e chill in my marrow. I leaned over the neck of
the great bay horse, and called to him and cheered him on. Then I saw
he was deaf and blind to me, for he was wild. He had the bit between his
teeth, and was running away.

The roar behind us relentlessly pursuing, only a little less appalling,
was now not my only source of peril. Target could no more be guided
nor stopped than could the forest fire. The trail grew more winding and
overhung more thickly by pine branches. The horse did not swerve an inch
for tree or thicket, but ran as if free, and the saving of my life began
to be a matter of dodging. Once a crashing blow from a branch almost
knocked me from the saddle. The wind in my ears half drowned the roar
behind me. With hands twisted in Target's mane I bent low, watching with
keen eyes for the trees and branches ahead. I drew up my knees and
bent my body, and dodged and went down flat over the pommel like a
wild-riding Indian. Target kept that straining run for a longer distance
than I could judge. With the same breakneck speed he thundered on over
logs and little washes, through the thick, bordering bushes, and around
the sudden turns. His foam moistened my face and flecked my sleeves. The
wind came stinging into my face, the heavy roar followed at my back with
its menace.

Swift and terrible as the forest fire was, Target was winning the race.
I knew it. Steadily the roar softened, but it did not die away. Pound!
pound! pound! The big bay charged up the trail. How long could he stand
that killing pace? I began to talk soothingly to him, to pull on the
bridle; but he might have been an avalanche for all he heeded. Still
I kept at him, fighting him every moment that I was free from low
branches. Gradually the strain began to tell.

The sight of a cabin brought back to my mind the meaning of the wild
race with fire. I had forgotten the prisoners. I had reached the forest
glade and the cabin, but Target was still going hard. What if I could
not stop him! Summoning all my strength, I quickly threw weight and
muscle back on the reins and snapped the bit out of his teeth. Then
coaxing, commanding, I pulled him back. In the glade were four horses,
standing bunched with heads and ears up, uneasy, and beginning to be
frightened. Perhaps the sight of them helped me to stop Target; at
any rate, he slackened his pace and halted. He was spotted with foam,
dripping wet, and his broad sides heaved.

I jumped off, stiff and cr