The horses and riders tread softly through the peat bog at the top of a windswept Connemara mountain.

And the seal was opened, and lo the black horse that was Mortgage Famine trod the land.

But horses, even in battle, tread on human beings very much less than you would suppose.

My horse was treading among the fallen men.

For five miles further, the horses were still treading the station lands.

Our horses trod irregularly paved streets caked with dung and other refuse.

So we took our way, as best we knight, through the press, hearing oaths enough if our horses trod over near any man, and seeing daggers drawn.

A horse had trod there.

Before he was able to free himself, the horse trod his chest multiple times, breaking five ribs and causing other injuries.

The tracks where the horses had trod earlier that morning had turned to puddles.