Mistral

Mistral, like a huge, gray devil, charged Bister standing in the center of the corral. Flight could not save Bister; he folded his arms across his chest and waited. The stallion leaped at him as if to tear Bister apart with his teeth. Then, suddenly, he reared, in an angry attempt to batter his master to death with his mighty, iron- shod hoofs. But suddenly the shadow that had fallen on Bister's soul dropped away and the sun blinded his eyes. Mistral had swerved to the side at the last moment and, in one bound, reached the farther side of the corral. He stared at the man, his great head raised high. Bister stood still, and as he spoke his voice trembled with emotion and excitement. "you can dodge me and kick at my shadow or lay back your ears, but I've got you, Mistral. And I'm going to ride you before the week's out. So help me!"