ve. On, Moro! on!

On we glide in silence. The steed has ceased to utter his taunting
neigh; he has lost confidence in his speed; he now runs in dread. Never
before has he been so sorely pressed. He runs in silence, and so, too,
his pursuer. Not a sound is heard but the stroke of the galloping
hoofs--an impressive silence, that betokens the earnestness of the
chase.

Less than two hundred yards separate us; I feel certain of victory. A
touch of the spur would now bring Moro within range: it is time to put
an end to this desperate ride. Now, brave Moro, another stretch, and
you shall have rest!

I look to my lazo; it hangs coiled over the horn of my saddle: one end
is fast to a ring and staple firmly riveted in the tree-wood. Is the
loop clear and free? It is. The coil--is it straight? Yes; all as it
should be.

I lift the coil, and rest it lightly over my bridle arm; I separate the
noose, and hold it in my right hand. I am ready--_God of heaven! the
steed_?

It was a wild exclamation, but it was drawn from me by no common cause.
In arranging my lazo, I had taken my eyes from the chase, only for a
moment: when I looked out again, _the horse had disappeared_!

With a mechanical movement I drew bridle, almost wrenching my horse upon
his haunches; indeed, the animal had half halted of his own accord, and
with a low whimper seemed to express terror. What could it mean? Where
was the wild-horse?

I wheeled round, and round again, scanning the prairie on every side--
though a single glance might have served. The plain, as already
described, was level as a table; the horizon bounded the view: there was
neither rock nor tree, nor bush nor weed, nor even long grass. The
sward was of the kind known upon the prairies as "buffalo-grass"
(_Sesleria dactyloides_), short when full grown, but then rising
scarcely two inches above the soil. A serpent could hardly have found
concealment under it, but a horse--

Merciful heaven! _where was the steed_?

An indefinable feeling of awe crept over me: I trembled; I felt my horse
trembling between my thighs. He was covered with foam and sweat; so was
I--the effects of the hard ride: but the cold perspiration of terror was
fast breaking upon me. The mystery was heavy and appalling!

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

THE PHANTOM-HORSE.

I have encountered dangers--not a few--but they were the ordinary perils
of flood and field, and I understood them. I have had one limb br