“No, but I do!” whinnied another. “Don’t you remember, Stamper,” he said to the horse in the stall next to him, “on the last voyage this boat was loaded with hay and grain? Some of that must be left around in the corners of the hold. That is what Lightfoot smells so plainly.”
“So it is,” said the first horse. Then he called: “Lightfoot, look and smell all around you. Maybe you will find some wisps of hay or some little piles of grain in the dark corners of the hold where you are. If you do find them, eat them.”
Then he began to walk around in the big hollow part of the canal boat, sniffing here and there in corners and cracks for something to eat. He could smell hay very plainly, and as he went toward a corner, in which some boards were piled, the smell was very much stronger. Then, all of a sudden, Lightfoot found what he was looking for.
“Oh, here’s a nice pile of hay!” he called, and the horses in their stalls heard him.
“That’s good,” one of them said. “Now you will not be hungry any more, Lightfoot.”
“No, I guess I won’t,” said the goat. “At last, after I have had some bad luck, I am going to have some good.”
Then he began to eat the wisps of hay which had lodged in the corner of the canal boat when the cargo had been unloaded a few days before. There was hay enough for more goats than Lightfoot, but the men who unloaded the canal boat did not bother to sweep up the odds and ends, so the goat traveler had all he wanted.
After Lightfoot had eaten he felt sleepy, and, lulled by the pleasant and easy motion of the canal boat, he cuddled up in a corner near the horse-cabin, and, after telling his unseen friends what had happened to him, he went to sleep.
How long he slept Lightfoot did not know, but he was suddenly awakened by hearing a rumbling sound, like thunder.
“Hello! What’s this?” cried the goat, jumping up. “If it’s going to rain I had better look for some shelter.”
“Oh, it isn’t going to rain,” said a voice from the horse stable. “Those who have been pulling the boat are tired and are coming down the plank into their stalls. We are going out to take their places. It is our turn now.”
“Oh, I see,” returned Lightfoot. “But how do you horses get on shore? Do you swim across the canal?”