e in the enemy's country, where, 'tis
said, the faster your horse travels the less likelihood there is of
being shot by guerrillas. In the course of the afternoon we visited
several houses, at one of which quite a quantity of contraband stuff
was found, _which was placed in our canteens_.

At dusk we commenced a homeward tramp; and having to pass a house in
which I had previously enjoyed the hospitality of its inmates, I
alighted to refresh myself with a cool drink of water, the balance of
the party going on. I had but just mounted my horse, when he took
fright, and in a moment he was beyond control. Your humble servant
clung with tenacity to the brute, and although I told him to "whoa,"
he wouldn't do it. Now he takes a by-road; away he flies with
lightning speed; 'tis getting dark, and the _fool horse_ is running
further and further from camp. I tried kicking the animal so as to
induce him to believe that it was me that was forcing him to his
utmost speed, but 't was no go. Then, as I came near falling, I
"_affectionately_" threw my arms around his neck, thinking, if life
was spared, what a fine item this runaway would make. In vain I tried
kicks, seesawing, jerks, coaxing, whoaing; in despair, I gave a loose
hold of the reins to the runaway, hoping he would get tired,
endeavoring, however, to keep him in the middle of the road. He jumped
ditches, turned curves, until I began to think I would make a good
circus performer, and eventually hire out to John Robinson, if safely
delivered from this perilous expedition. At last he took me off my
guard: turning abruptly to the left on a by-road, your correspondent
went to the right, heels up in the air for a brief space--in fact, a
balloon ascension; the balloon's burst was the next vivid thing in my
mind, for I remembered scratching in the air, and then an almost
instantaneous collision with mother Earth, alighting upon the right
side of my head, from which the blood gushed in a slight attempt at a
deluge. As luck would have it, some friendly folks came to my rescue,
and bathed my head with camphor; I remounted, and, in a few minutes,
met my companions, who were in search for me. They wet my lips with
some of that stuff in the canteens. On arriving at camp, and sending
for a surgeon, my wounds were dressed. A broken bone in my right hand,
a terrific black eye and disfigured forehead, a sprained leg and
battered side were the result of my excursion. This is the first
letter