it from the ground, and slip it over my own. A laugh at his expense, and he offers me a chance at the bottle of pisco for the hat. I take the bottle and jump back just in time to avoid a swinging cut from his horsewhip, and in an instant we are off on a race across the plain. The doctor binds his head with a handkerchief, giving himself the air of a Bedouin of the desert, and lashes his horses into a "dead run" to overtake me, but in vain, and he coaxes and threatens by turns, as we allow him to get almost alongside of us to tantalize him, and then dash off again at a gallop. Silvertail and Juanita are mad for another brush, and Lloyd and myself leave the doctors far behind, and "go in" with a will to see who shall reach Clayton first. Now Silvertail makes a sudden dash and passes ahead, sending the gravel flying back from his hoofs in such volleys that I must perforce shield my eyes and get to one side as soon as possible; then Juanita, with a snort, closes into the work and shoots ahead, compelling him to yield the road in turn. Just as the day is closing and the soft twilight falls, we dash neck and neck into Clayton, rein up our panting steeds before the "Ironclad Hotel," and dismount, having ridden over the mountains and across two hill-ranges, thirty good miles, in just three hours and forty-five minutes, stoppages included. Round, red, and full the moon rises over the eastern hills and floods the landscape with golden glory, bringing out the peaks of the mountain, and every rock, hill, and glen in masses of sharply contrasted light and shadow, very grand to behold. Supper
