“Well, Doctor,” said I, “if you will take the blame, I have no objection to the fun; but remember! I am a very young man, and if Mr. Smith should complain to the Company—”
“Oh, never fear,” was his reply, “for I will make it all right with Galt, if he do. In the meantime, order my man to saddle the horses. Let the Cockney have the roan-mare. You can take your own pony; and do not forget to tell Hinds to bring the brandy. Should we have to camp out all-night, a small soupcon of the creature will do us no harm.”
Everything being in readiness, we started about two o’clock, P.M. Our route lay through the new settlement of Guelph and the fine townships of Upper and Lower Waterloo. This tract of land was originally bought and settled by a company of Dutch Pennsylvanians, upwards of fifty years ago. The Grand River, or Ouse, intersects these townships—a fine stream, spanned by several substantial bridges. This part of the country is densely populated and very fertile. The soil, for the most part, is a light rich loam.
As soon as we had crossed the open country, we entered a narrow bush-road, only just wide enough for two persons to ride abreast. It must be remembered that Smith was a very bad rider, and looked as if he had never been on horse-back before; for every time he rose in his saddle you could see his horse’s head under him.
The Doctor now gave me the wink to fall into the rear; then riding up abreast of Smith, he commenced operations by slyly sticking his spur into the roan mare, exclaiming at the same time, “Come, man, if we don’t push on a little, we shall not reach Blenheim to-night.”
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.”