Another voice answered: "They'll mill around every night for a while till they get used to the new place.
That's the way with them crazy hot-bloods.

No hoss-sense." The voices departed.

The shrinking of the stallion had made the mares wince away in turn, but they came back now and resumed the conversation where it had been broken off.

He was careful to introduce himself to each one.

He was greatly tempted to jump the fence and talk to them at closer hand but he knew that it was great folly to risk his neck in a group of mares before he had made out whether or not they were amiable.
If they were cross-tempered he might be kicked to death before he could escape.
The investigations brought entirely favorable returns.