udly as I dared. They went on, never slacking pace. It was a
bad go, for I was burning for news of D'ri and the rest of them.
Now I could hear some heavy animal bounding in the brush as if
their running had startled him. I went back to the corn for
another stand. Suddenly a horse came up near me, cropping the
brush. I saw he was one off the boat, for he had bridle and
saddle, a rein hanging in two strings, and was badly cut. My
friend! the sight of a horse did warm me to the toes. He got a
taste of the tender corn presently, and came toward me as he ate.
In a moment I jumped to the saddle, and he went away leaping like a
wild deer. He could not have been more frightened if I had dropped
on him out of the sky. I never saw such energy in flesh and blood
before. He took a mighty fright as my hand went to his withers,
but the other had a grip on the pommel, and I made the stirrups. I
leaned for the strings of the rein, but his neck was long, and I
could not reach them. Before I knew it we were tearing over the
hill at a merry pace, I can tell you. I was never so put to it for
the right thing to do, but I clung on. The big hat shook down upon
my collar. In all my life I never saw a hat so big. Through the
break in it I could see a farm-house. In a jiffy the horse had
cleared a fence, and was running, with the feet of terror, in a
dusty road. I grew angry at myself as we tore along--I knew not
why. It was a rage of discomfort, I fancy, for somehow, I never
felt so bound and cluttered, so up in the air and out of place in
my body. The sabre was working loose and hammering my knee; the
big hat was rubbing my nose, the straw chafing my chin. I had
something under my arm that would sway and whack the side of the
horse every leap he made. I bore upon it hard, as if it were the
jewel of my soul. I wondered why, and what it might be. In a
moment the big hole of my hat came into conjunction with my right
eye. On my word, it was the stake! How it came there I have never
known, but, for some reason, I held to it. I looked neither to
right nor left, but sat erect, one hand on the hilt of my sabre,
the other in the mane of my horse, knowing full well I was the most
hideous-looking creature in the world. If I had come to the gate
of heaven I believe St. Peter would have dropped his keys. The
straw worked up, and a great wad of it hung under my chin like a
bushy beard. I would have given anything for a sight o