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 Knoxville
the gray, his flanks dripping with blood, plunged up abreast of the
mare's shoulders and fell dead; and Gulnare and I passed through the
lines alone. _I had ridden the terrible race without whip 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 was returning 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, whose 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.

"About three o'clock in the afternoon a change came over Gulnare. I had
fallen asleep upon the straw, and she had come and awakened me with a
touch of her nose. The moment I started up I saw that something was the
matter. Her eyes were dull and heavy. Never before had I seen the light
go out of them. The rocking of the car as it went jumping and vibrating
along seemed to irritate her. She began to rub her head against the side
of the car. Touching it, I found that the skin over the brain was hot
as fire. Her breathing grew rapidly louder and louder. Each breath was
drawn with a kind of gasping effort. The lids with their silken fringe
dropped wearily over the lustreless eyes. The head sank lower and lower,
until the nose almost touched the floor. The ears, naturally so lively
and erect, hung limp and widely apart. The body was cold and senseless.
A pinch elicited no motion. Even my voice was at last unheeded. To word
and touch there came, for the first time in all our intercourse, no
response. I knew as the symptoms spread what was the matter. The
signs bore all one way. She was in the first stages of phrenitis, or
inflammation of the brain. In other words, _my beautiful mare mas going
mad_.