still hung
round my neck served me for a bridle. I looked up at the bright stars,
and turned the horse's head towards the south. One thing only I could
resolve on--not to pull rein till I was beyond the reach of pursuit. I
soon found that I had got one of the best horses of the whole stud.

"Away I went galloping over the snow, fleet as the wind. I could not
conceal my trail; but if I had the best steed and an hour's start, I
might keep ahead of my pursuers, and fall in with some friendly tribe,
or by some other means obtain assistance before I was overtaken. My
horse was a noble animal. He had, I doubt not, been stolen not long
before from the whites, and he seemed glad to have a white man again on
his back. Poor beast! I did not spare him. Full fifty miles I went
without pulling rein. Then I threw myself off and turned his head to
the wind to let him regain his strength. But few minutes only I halted;
I either heard my pursuers or thought I heard them. Again I mounted and
galloped on as before. The noble brute seemed to know the importance of
haste. Oh, how willingly he went up steep hills, down wild valleys,
across streams, over the most rugged ground--nothing stopped him. We
came to a broad river. It was frozen over with a sheet of smooth ice,
from which the wind had blown the snow. Still on he went, slipping and
sliding. Several times I thought he would be down, and yet I dared not
check him; but he recovered himself and reached the opposite side in
safety. Sometimes we were almost buried in the snow.

"On the other side of the river we plunged into a deep snow-drift; but
he plunged on, and, planting his feet on firm ground, sprung upward
again, and on he went breasting the side of a steep hill. We gained the
summit. I looked back for an instant. I thought I could discern in the
far distance several black spots. I was sure that they were my
pursuers. On I went along the ridge of the mountain. It was stony and
free from snow, and I hoped that if my pursuers should discover my trail
across the ice they might possibly here lose it. This thought gave me
fresh courage. I came to the end of the ridge and descended into the
plain. My noble steed was becoming much distressed. Still I valued my
life more than his. As long as he could go I must make him go. On he
went. Full eighty miles had been passed over since dawn. Neither my
horse nor I had tasted food. Still I dared not stop. Across