A RIDE WITH A MAD HORSE IN A CAR. 231 



sight before me, and at the thought of agonies yet 

 to come. ' My God,' I exclaimed, ' must I be killed 

 by my own horse in this miserable car ! ' Even as 

 I spoke, the end came. The mare raised herself 

 until her shoulders touched the roof, then dashed 

 her body upon the floor with a violence wliich 

 threatened the stout frame beneath her. I leaned, 

 panting and exhausted, against the side of the car. 

 Gulnare did not stir. She lay motionless, her 

 breath coming and going in lessening respirations. 

 I tottered toward her, and, as I stood above her, 

 my ear detected a low, gurgling sound. I cannot 

 describe the feeling that followed. Joy and grief 

 contended within me. I knew the meaning of 

 that sound. Gulnare, in her frenzied violence, 

 had broken a blood-vessel, and was bleeding inter- 

 nally. Pain and life were passing away together. 

 I knelt down by her side. I laid my head upon 

 her shoulders, and sobbed aloud. Her body moved 

 a little beneath me. I crawled forward and lifted 

 her beautiful head into my lap. 0, for one more 

 sign of recognition before she died ! I smoothed 

 the tangled masses of her mane. I wiped, with 

 a fragment of my coat, torn in the struggle, the 

 blood which oozed from her nostril. I called her 

 by name. My desire was granted. In a moment 

 Gulnare opened her eyes. The redness of frenzy 

 had passed out of them. She saw and recognized 

 me. I spoke again. Her eye lighted a moment 



