on. There is a gopher hole — that 

 means a broken leg for him, a clavicle 

 and a few ribs for me. No; on we go. 

 Ah, that stony brook ahead we soon 

 must cross ! Ye gods, so young and so 

 fair ! To perish thus, the toy of a raw- 

 boned Great Goer ! 



Pound, pound, pound, the hard road 

 rang with the thunder of hoofs. Could 

 I endure it longer? Oh, there is the 

 stream — surely he will stop. No I He 

 is going to jump ! It's an awful dis- 

 tance I With a frantic effort I got my 

 feet in the stirrups. He gathered him- 

 self together. I shut my eyes. Oh I 

 We missed the bank and landed in the 

 water — an awful mess. But the Great 

 Goer scrambled out, with me still on 

 top somehow, and started on. I pulled 

 on the reins again with every muscle, 

 trying to break his pace, or his neck — 



