For the next few minutes Shasta was at work， ver y cautiously to avoid jingling， while the Horse said things like， “Get that girth a bit tighter” or “You’ll find a buckle lower down “ or “You‘ll need to shorten those stirrups a good bit.” When all was finished he said：
“Now； we’ve got to have reins for the look of the thing， but you won‘t be using them. Tie them to the saddle.bow： very slack so that I can do what I like with my head. And， remember.you are not to touch them.”
“What are they for， then？” asked Shasta.
“Ordinarily they are for directing me，” replied the Horse. “But as I intend to do all the directing on this journey， you’ll please keep your hands to yourself. And there‘s another thing. I’m not going to have you grabbing my mane.”
“But I say，” pleaded Shasta. “If I‘m not to hold on by thereins or by your mane， what am I to hold on by？”
“You hold on with your knees，” said the Horse. “That’s the secret of good riding. Grip my body between your knees as hard as you like； sit straight up， straight as a poker；keep your elbows in. And by the way， what did you do with the spurs？”
“Put them on my heels， of course，” said Shasta. “I do know that much.”
