One day in autumn, Squire Gordon went on a long journey. John went with him and I pulled the cart(马车). The weather was rainy and windy, but we travelled happily until we came to the old wooden bridge.
The man at the tollgate(收费处) told us the river was rising fast. " There's going to be a bad storm tonight," he said.
We arrived in the town, but Squire Gordon's business took a long time. We didn't leave until late afternoon. The wind was blowing, making a terrible sound.
Suddenly, we heard a crack, and a huge tree fell across the road in front of us. I stopped still. I was shaking with fear, but did not turn round or run away.
"We must go back to the crossroads," said John, "and drive six miles to the wooden bridge."
When we got there, it was nearly dark. There was water on the middle of the bridge, but the Squire did not stop. As soon as my feet touched the bridge, I knew that something was wrong. I stopped dead. "Go on, Beauty," said the Squire.
"There's something wrong, sir," said John. He got out and tried to lead me forward.
"Come on, Beauty," he said. But I knew that the bridge was not safe.
Just then the man at the tollgate saw us. "Hey, there! Stop!" he cried.
"What is it?" shouted the Squire.
"The bridge is broken in the middle," he answered. "If you go on to it, you are all going to drown in the river."
"Thank God!" said the Squire. "Thank you, Beauty!" said John. We turned around and went along the road by the river. For a long time, no one said anything. Then John said, "Black Beauty saved our lives. He knew the bridge was dangerous."
When we returned home, the Squire told Mrs. Gordon, "We are all safe, thanks to Black Beauty!"
That night, I had good food to eat and a comfortable bed of straw. And I was glad, though I was very tired.
