HOW NOT TO GO. 135 



Just then he turned his horse, a beautiful black 

 colt, out from the road, rode up to the door of a 

 cottage some little distance off, exchanged a few 

 words with a couple of girls, turned, and passed 

 down the road before us on a rapid canter, and was 

 soon lost to our sight. 



It seemed hard to believe the evidence of our 

 senses ; but, after all, it was only another illustra- 

 tion of the acuteness acquired by the remaining 

 senses, when one or more are lost. 



I suggested to the driver that his horse must 

 know him, and be strongly attached to him. 



" Know him," he replied : " I guess he does ; that 

 hoss knows he's blind just as well as I do." 



And perhaps he did. 



Thankful and happy were we when just at dusk 

 we stepped from our "stage" upon the piazza of 

 the hotel, and were met by our Indian guide, whose 

 greeting was cordial and welcome : 



" Here at last, Tomah." 



