Erewhon Revisited by Samuel Butler

My father could walk but slowly, for George's boots had blistered his feet, and it seemed to him that the riverbed, of which he caught glimpses now and again, never got any nearer; but all things come to an end, and by seven o'clock on the night of Tuesday, he was on the spot which he had left on the preceding Friday morning. Three entire days had intervened, but he felt that something, he knew not what, had seized him, and that whereas before these three days life had been one thing, what little might follow them, would be another -- and a very different one.

He soon caught sight of his horse which had strayed a mile lower down the riverbed, and in spite of his hobbles had crossed one ugly stream that my father dared not ford on foot. Tired though he was, he went after him, bridle in hand, and when the friendly creature saw him, it recrossed the stream, and came to him of its own accord -- either tired of his own company, or tempted by some bread my father held out towards him. My father took off the hobbles, and rode him barebacked to the camping ground, where he rewarded him with more bread and biscuit, and then hobbled him again for the night.