Kidnapper took him for a nice lope along a pebbly beach and then somewhat 
abruptly bounded up a slope, for that purpose switching into a gait never used 
by any real horse. Its legs shortened, and it clawed its way surefootedly up 
the forty-five-degree surface like a mountain lion. An alarmingly quick zigzag 
through a stand of firs brought them into an open grassy area. Then Kidnapper 
slowed to a mere walk, as if it were a real horse that had to be cooled down 
gradually, and took Hackworth into a semicircle of old totem poles.