From that time we were his masters; my sons mounted him one after another; they gave him the name of Lightfoot, and never animal deserved his name better.

As a precaution, we kept the cords on his legs for some time; and as he never would submit to the bit, we used a snaffle, by which we obtained power over his head, guiding him by a stick, with which we struck the right or left ear, as we wished him to go.
During this time, our poultry-yard was increased by three broods of chickens.

We had at least forty of these little creatures chirping and pecking about, the pride of their good mistress's heart.

Part of these were kept at home, to supply the table, and part she allowed to colonize in the woods, where we could find them when we wanted them.

"These," she said, "are of more use than your monkeys, jackals, and eagles, who do nothing but eat, and would not be worth eating themselves, if we were in need." However, she allowed there was some use in the buffalo, who carried burdens, and Lightfoot, who carried her sons so well.