Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1873-09-20
The Dutch BOOr and His Horse.

When was a small boy and went to
school, too young to read, I heard a
thing read of horse that made both my
cheeks wet with hot tears. The man
who owned the horse lived in the Cape
of Good Hope, and was called Dutch
boor, or poor man of Dutch bloc odwho
was born on the soil of that hot land,
and titled it with the plough and hoe.
He was a kind man at heart, though
rough in look and speech. He loved
his mare and she loved him, and was
with him byday and near him by night.
She was proud to havelkim on her back,
and would dash through swamps, ponds
and fire, too, if he wished it.. But one
day came that was to prove the faith
and love of her stout heart and the soul
of the man. A great storm came down
on the sea. The waves roared and rose
as high as the hills. The white tops
foamed with rage at the winds, that
smote them with all their might The
clouds tapped them with black wings.
Night drew near, and it was scene to
make one quake with fear. Right in
the midst of all this rage and roar of
wind and sea great ship, with sails
rent and helm gone, came in sight, 1t
rode on the high, white waves, straight
on reef of rocks, too far from the
shore to reach it with rope. The ship
was full of young and old, whose, cries
for help could be heard, loud as was
the voice of the storm Their boats
were gone like the shells of eggs. There
was no wood, nor time to build raft
The waves leaped on the ship like great,
white wolves bent on their prey. How
could one soul of them be saved ? The
men on shore could not look on the sad
sight. They could give no help. They
had no boat nor raft, and their, hearts
were sick in them. Then the Dutch
boor was seen to. draw near at full speed
on his horse. Down he came to the
beach, nor did he stop there one breath
of time. He spoke word to her which
she knew, and with no touch of whip or
spur she dashed in and swan the sea to
the ships side with a rope tied to her
tail. She wheeled and stamped her way
on the white surge with a row of men to
the shore. There she stayed but for a
breath. At the soft word and touch she
knew SO we'll she turned and once more
ploughed through the surge to the ship
and brought back load of young and
old. Once more she stood on the beach
amidst tears of Joy that fell from all
eyes. She stood there weak, as wet
with sweat as with the sea. The night
fell down fast on the ship. There were
still few more left on it, and their
cries for help came on the wind to the
shore. The thoughts that tugged at the
brave mans heart will not be known in
this world. The cries from the ship
pierced it through and through. He
could not bear to hear them. He spoke
low, soft word to his horse He put
his hand to her neck, and seemed to ask
her if she could do it, She turned her
head to him with a look that meant,
" If you wish it I will try" He did
wish it, and she tried, to the last pulse
of her heart. She walked straight out
into the wild sea. All on shore held
their breath at the sight. She was weak
but brave. Now and then, the white
surge buried her head then she rose
and shook the brine out of her eyes.
Foot by foot she neared the ship Now
the last man had caught the rope. Once
more she turned her head to the beach.
Shouts and prayers came from it to
keep up her strength. The tug was for
life she loved more than her own. She
broke her veins for it half way tween
ship and shore. She could lift her feet
no more. Her name lay like black sea-
weed on the waves while she tried to
catch one more breath. Then, with q
groan, she went down with all the load
she bore, and a wall went out from the
land for the loss of life that had saved
from death near a ships crew of men.
Thus dared and died in the sea the
brave Dutch boor and his horse. They
were, as friends, one in life, one in
death ; and both might well have place
and rank with the best lives and deaths
we read of in books for young or old. "