I ran a few steps towards the approaching horse.  His head was high in the air, and the vehicle swayed from side to side.  It was a tall affair with two wheels, and on the high seat sat a lady vainly tugging at the reins.  My heart sank.  What dreadful thing had I done!

I stood in the middle of the road.  It seemed but a few seconds before the horse was upon me.  He swerved to one side, but I was ready for that.  I dashed at his bridle, but caught the end of his cumbrous bit in my right hand.  I leaned forward with all the strength that dwelt in my muscles and nerves.  The horse’s glaring eye was over my face, and I felt the round end of a shaft rise up under my arm.  A pair of outstretched forelegs slid past me.  I saw the end of a banged tail switching in the dust.  The horse was on his haunches.  He was stopped.

Before I had time to recover an erect attitude and to let up the horse the occupant of the vehicle was on the ground She had skipped down with wonderful alacrity on the side opposite to me, and was coming round by the back of the cart.  The horse was now standing on his four legs, trembling in every fibre, and with eyes that were still wild and staring.  Holding him firmly, I faced the lady as she stopped near me.  She was a young woman in a jaunty summer costume and a round straw hat.  She did not seem to be quite mistress of herself; she was not pale, but perhaps that was because her face was somewhat browned by the sun, but her step was not steady, and she breathed hard.  Under ordinary circumstances she would have been assisted to the side of the road, where she might sit down and recover herself, and have water brought to her.  But I could do nothing of that sort.  I could not leave that shivering horse.

[Illustration:  “He was running away”]

“Are you hurt?” I asked.

“Oh no,” she said, “but I am shaken up a bit.  I cannot tell you how grateful I am!  I don’t believe I ever can tell you!”

“Do not speak of that.”  I said, quickly.  “Perhaps you would feel better if you were to sit down somewhere.”

“Oh, I don’t want to sit down,” said she.  “I am so glad to have my feet on the solid earth again that that is enough for me.  It was a bear that frightened him—­a bear lying down by the side of the road a little way back.  He never ran away before, but when he saw that bear he gave a great shy and a bolt, and he was off.  I just got a glimpse of the beast.”

I was very anxious to change the conversation, and suggested that I lead the horse into the shade, for the sun was blazing down upon us.  The horse submitted to be led to the side of the road, but he was very nervous, and looked everywhere for the approach of shaggy bears.

“It is perfectly dreadful,” she said, when she again approached me, “for people to leave bears about in that way.  I suppose he was fastened, for it could not have been a wild beast.  They do not lie down by the side of the road.  I do not say that I was rattled, but I expected every second that there would be a smash, and there would have been if it had not been for—­”