was roaring
In wildest wrath, as by its banks we stood;
To cross was madness while that flood was pouring;
But liquor gave me a defiant mood.
The sober man may shrink, however fearless,
Where the foolhardy, half-crazed drunkard dares;
So, spurring Selim in that current cheerless,
I madly yelled: “We'll cross or drown—who cares?”
The cold plunge sobered me; and then the whirling,
Dark, furious stream we effort made to breast;
And Selim struggled till the torrent swirling
Had nearly borne us to the rapids' crest.
My senses left. But better horse or braver
Than Selim never perilled rider bore;
By his young vigor, under Heaven's good favor,
He gained firm footing on the shelving shore.

320

My senses came. The sun was shining brightly,
Glinting its slanting beams on bush and tree;
One foot of mine wedged in the stirrup tightly—
Had Selim ran!—he never stirred from me.
I rose and said: “My colt, I have a notion,
Your services good liquor should command;
You first, I next.” His hoof, with furious motion,
To fragments dashed the bottle in my hand.
Well, you may smile, sir, but on that May morning
A light shone in my soul which shines there still;
I had a lesson and I had a warning;
I never drank again, and never will.
He saved me both ways. Though not now I need him,
We two shall never part till one is cold—
Why, if 'twould pleasure him, on pearls I'd feed him,
Give him a bed of down and shoes of gold.