I to-day must ride,
And cant'ring down to take my place
I saw full many an old friend's face
Come stealing to my side.

'Dead men on horses long since dead,
They clustered on the track;
The champions of the days long fled,
They moved around with noiseless tread --
Bay, chestnut, brown, and black.

'And one man on a big grey steed
Rode up and waved his hand;
Said he, "We help a friend in need,
And we have come to give a lead
To you and Rio Grande.

'"For you must give the field the slip,
So never draw the rein,
But keep him moving with the whip,
And if he falter -- set your lip
And rouse him up again.

'"But when you reach the big stone wall,
Put down your bridle hand
And let him sail -- he cannot fall --
But don't you interfere at all;
You trust old Rio Grande."

'We started, and in front we showed,
The big horse running free:
Right fearlessly and game he strode,
And by my side those dead men rode
Whom no one else could see.

'As silently as flies a bird,
They rode on either hand;
At every fence I plainly heard
The phantom leader give the word,
"Make room for Rio Grande!"

'I spurred him on to get the lead,
I chanced full many a fall;
But swifter still each phantom steed
Kept with me, and at racing speed
We reached the big stone wall.

'And there the phantoms on each side
Drew in and blocked his leap;
"Make room! make room!" I loudly cried,
But right in front they seemed to ride --
I cursed them in my sleep.

'He never flinched, he faced it game,
He struck it with his chest,
And every stone burst out in flame,
And Rio Grande and I became
As phantoms with the rest.

'And then I woke, and for a space
All nerveless did I seem;
For I have ridden many a race,
But never one at such a pace
As in that fearful dream.

'And I am sure as man can be
That out upon the track,
Those phantoms that men cannot see
Are waiting now to ride with me,
And I shall not come back.

'For I must ride the dead men's race,
And follow their command;
'Twere worse than death, the foul disgrace
If I should fear to take my place
To-day on Rio Grande.'

He mounted, and a jest he threw,
With never sign of gloom;
But all who heard the story knew
That Jack Macpherson, brave and true,
Was going to his doom.

They started, and the big black steed
C