Five years ago, I was a trail ride leader at a holiday farm in Victoria. My favourite horse was a warmblooded called Holly, a chestnut mare. Aged seven, she was1 , sweet-natured and well-trained; the only 2 with Holly was her vivid imagination. I was constantly surprised by Holly's ability to be3 by rabbits, the wind or even shadows - sometimes her own shadow!
One day, as we headed back from a ride on the beach, Holly and I were4 the way over the hilly area. When we got to one particularly long, steep hill, Holly began to twitch(抽动) her ears and step in place. So, when she5 to sniff(嗅) and give all the6 that she believed the ‘horse-eating monsters' were close, I became a little worried.
At the bottom of the hill as we rounded a corner, Holly7 with caution, and so l followed her gaze to the path ahead. There, sunning itself in the middle of the track， was a brown8 This time it was my9 to get scared; I was on a nervous horse, leading a group of eight inexperienced pre-teen riders. Unexpectedly, Holly was firmly10 , ears forward. With the snake in her sight, she was no longer worried.
I have heard that horses have a better sense of11 than dogs. I hadn't seen it12 before that moment13 while we waited in reality for just a second or two - but for what felt like a century -the snake awoke and glided calmly off into the bush.
Holly then14 , leading the horses with caution and care. She had been alert to danger and had been 15 for the safety of us all. Following in the footsteps or their lead mare, not one of the other horses showed any fear.
