"Found another place where you will not follow me, eh, old boy!" rattled the Illinoisan, with a reference which the other easily understood. "Well, I will see you by-and-bye, then. Go along, Bay Beelzebub!" and the next moment, darting by the centre line and taking precedence even of the leading guide, in a path that was literally nothing but a three-cornered trough, he was to be seen ascending the next rise, his horse trotting along riderless, and himself springing from crag to crag beside the path, his hand upon the animal's back and the reins lying loose on its neck. He had alighted, of course, without checking the speed of the horse in any degree. But a few minutes later, and when the cavalcade had reached the top of Mount Clinton and was coming out from the gloom of the heavy woods into the partial sunshine,--they saw the odd equestrian riding over a portion of road that was only moderately bad, standing erect on his horse's back, supported by the reins and his own powers of balancing,--and heard his deep, cheery voice ringing out in a song that seemed as complete a medley as his own character. It may be permissible to put upon record one of the stanzas, which some of those nearest him caught and remembered: "The heart bowed down by weight of wo-- When comin' thro' the rye? If I had a donkey wot wouldn't go-- Good-bye, my love, good-bye! I see them on their winding way: Old clothes, old clothes to sell! So let's be happy while we may-- Lost Isabel!" Still later, the riders were all thrown into momentary horror by coming upon him, as they rounded the head of a gorge near the top of Mount Prospect,--his horse on a walk, and himself hanging over one side, apparently by the heels. The impression prevailed that he must have been knocked senseless by a limb, in some of his pranks, and got his feet fatally entangled in the stirrups,--the result of which impression was that a sudden scream, in a woman's voice, burst out from some portion of the line, but so instantaneously suppressed that no one could trace it. It turned out that in this last operation, so far from being killed, he was only practising the Indian mode of hanging beside his horse, supported by one hand at the neck and one foot over the saddle, after the manner of the wild tribes of the Plains when throwing the horse as a shield between themselves and the shot of a pursuer! After a time, however, the reckless fellow seemed to have grown tired of his humor; for, as the long line crossed over the peak of Prospect to Monroe, and the north wind and the sun had so driven away the clouds that the riders began to realize the glorious prospect opening upon them on every hand,--he took his place in the line, next to his deserted comrade Townsend, sat his horse like a Christian, and joined in the bursts of admiration vented on all sides, with an enthusiasm which showed that the scenery had never palled upon him by familiarity.