I knew that, having once seen me, he would not stop until he had pressed his nose against my cheek—­for this was his usual custom.  Holding out my hands I again uttered the magic words.  Now looking downward he perceived me, and, stretching himself, sprang out into the channel.  The next moment, I held him by the bridle.  There was no time to be lost.  I was still going down, and my arm-pits were fast nearing the surface of the quicksand.  I caught the lariat, and, passing it under the saddle-girths, fastened it in a tight, firm knot.  I then looped the trailing end, making it secure around my body.  I had left enough of the rope, between the bit-ring and the girths, to enable me to check and guide the animal, in case the drag upon my body should be too painful.

All this while the dumb brute seemed to comprehend what I was about.  He knew, too, the nature of the ground on which he stood, for, during the operation, he kept lifting his feet alternately to prevent himself from sinking.  My arrangements were at length completed, and, with a feeling of terrible anxiety, I gave my horse the signal to move forward.  Instead of going off with a start, the intelligent animal stepped away slowly, as though he understood my situation.  The lariat tightened, I felt my body moving, and the next moment experienced a wild delight, a feeling I can not describe, as I found myself dragged out of the sand.  I sprang to my feet with a shout of joy.  I rushed up to my steed, and, throwing my arms around his neck, kissed him with as much delight as I would have kissed a beautiful girl.  He answered my embrace with a low whimper, that told me that I was understood.

I looked for my rifle.  Fortunately, it had not sunk deeply, and I soon found it.  My boots were behind me, but I staid not to look for them, being smitten with a wholesome dread of the place where I had left them.  I was not long in retreating from the arroyo; and, mounting, I galloped back to the trail.  It was sundown before I reached the camp, where I was met by the inquiries of my companions.  I answered all their questions by relating my adventures, and, for that night, I was again the hero of the camp-fire.

CHASED BY A RHINOCEROS.

On the 22d, says Mr. Cumming, ordering my men to move on toward a fountain in the center of the plain, I rode forth with Ruyter, and held east through a grove of lofty and wide-spreading mimosas, most of which were more or less damaged by the gigantic strength of a troop of elephants, which had passed there about twelve months before.  Having proceeded about two miles with large herds of game on every side, I observed a crusty-looking, old bull borele, or black rhinoceros, cocking his ears one hundred yards in advance.  He had not observed us; and soon after he walked slowly toward us, and stood broadside to, eating some wait-a-bit thorns within fifty yards of me.  I fired from my saddle, and sent a bullet in behind his shoulder, upon which he rushed forward about one hundred yards in tremendous consternation, blowing like a grampus, and then stood looking about him.  Presently he made off.  I followed but found it hard to come up with him.  When I overtook him I saw the blood running freely from his wound.