1 There now, Zikin, they ought to put you on a horse.
2 Rostov rode up to it and saw Telyanin's horse at the porch.
3 "I want to teach this young man how to shoe a horse," said Telyanin.
4 Rostov patted the horse's neck and then his flank, and lingered for a moment.
5 With great difficulty he managed to get to his horse, and shouting continually he moved on.
6 After him the stout Nesvitski came galloping up on a Cossack horse that could scarcely carry his weight.
7 At that moment, on the road from the town on which signalers had been posted, two men appeared on horse back.
8 Halfway across stood Prince Nesvitski, who had alighted from his horse and whose big body was jammed against the railings.
9 The headquarters were situated two miles away from Salzeneck, and Rostov, without returning home, took a horse and rode there.
10 Another hussar also rushed toward the horse, but Bondarenko had already thrown the reins of the snaffle bridle over the horse's head.
11 He called the Cossack with his horse, told him to put away the knapsack and flask, and swung his heavy person easily into the saddle.
12 "Oh, he's all right, a good horse," answered Rostov, though the horse for which he had paid seven hundred rubbles was not worth half that sum.
13 The turrets of a convent stood out beyond a wild virgin pine forest, and far away on the other side of the Enns the enemy's horse patrols could be discerned.
14 Zherkov touched his horse with the spurs; it pranced excitedly from foot to foot uncertain with which to start, then settled down, galloped past the company, and overtook the carriage, still keeping time to the song.
15 The regimental commander, flushing, ran to his horse, seized the stirrup with trembling hands, threw his body across the saddle, righted himself, drew his saber, and with a happy and resolute countenance, opening his mouth awry, prepared to shout.
16 Rostov in his cadet uniform, with a jerk to his horse, rode up to the porch, swung his leg over the saddle with a supple youthful movement, stood for a moment in the stirrup as if loathe to part from his horse, and at last sprang down and called to his orderly.
17 With his shaggy head thrown back like birds when they drink, pressing his spurs mercilessly into the sides of his good horse, Bedouin, and sitting as though falling backwards in the saddle, he galloped to the other flank of the squadron and shouted in a hoarse voice to the men to look to their pistols.
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