or
the roomy box-stall, filled with clean straw, which Pasha always had at
Gray Oaks, but it was as good as any provided for the Black Horse
Cavalry.

And how many, many horses there were! As far as Pasha could see in
either direction the line extended. Never before had he seen so many
horses at one time. And men! The fields and woods were full of them;
some in brown butternut, some in homespun gray, and many in clothes
having no uniformity of color at all. "Mars" Clayton was dressed better
than most, for on his butternut coat were shiny shoulder-straps, and it
was closed with shiny buttons. Pasha took little pride in this. He knew
his master for a cruel and heartless rider, and for nothing more.

One day there was a great parade, when Pasha was carefully groomed for
the first time in months. There were bands playing and flags flying.
Pasha, forgetful of his ill-treatment and prancing proudly at the head
of a squadron of coal-black horses, passed in review before a big,
bearded man wearing a slouch hat fantastically decorated with long
plumes and sitting a great black horse in the midst of a little knot of
officers.

Early the next morning Pasha was awakened by the distant growl of heavy
guns. By daylight he was on the move, thousands of other horses with
him. Nearer and nearer they rode to the place where the guns were
growling. Sometimes they were on roads, sometimes they crossed fields,
and again they plunged into the woods where the low branches struck
one's eyes and scratched one's flanks. At last they broke clear of the
trees to come suddenly upon such a scene as Pasha had never before
witnessed.

Far across the open field he could see troop on troop of horses coming
toward him. They seemed to be pouring over the crest of a low hill, as
if driven onward by some unseen force behind. Instantly Pasha heard,
rising from the throats of thousands of riders, on either side and
behind him, that fierce, wild yell which he had come to know meant the
approach of trouble. High and shrill and menacing it rang as it was
taken up and repeated by those in the rear. Next the bugles began to
sound, and in quick obedience the horses formed in line just on the
edge of the woods, a line which stretched and stretched on either flank
until one could hardly see where it ended.

From the distant line came no answering cry, but Pasha could hear the
bugles blowing and he could see the fronts massing. Then came the order
to charge at