As soon as the roan mare felt the spur, off she went at a rattling pace, the Dr. keeping close along-side, and applying the spur whenever he could get a chance. At first, Smith tried hard to pull in the mare; then he shouted to the Doctor to stop her; instead of which, the spur was only applied the sharper. At last, quite frightened, he seized the mane with both his hands. And then commenced a neck-and-neck race for nearly two miles—myself and the Doctor’s man, John Hinds, bringing up the rear, and shouting with laughter. Smith was so frightened, and so intent on stopping his run-away steed, that he never suspected his persecutor who, looking quite grave, said, “He never remembered his roan running off in that extraordinary manner before; but,” he added with a grin, “I suspect, Smith, she knew you were a Cockney.” After this exploit, we went on soberly enough, until we entered the township of Blenheim. We had still some distance to travel through a dense forest, before we should reach Springer’s—a farm-house where we intended to stop all night, and where the Doctor kept a store of good things, under the charge of Mrs. Springer; for this was always his halting-place, on his various journeys to Goderich. Darkness fell as we entered the Blenheim woods, and now the Doctor took the opportunity of asking me, “If I thought that I could howl?” I expressed confidence in my abilities that way. The Doctor then said, “Second any move of mine for pushing you on to Springer’s. But mind,” continued he, “you are to stop within half a mile of his clearing; and when you hear us coming, you must howl with all your might, and leave the rest to me.” After a while, when it was quite dark, so that we could scarcely see our horses’ heads, the Doctor proposed that I should take Hinds, and “ride on as hard as we could, and tell Mrs. Springer to have supper ready for us; and,” said he, “let the old man tap the whiskey I forwarded to his house last week. We will follow you at our leisure; for my friend is not used to travel after dark on such roads as these.” We accordingly rode on smartly, till we could perceive a slight glimmering of light through the trees, which we knew to be Springer’s clearing. We then halted, one on each side of the road, but entirely concealed from view by the thick underbrush. As soon as we heard the party coming, we set up a most unearthly yell, which made the woods fairly ring again. We could hear the Doctor cry out, “The wolves! the wolves! ride for your life, man,” and he then galloped off in the direction from which they had just come. Poor Smith shouted after him at the top of his voice, imploring the Doctor, for God’s sake, not to leave him. “Oh Lord!” we heard him say, as he rode after the Doctor, “I shall surely be devoured by the ravenous wretches. Help—help! Doctor—stop!” and such like piteous ejaculations.