There were plenty of fine horses in the stalls , but to the king 's astonishment Moti chose a poor little rat of a pony that was used to carry grass and water for the rest of the stable . ` But why do you choose that beast ? ' said the king . ` Well , you see , your majesty , ' replied Moti , ` there are so many chances that I may fall off , and if I choose one of your fine big horses I shall have so far to fall that I shall probably break my leg or my arm , if not my neck , but if I fall off this little beast I ca n't hurt myself much . ' A very comical sight was Moti when he rode out to the war . The only weapon he carried was his staff , and to help him to keep his balance on horseback he had tied to each of his ankles a big stone that nearly touched the ground as he sat astride the little pony . The rest of the king 's cavalry were not very numerous , but they pranced along in armour on fine horses . Behind them came a great rabble of men on foot armed with all sorts of weapons , and last of all was the king with his attendants , very nervous and ill at ease . So the army started . They had not very far to go , but Moti 's little pony , weighted with a heavy man and two big rocks , soon began to lag behind the cavalry , and would have lagged behind the infantry too , only they were not very anxious to be too early in the fight , and hung back so as to give Moti plenty of time . The young man jogged along more and more slowly for some time , until at last , getting impatient at the slowness of the pony , he gave him such a tremendous thwack with his staff that the pony completely lost his temper and bolted . First one stone became untied and rolled away in a cloud of dust to one side of the road , whilst Moti nearly rolled off too , but clasped his steed valiantly by its ragged mane , and , dropping his staff , held on for dear life . Then , fortunately the other rock broke away from his other leg and rolled thunderously down a neighbouring ravine . Meanwhile the advanced cavalry had barely time to draw to one side when Moti came dashing by , yelling bloodthirsty threats to his pony : ` You wait till I get hold of you ! I 'll skin you alive ! I 'll wring your neck ! I 'll break every bone in your body ! ' The cavalry thought that this dreadful language was meant for the enemy , and were filled with admiration of his courage . Many of their horses too were quite upset by this whirlwind that galloped howling through their midst , and in a few minutes , after a little plunging and rearing and kicking , the whole troop were following on Moti 's heels . Far in advance , Moti continued his wild career .
Presently XXXXX his course he came to a great field of castor-oil plants , ten or twelve feet high , big and bushy , but quite green and soft .
Behind So down for from if in of through with