were
thin enough, but he never had one that looked like this. Her head was
like the head of a skeleton, and her eyes had such a famished look, that
I turned away, sick at heart, to think that she had suffered so.

When the cow lay down, the moaning noise stopped, for she had been
making it. Miss Laura ran outdoors, snatched a handful of grass and took
it in to her. The cow ate it gratefully, but slowly, for her strength
seemed all gone.

Miss Laura then went into the other stall to see if there was
any creature there. There had been a horse. There was now a lean,
gaunt-looking animal lying on the ground, that seemed as if he was dead.
There was a heavy rope knotted around his neck, and fastened to his
empty rack. Miss Laura stepped carefully between his feet, cut the
rope and going outside the stall spoke kindly to him. He moved his ears
slightly, raised his head, tried to get up, fell back again, tried
again and succeeded in staggering outdoors after Miss Laura, who kept
encouraging him, and then he fell down on the grass.

Fleetfoot stared at the miserable-looking creature as if he did not know
what it was. The horse had no sores on his body, as the cow had, nor was
he quite so lean: but he was the weakest, most distressed-looking animal
that I ever saw. The flies settled on him, and Miss Laura had to keep
driving them away. He was a white horse, with some kind of pale-colored
eyes, and whenever he turned them on Miss Laura, she would look away.
She did not cry, as she often did over the sick and suffering animals.
This seemed too bad for tears. She just hovered over that poor horse
with her face as white as her dress, and an expression of fright in her
eyes. Oh, how dirty he was! I would never have imagined that a horse
could get in such a condition.

All this had only taken a few minutes, and just after she got the horse
out, Mr. Harry appeared. He came out of the house with a slow step, that
quickened to a run when he saw Miss Laura "Laura!" he exclaimed,
"what are you doing?" Then he stopped and looked at the horse, not
in amazement, but very sorrowfully. "Barron is gone," he said, and
crumpling up a piece of paper, he put it in his pocket. "What is to be
done to these animals? There is a cow, isn't there?"

He stepped to the door of the log hut, glanced in, and said, quickly:
"Do you feel able to drive home?"

"Yes," said Miss Laura.

"Sure?" and he eyed her anxiously.

"Yes, yes," she returned; "what