CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Life Gets Even Tougher
And now my life was to sink to one of its lowest points. My new owner was a highly unforgettable man, named Nick Skinner. He looked very unfriendly, with his black eyes and long, pointy nose; and when he spoke his voice sounded like a stick being dragged across a bed of rocks.
Every cab he owned was in terrible condition, and every cabman he employed was a terrible driver. He worked us seven days each week. Needless to say, the drivers were very unhappy and they treated the horses as badly as the owner treated them.
My driver liked to use a whip with a metal end. This was so painful, and my back was often covered in blood when I returned to the stable at the end of a day's work. Even so, I always worked as hard as I could, always thinking how true Ginger's words were when she said that all men are our masters.
Things had become so terrible for me, that, for the first time in my life, I had begun to wish that I were dead. And, to my surprise, my wish one day almost came true.
It was almost the end of a typically long workday. I was feeling very tired and weak, as I always did at the end of the day, when we were requested to drive a man to the train station. Once there, and the passenger dropped off, we got in the long line of cabs waiting for the next group of arriving train passengers. Soon they came and the long line, quickly shortened and we were approached by a family of four with a large number of travel bags. While my driver and the man of the family loaded the bags, the young girl came around to look at me. After a few moments, she yelled to her father, "Daddy, this horse is too tired to carry the four of us and our bags all together."
"He'll be fine, young lady," my driver assured her. "He's quite strong."
A train station worker who had begun to help with the bags suggested that the family take two cabs.
"Look, can the horse pull the cab or not?" Asked the father impatiently.
"Of course he can, sir," my driver promised, as he threw the last of the bags onto the cab. This last bag was so heavy, I could feel the whole cab lower a few inches.
The little girl begged her father to do as the station worker had suggested, but he would not listen and insisted that she get into the cab.
The little girl had to do what her father told her, so she slowly climbed in next to her brother. The cab was so crowded with bags, the driver had almost nowhere to sit. He spent a few moments trying to clear a small area for himself, before he finally whipped me to move forward.
From the beginning I had no idea how far I would get pulling this terribly overloaded vehicle. At every moment I felt capable of falling to the ground from weakness. I somehow managed to pull the family to Ludgate Hill, but when we reached the top, I lost all control of my legs and fell heavily to the ground. I let out a terrible cry as soon as I hit and for a few seconds I did not think I would ever breathe again.
"Oh my God! What did I tell you people? I knew it was too much for him!" Shouted the little girl as she jumped out of the cab.
I really believed I was dying, and I was hardly aware of what was happening all around me. I seem to remember the reins being untied and cold water being poured over me. I was not sure how long I lay there on the ground, but I managed to get back on my feet. Then I was taken to the closest stables they could find and was given some food and allowed to rest.
Later, at Skinner's stables, I was examined by a doctor.
"This horse cannot continue to work as hard as you're making him," he said to Skinner. "I suggest you give him a half-year's rest in a field somewhere, and then he'll be ready to work again."
"I don't have the time, money or the fields to do such a thing. My horses work until they can work no more. Then I sell them for as much as I can get to anyone who'll take them."
"Well, then, if that's how it will be, you could sell him at the horse sale next week. He's still pretty healthy. If you take excellent care of him from now until the sale, I'm sure you'll be able to sell him for more money than you would get from the meat market."
When I was taken to the horse sale outside of the city, I did not fear it as much as I had in the past, because I knew that anything would be better than staying at Skinner's stables.
(end of section)