of the rough and pleasant phases of mountain life passed in review, until that of racing, and the comparative speed of their horses, was introduced. On this theme Ives was specially eloquent, and being mounted on his own pony, which had some local popularity as a racer, he ventured finally to propose a trial of speed with several of the guard, and even challenged them to race with him. After one or two short scrub races, in which he suffered himself to be beaten, the spirit of the race-course seemed suddenly to animate the company, and, one after another, all were soon engaged in the exciting sport. It increased in interest and excitement for several miles, and until within a short distance of Daly’s ranche. At this point, Ives’s horse, which had been kept under before, was now pressed to his utmost speed; and when the party were least prepared for it, they saw him not only as the winner in the race, but leading the cavalcade, and bearing his master away at a fearfully rapid rate over the level stretch towards Daly’s. Instantly, every horse was urged into the pursuit. On rode the desperado, and on followed the now broken column of scouts, two of whom pressed him so closely that he could not stop long enough at the ranche to exchange his pony for his favorite horse, which, by order of some of his friends who had pushed on from the wakiup in advance of the scouts, had been saddled and was standing ready for his use. His pursuers, more fortunate, found a fresh horse and mule standing there, which had come down from Virginia City. These they mounted, and resuming the pursuit, when three miles away from the main road near the Bivans Gulch mountains, they saw the hotly pressed fugitive jump from his exhausted pony, and take refuge among the rocks of an adjacent ravine. Quicker than it can be told, they alighted, and, fresher on foot than the jaded steeds, they were soon standing on the edge of the sheltering hollow. Ives was nowhere visible. Certain that he was near, Burtchy and Jack Wilson plunged into the ravine, and commenced a separate search among the rocks. It was of brief duration, for Burtchy soon discovered him, crouching behind a large bowlder, and directed him to come out and surrender himself. Ives laughingly obeyed, and in a wheedling manner was approaching Burtchy, who was separated from his comrade, evidently with the purpose of wresting his gun from him. Burtchy understood the movement, and with his eye still coursing the barrel, now but a few feet from the heart it would have been emptied into in a moment more, he said, “That is far enough, Mr. Ives. Now stand fast, or I shall spill your precious life-blood very quick.” Wilson, who had been searching in a different direction, now came up and aided in securing the prisoner, with whom they soon rejoined the rest of the company. The two hours which had elapsed between the escape and recapture, were pregnant with wisdom for the almost disheartened scouts.