It is one of the most
horrible positions that the mind can well imagine, to contemplate
being dragged by a horse. I have been dragged before now, and only
escaped by miracles on each occasion. In this case, Diaway, finding me
attached to him, commenced to lash out his newly shod heels at me,
bounding away at the same time into a dense thicket of scrub close by.
Mr. Tietkens and the others seeing the accident came running up
behind, as Diaway and I were departing. Fortunately I was not dragged
far, but was literally kicked free from and by, the frightened and
uncontrolled animal. The continual kickings I received--some on my
legs and body, but mostly upon that portion of the frame which it is
considered equally indecorous to present either to a friend or an
enemy--at length bent one or two of the nail-heads which held me, and,
tearing the upper leather off my boot, which fortunately was old,
ripped it off, leaving me at length free. As I lay on my excoriated
back, I saw Diaway depart without me into the scrub, with feelings of
the most profound delight, although my transports were considerably
lessened by the agonising sensations I experienced. Mr. Tietkens
helped me to hobble over to the camp in a most disorganised state,
though thanking Providence for so fortunate an escape.
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