A RIDE WITH A MAD HORSE IN A CAR. 225 



with the same message. I parted company tlie 

 first hour out with all save one, an iron-gray stal- 

 lion of Messenger blood. Jack Murdock rode 

 him, who learned his horsemanship from buffalo 

 and Indian hunting on the Plains, — not a bad 

 school to graduate from. Ten miles out of Knox- 

 ville the gray, his flanks dripping with blood, 

 plunged up abreast the mare's shoulders and fell 

 dead ; and Qulnare and I passed through the lines 

 alone. / had ridden the terrible race without v'hip 

 or spur. With what scenes of blood and flight 

 she would ever be associated ! And then I thought 

 of home, unvisited for four long years, — that 

 home I left a stripling, but to which I w^as return- 

 ing a bronzed and brawny man. I thought of 

 mother and Bob, — how they would admire her ! — 

 of old Ben, the family groom, and of that one who 

 shall be nameless, wdiose picture I had so often 

 shown to Gulnare as the likeness of her future 

 mistress ; — had they not all heard of her, my 

 beautiful mare, she who came to me from the 

 smoke and whirlwind, my battle-gift ? How they 

 would pat her soft, smooth sides, and tie her mane 

 with ribbons, and feed her with all sweet things 

 from open and caressing palm ! And then I thought 

 of one who might come after her to bear her name 

 and repeat at least some portion of her beauty, — 

 a horse honored and renowned the country through, 

 because of the transmission of the mother's fame. 

 10* o 



