WITH THE BLUECOATS ON THE BORDER. 



IDE! on through the rush of the rain 

 comins: down in sheets from the 

 unbroken gray of the sky ; on over 

 the dreary desolation of the prairie, 

 now splashing through wide pools 

 of water, now floundering ankle- 

 deep through the thick, tenacious 

 mud of the wide trail, not a living 

 creature in sight, nothing but the 

 brown grass of the plains stretch- 

 ing for miles to the misty horizon. 

 Ride ! down the slippery sides of 

 the " coulees," through the foaming 

 waters of the streams swirling and 

 rushing along in yellow torrents. 

 Up, good horses, up the steep banks, slipping and stumbling 

 over rain -loosened stones; on over the prairie again. Ride! 

 on towards the solitary ranch just looming through the mist 

 away beyond there, the water streaming from our oil-skins, 

 dripping from our soft, wide -brimmed hats, and running down 

 the flanks of our tired horses. Ride ! on up to the wide- 

 open door of the rough mud-roofed cabin, its two lonely in- 



