People began to turn around, and a few seconds later, a huge dark brown horse burst into the cemetery at full speed, charging through the entrance.
It was Thunder, the farmer’s favorite horse, with whom he had spent nearly fifteen years.
The animal looked strange. His eyes were wide open, his nostrils flared forcefully, and his wet mane clung to his neck.
He ran so fast that dirt flew beneath his hooves. Several men immediately ran toward him and tried to grab him by the reins, but Thunder violently shook his head, broke free, and let out a whinny so loud that a chill ran through everyone present.
“Get him out of here!” someone shouted from the crowd. But the horse obeyed no one.
Suddenly, he stopped right beside the coffin and began acting in an even stranger manner.
First, Thunder started walking in circles around the casket, breathing heavily and constantly sniffing the lid.
Then, suddenly, he struck the wood with one of his hooves. A dull thud echoed throughout the entire cemetery.
People shuddered. “He’s gone mad with grief,” one of the women whispered.
But Thunder struck the lid again. And again. And again. With every blow, the horse grew more agitated.
He snorted anxiously, tossed his head, and hit the wood with such force that the men desperately began trying to pull him away.
