They were now ascending a steep and narrow path, leading from the river banks up to the rocks above, and slippery and dangerous from the many fallen leaves. Albert Goldsborough was riding very cautiously, leaning forward over his horse’s neck to preserve the equilibrium of weight, and guiding him carefully. Once or twice the horse slipped and stumbled, but recovered himself immediately. Elfie saw all this, and enraged by Goldsborough’s boast that he never intended to let her go back, she recklessly set herself to overturn horse and riders together. She was securely bound, you already know, with a broad leathern girdle to Albert’s waist; but her limbs were all free. So she raised herself as well as she could from her seat, and laying hold of Goldsborough’s shoulders, pulled and hung back with all her might to bring the weight behind, while she pummelled the horse’s flanks to make him rear and lose his balance. “What are you about, Elfie? Do you wish to make the horse fall!” exclaimed Albert. “That is just what I am trying to do, you villain! I don’t care if the horse rolls over backwards, on to us, and we all go rolling over and over each other, till we fall to the bottom of the precipice, a ball of crushed bones!” screamed Elfie, pulling and tugging and kicking, and doing all she could to effect her purpose; but in vain. She made the horse slip and stumble, and shake his head impatiently when he recovered himself; but that was all. At last, breathless and exhausted, she ceased her efforts. Albert turned his head and laughed at her. “Why, my dear, this old horse is a veteran! He has been in too many pitched battles, and in too many neck or nothing hunts—he has forded too many rivers, climbed too many mountains, faced too many batteries, and ridden down too many fixed bayonets—to be disturbed by trifles! And here we are at the top of the mountain; so you needn’t resume your efforts to pitch us down,” he added, as they reached the summit, and entered a thick copse wood of cedars, where here and there grew gigantic forest trees. “I’ll make him dash your brains out against some of these trees!” cried Elfie. And she tried another experiment. She raised herself in her seat, screamed, halloed, shouted, and made the most unearthly noises to frighten the horse and make him run away; but all to no purpose; and once more she ceased for want of breath. “How well you’ll sleep to-night, after all these violent exertions!” laughed Albert Goldsborough; “and the good night’s rest will be about all the good that you will obtain by the stupendous efforts. Bless you, my dear, the old horse is used to the roar of battle and the thunder of cannon! It isn’t likely that he is going to suffer himself to be annoyed by your little two-penny trumpet!” “I’ll take out every pin I have about me, and stick them up to their heads in his hide!” screamed Elfie, beginning to do as she threatened.