"
Jim pondered over the advice, and finally resolved to follow it. He
hoped to make his way in the world, and the more knowledge he could gain
the better.
A few days later saw him on his way westward, his heart bounding with
the exhilarating beauty of the scene. Already the life at home seemed
cramped; the wideness and freedom of this great new country intoxicated
him.
"Do we want a recruit? No, we don't!" said the sergeant at Regina, to
whom Jim applied. "Stay a bit, though; you needn't be in such a hurry.
Just out from the Old Country, I suppose. Do you know anything about
horses? Can you ride?"
"Yes," said Jim humbly.
"Let's try you," and the sergeant led the way into the riding-school.
"We call this one 'Brown Billy,'" he remarked, indicating a
quiet-looking horse. "Think you can sit on him?"
"I'll try," said Jim.
Riding Brown Billy seemed ridiculously easy at first. Suddenly, however,
without the slightest warning, Jim found himself gripping with his knees
the sides of an animal that was dancing wildly on its hind legs.
Jim caught a grin on the faces of the sergeant and some of the other
bystanders, and setting his teeth he held on grimly. This was evidently
a favourite trick of Brown Billy's, and the sergeant knew it. Well, they
should see that British grit was not to be beaten.
Seemingly conquered, Brown Billy dropped again on all-fours. Scarcely
had Jim begun to congratulate himself on his victory when Billy's head
went down between his forelegs, his hind-quarters rose, and Jim was
neatly deposited on hands and knees a few feet ahead.
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