Remounting, he caught his other horse and pounded on, his sole thought a savage desire to get at Duval. Besides Audubon and Ayres, but two others were left; one of these was mired a mile farther on, and they swept away from him before he could change beasts. Good though the horses were, they were staggering terribly. The Louisianian was wild with impotent rage; he knew well that Duval would secure a fresh mount at the tavern ahead, and would get the best. With a frenzy of curses he drove on his steed, let his spare horse drop behind, saw Ayres pull up with a cry of despair, and thundered on over the last mile, hoping against hope. And all in vain. The tavern was a low building set in a clearing, barns and tobacco sheds behind, and just beyond was a clump of settlers' cabins. As they came in sight of the place, still a half-mile distant, Norton had plain sight of a figure riding from the tavern at full gallop. With a groan he turned a drawn face to Audubon. "How far to Henderson?" "Fifty miles--we have come half-way, and the day is dying." With a start, Norton perceived that the afternoon was indeed well forward. While the reeling horses galloped on, he turned to the bird-lover and directed him to secure fresh beasts. "We'll get food and eat it later"--and he nodded toward the remaining man, a Scotch farmer from above Louisville. The latter grunted, and so they swept up to the squalid tavern. Its proprietor, an open-mouthed, staring person, met their quick demands with a slow shake of the head, watching them slip to the ground. Before he could reply to them, Norton had shoved him aside with an impatient oath and strode on into the tavern, the Scotch farmer at his heels. In the kitchens out behind the main building they found negro slaves at work, and amid frightened screams Norton seized what food was in sight. Flinging down a dollar in payment, Norton led the way back. Negroes were already leading out half a dozen horses from a near-by pasture while Audubon pacified the tavern-keeper with a gold-piece. In five minutes the saddles were transferred, and the three set out at a breakneck gallop on their new mounts, eating as they rode. The difference in horses was instantly apparent to Norton. Although he urged the beasts relentlessly, when darkness fell they had caught no further glimpse of Duvai. Even his desperate frenzy was forced to give way before the gathering shadows. "Hold up or you'll be brained," cried Audubon as a bough nearly took Norton out of the saddle. "This is rank madness, man!" The Louisianian refused to listen, but pressed on. Five minutes later his horse went down in a mud-hole, its leg broken, while he himself received a nasty fall against a stump. Sobered by the pain and the shaking-up, he shot the poor beast and mounted his spare steed, riding on at a slower pace and in gloomy silence For an hour the three proceeded more slowly, until a glimmering against the horizon announced the rising moon.