nose.
Instead of the rope going over his horns, it got over this “spade” and around his muzzle. He swam like mad, pulling us without any apparent extra effort.
Arrived on shore, he began to fight the rope which naturally got slack as we came in and eventually he faced us, when the rope fell off.
If I had caught him by the horns or around the neck, we would have had an awful fight to subdue him, but I am quite sure Charlie would have tried to ride him.
It was at the East end of Clinton-Colden that
