It was all easy enough to follow the warriors, but Tom and Dick were hopelessly puzzled when they came up with the redskins, saw Lone Wolf and his brother warriors, and made the discovery that the boy was not with them. It was a most trying problem to them—the only solution being that they had grown impatient with the boy and put him to death; and yet, as the trail had been followed and narrowly watched, it seemed impossible that such a thing should have taken place without the pursuers finding it out before this. Dick Morris suggested that the captive, by some providential interference, had managed to give them the slip, but Tom could not believe it among the possibilities. If such were the case, there were no means of learning when or where it had been done, and the scouts were as completely cut off from pursuit of the boy as were the Apaches themselves.

In this dilemma there was little to do except to make a general hunt for him, keeping all the time within striking distance of the Apaches, as they did not think that the fugitive could have gotten very far from them. The hunters carefully secreted their animals, and tramped over the mountains and through ravines, gorges, and woods, until, on this eventful forenoon they discovered Lone Wolf ahead of them, acting as though he had detected something particularly gratifying. The shrewd scouts suspected the truth on the instant. The Apache was also searching for the lad, and, guided by a greater knowledge, had discovered him. And so he crouched down in the rocks, not knowing that two other figures shortly after crouched behind him. Then, after the story had been told, as the three moved off together, Dick Morris having picked up the rifle which Lone Wolf cast from him as the contest was about to open, Ned Chadmund gave him his version of that terrible attack and slaughter in Devil's Pass, and of what had followed since. When he came to explain the clever manner in which he dodged the Apaches, his listeners were delighted. Dick slapped him upon the back, and Tom insisted upon shaking hands again. It was a favorite way the old fellow had of expressing his overwhelming delight at anything he saw or heard.

"If you'll put yourself under our trainin'," he added, "we'll make a hunter of ye in the course of a dozen or fifteen years, more or less."

But Ned had no interest in hunting matters just then. He wanted to get out of that dangerous neighborhood, and to reach Fort Havens with as little delay as possible.

"How far is it?" he asked, as the trio moved along the trail.

"We can make it in two or three days, I think," said Tom. "Some parts of the way, though, is rather rough, and it may take us longer."

"You don't expect to walk it, do you?"

They assured him that they had no intention of doing any such thing. Their horses were secreted in a gorge about three miles distant, and as soon as they could be reached they would mount them and speed away for Fort Havens.

"And we'll do it, too, at a gait that'll beat any mustang that Lone Wolf has ever straddled," added Dick, exultingly. "When a chap goes into the Injun country, he must fetch the best hoss flesh he can steal."

"But I haven't any horse," said Ned, with a laugh. "What's to become of me when you're riding?"

Tom explained that there could be no difficulty about that. Such a trifling additional weight would not be suspected by either of the animals.

"Where do you suppose Lone Wolf is?" asked the boy, looking furtively around, unable to free himself of the belief that they were not through with him yet.

"He's gone back to his party; they've split since you left 'em. About thirty started yesterday forenoon for the Apache villages to the south'ard, and the tother twenty are in camp off here a mile or so."

As Tom spoke, he pointed to the west, in among the mountains, and in a direction at right angles to what he was pursuing himself.

"Our road twists round a little," he added, "and when we get to where we left the animals, we'll be 'bout as far away from the Apaches as we are now. What's better, there's some mighty rough travelin' between us and them, such as no hosses can git over."

"But Indians can, can't they?"

"I rather guess so. What's the matter, my boy?" asked Tom, looking down upon him as they picked along. "You're talkin' as if you was thinkin' 'bout Injuns all the time."

"That's what I've had to do for the last three or four days. Lone Wolf managed to get away from you, and where do you think he is? What do you think he means to do?"

As the boy asked this question, he glanced around in such a timid, apprehensive way, that his companions laughed. It was natural that the lad should have these misgivings, especially as it seemed to him that his friends were using no precautions at all to prevent a treacherous surprise upon the part of the Apaches. To relieve his fears, they convinced him that they were on the alert, and did not fail to note everything.

They expected, in the natural course of events, that Lone Wolf would make all haste back to camp, and take every means of revenging himself and securing possession of the boy again. Indeed, this was all he could do. He had no rifle with which to fire a stealthy shot at them, and it was necessary that he should first return to his warriors before striking a blow. To do all this required time sufficient to permit the three to reach the gorge, mount their animals, and get fairly under way before he and his warriors could possibly put in an appearance. Tom and Dick, therefore, could not be accused of undue recklessness in taking matters in such a leisurely fashion. They assured their young friend still further that they were on the eastern margin of the prairie, and, after starting with their mustangs, had a clear, open course before them.

It was somewhat past noon when they entered the ravine, which had already been described to Ned, and, while the latter remained to talk with Morris, Tom moved on further and down in a more secluded place, in quest of their mustangs, which had been left grazing upon the rich, succulent grass, beside a running stream of mountain water. All were in high spirits, and our hero was as buoyant and cheerful as the others, when they saw their friend returning empty-handed.

"What's up?" asked Dick.

"The Injuns have stole our mustangs!"

"Sure?"

"Yes—plenty of moccasin tracks—but not cussed sign of a single hoss," was the sour reply.



CHAPTER XXII.

ANXIOUS WAITING.

This was astounding news, indeed, and for a few minutes the two veteran hunters were completely taken back. They had considered the place where their animals were picketed as being so secure that the contingency of losing them was not thought of until it came upon them with the suddenness mentioned.

"They didn't find them themselves," growled Tom, as if determined on finding consolation in that fact; "they've stumbled onto 'em accidental-like, and then rid off, as though they were smart enough to be reg'lar hoss-thieves."

"Have you seen the trail?" asked Dick.

"Yes."

"Whereaway does it lead?"

The hunter replied by pointing toward the northwest, among the hills and mountains in the wildest portion of the country.

A hurried consultation now took place between them, and it was resolved to recover the two mustangs. They counted it easy to secure a couple of the Indian ponies; but among them all were none which, in their own estimation, could compare with their own, and they were determined not to leave the country until they were regained. The most skillful Apache may succeed in hiding his own trail at times, but he cannot cover that of his horse so that the trained scout will fail to find it.

It was found that the mustangs had been ridden away without being accompanied by other animals. The number of moccasin tracks at a certain point showed that a party of warriors had accidentally detected the animals, each of which was mounted by a single Indian and ridden away, the warriors taking altogether a different direction. This simplified matters, and was not displeasing to Dick and Tom, for two of these active redskins could, as a matter of course, be circumvented with much more ease than could ten times that number.

Accompanied by Ned, the hunters led the way up out of the hollow, crossed as it was by the stream of icy cold and clear water and covered with the richest grass, and entered a more rocky section, where the horses must have experienced considerable difficulty in traveling, as numerous places showed where their hoofs had slipped upon the stones.

"We can beat them on that," said Dick, when they had trailed them for a short distance. "They can't be many hours ahead of us, and when we do catch up with 'em, Tom, we'll warm 'em; what do you say?"

Tom nodded his head to signify that he agreed with these sentiments exactly, and the trio pressed forward harder than ever.

There were many places in which the thieves had progressed with no little trouble, and their pursuers, unimpeded by the mustangs, were gaining rapidly upon them; but this by no means insured success. A hundred difficulties remained in the way, and the most that the two hunters could hope was that the two Apaches had no suspicion of being followed. If they believed themselves secure, it followed as a matter of course that they would take no precautions against any surprise from the rear. The hunters went forward at a rate which was exceedingly trying to Ned, but he bravely held up until something like a mile was passed, when Tom, who acted as a leader, suddenly paused.

"We must wait here till we make an observation," said he, in a low tone. "I take it that we aren't very far from the scamps, and we must look out and not spile the whole thing when we've got it all in shape."

For the entire distance they had been steadily advancing upon higher ground, and having now reached the culminating point, it was necessary to look ahead and learn whither they were going before making any rash venture into an entirely different section. While Dick and Ned, therefore, remained where they were, Tom stole cautiously forward for some distance further, until he reached a high, flat rock, the edge of which he approached on his hands and knees, and stealthily peered over.

Only a few seconds did he spend thus when he began retrograding, like a crab.

"I think I've hit the spot," he said in an undertone, as he rejoined his friends. "There's a sort of path which leads down into the lower country, and as that's the only way the hosses can travel, it follers that they must have gone that way. That 'ere place that I was speakin' of goes down into a spot a good deal like the one where we expected to find the animiles and didn't, and there's where I think we'll find 'em awaitin' for us."

"Do you see any sign?" inquired Dick.

"Not yet; they wouldn't be likely to kindle a camp fire at this time of day, and afore they jined the others. Come ahead, we must be mighty keerful now, when we're gettin' so close."

As before, Tom took the lead, and they advanced with the greatest caution. If the Apaches had any fear of being followed, they were very likely to detect the men stealing down upon them; but much reliance was placed upon the likelihood of their holding no such suspicion.

The afternoon was half gone when the locality pointed out by Hardynge was reached, and the three halted again. As soon as they had concealed themselves Tom continued his reconnaissance, making it with such care that he consumed fully a half hour before concluding it. When he reappeared, with the silence of a shadow, he whispered:

"They're there—both of 'em."

He explained that he had approached close enough to recognize his own animal as well as Dick's. He saw nothing more, not even an Indian, but it followed, of course, that they were near at hand. From this point forward, therefore, the presence of the lad could be nothing but an incumbrance, and it was agreed that he should stay where he was until the animals were recaptured, when he could ride away with one of them.

"Remember, the varmints are close onto you," said Tom, by way of caution; "and you must keep mighty shady. Don't go to crawling about, and trying to peep into what's none of your business."

The boy promised obedience, and the two left him. As near as he could judge he was within a hundred yards of the camp of the horse thieves, and there was no certainty that, if they discovered the approach of the hunters, they might take a course which would bring them back over the same path. So, to avoid any unpleasant discovery, he crept in beneath some dense shrubbery, where he felt secure against observation, and anxiously awaited the result.

Ned had not been in this place of concealment five minutes, when he was startled by a slight noise behind him, such as would be made by the cautious approach of some person or creature. He turned his head, but his view was too much obstructed by the vegetation around him. The slight disturbance continued until Ned's curiosity got the better of his judgment, and he stealthily parted the leaves with one hand sufficiently to permit him to see out.

As he dreaded, he detected an Indian warrior, whose actions indicated that he knew what was going on. He was stepping along as if fearful that the slight rustling would catch the ears of parties who were far beyond the range of hearing. Fortunately for Ned, at the moment he looked forth in this stealthy manner the Apache afforded only what may be termed a three-quarter view, having passed slightly beyond where he was hidden; and, as he continued to move in the same direction, nothing but his back was visible a few minutes afterward. But the lad saw enough to render him uneasy. At first glimpse he took the Indian to be Lone Wolf, but he caught sight of enough of his visage to make certain that it was another warrior altogether; but he was large, powerful, and very formidable looking, and Ned dreaded an encounter between him and one of the hunters.

Curiously enough, he carried no gun with him, and, as the boy still retained possession of Lone Wolf's, it seemed to young Chadmund that he could want no better opportunity of wiping out one of those pestilent redskins. With this purpose in view he cautiously shoved the end of the weapon through the bushes and aimed at the back of the warrior, who, at that moment, could not have been more than a dozen yards from him. There could be no mistaking a target so conspicuous and so close at hand; but when the aim was sure and Ned's finger was pressing the trigger, he restrained himself by the self-imposed question whether it was right to pick off a foe, savage though he was, in that fashion. He was well aware that no mercy would have been shown him had the position been reversed; still, he could not justify in his own mind an act that looked so much like murder.

"No," said he, when this inward conflict had continued a minute or so. "I s'pose Tom and Dick would laugh at me if they knew how I acted: but I don't believe father would like to have me fight that way. Anyhow, my conscience don't, so I won't."



CHAPTER XXIII.

THE DEATH SHOT.

It took Ned about a minute to reach his merciful conclusion and to lower the hammer of his gun. This done, he looked out to see how the Indian was getting along. To his amazement nothing was seen of him. He had vanished as suddenly as if the ground had opened and swallowed him up. Wondering what it all could mean, the boy rose to his feet, and peered out, parting the bushes still more and advancing a little from his concealment. The ground was quite level, covered here and there with boulders and a scrubby undergrowth, but there was nothing to be seen of the warrior. During the second or two occupied in lowering the hammer of his rifle, the Apache had disappeared, flashing out, so to speak, into nothingness.

"That's mighty queer," reflected Ned, as he resumed his seat under the bushes. "I know those redskins are pretty lively, but I didn't think they could get up and leave as fast as that."

There was something in the manner of this thing which alarmed him. The Apache, when last seen, was advancing carefully in the direction taken by the scouts. Why this sudden diversion? What did it mean but that the redskin had made an important discovery, and what could that discovery be but that he was threatened by danger from the rear? Such being the case, it followed that the peril had been transferred from one to the other. Instead of the lad threatening the Indian it was vice versa.

"I bet he'll be back here," was the conclusion of our hero, as he once more raised the hammer of his gun. "He must have heard me when I moved the bushes, and he'll be trying some of his tricks upon me."

He concluded that if the Indian made him a visit it would be from another direction, and so he shifted his position somewhat, managing to face the other way, while he kept all his senses on the qui vive for the hostile visit which he was confident would not be long delayed. At the same time he had a strong hope that the scouts would return in time to prevent any such encounter as he pictured in his own mind, and which he thoroughly dreaded.

In his excited mental condition it was impossible to judge accurately of the passage of time, but it seemed to him that he had been in waiting fully fifteen minutes, yet not the slightest sound reached him from that direction. The lad remained in a state of suspense which was intensified by his fears of a flank movement upon the part of the Apache whom he had seen but a short time before.

"It must take them a long time to make a reconnaissance—"

He suddenly ceased, for his ear, more than usually alert, caught a slight but suspicious sound, and quick as a flash he turned his head. He was not an instant too soon, for there was the crouching figure of the Apache warrior, no more than a dozen feet distant, his gleaming knife clutched in his right hand, and his eyes fairly aflame with passion. He was not moving along inch by inch, but with that soft gliding motion, which was more like the approach of a serpent than of a person.

Ned still held his rifle with the hammer raised, and ready for just such an emergency. Partly expecting the visit, he was fully prepared. When he turned his head and encountered the gaze of the Indian, the latter gave utterance to a low gutteral exclamation, and started more rapidly toward him.

"If you must have it, there it is."

The flash from the muzzle of the rifle was almost in the face of the Apache, who, with a death-shriek horrible to hear, threw both arms above his head, and, with a spasmodic twitching of the limbs, breathed his last in a single breath.

Ned was scarcely less terrified than the redskin must have been at the first flash of the gun; and, forgetful of the warning of the scouts, he leaped out from beneath the bushes, and dashed away in the direction taken by his friends.

He had run but a rod or two when he suddenly found himself face to face with Tom Hardynge, who demanded, in a hurried undertone:

"What's up, now?"

"I've just shot an Indian."

"Did you wipe him out?"

"Oh, yes; oh, yes."

"Then what are you running away from him for? If you've wiped him out, he can't hurt you."

"But I don't want to stay near him," added the lad, who was in a distressing state of anxiety; "take me away."

"That's just what I'm going to do," replied the hunter, turning about and hurrying off. "Keep close to me and I will take care of you."

Instead of retracing their steps, they kept ahead, and a short distance further on made an abrupt turn and suddenly came upon Dick Morris, seated upon the back of his mustang, with Thundergust, as Tom called him, standing near, and a third one visible in the background.

"Whose is that?" asked the astonished boy.

"We fetched him for you. Come, bounce upon his back and let's be off."

The animal alluded to was a handsome black pony, spirited and fleet, with a valuable blanket strapped to its back, and a leathern bridle-rein. He showed some opposition to Ned's mounting him, but with the assistance of Tom he quieted down and showed as much docility as the others.

The hunters, in approaching the camp, used as much care and deliberation as if they were certain that there were a hundred of the fiercest warriors there. They speedily learned, however, that there were but the two Indian horse thieves, who, in bringing the plunder to that place, had returned to the spot where their own animals had been left previous to their starting out upon the raid.

The Apaches were entirely unsuspicious of any pursuit, and they were lolling upon the ground at such a distance from the mustangs, that the three were secured without much trouble. Dick Morris insisted upon sailing in and clearing out the two marauders; but Tom was equally strenuous in demanding that they should not be disturbed. He was certain there were other warriors near by, and any such attempt would complicate matters. Accordingly they stole away with their recaptured animals and the one which was not exactly recaptured, and as soon as a convenient spot was selected Hardynge turned back for the boy, encountering him on the way.

Since all three were mounted upon good beasts they made all haste possible to leave the section, which beyond all question was a most dangerous one in every sense.

The trio had several important advantages on their side. Although the Apaches were on every hand, and doubtless would make an attempt to revenge themselves upon the hunters, yet it was already growing dark, and between now and morning the Caucasians could accomplish a great deal. Furthermore, they were close to the prairie, reaching which, they had all the opportunity they could desire to leave their enemies behind. In a fair trial of speed, neither of the hunters had any misgivings as to the fleetness of their animals, even if it should become necessary to place the additional weight of the lad upon one. Still, the route was difficult, and in many places it seemed almost impossible to make their way along, the horses stumbling, and on one or two occasions the party came to a dead halt.

But Tom Hardynge had been there before, and insisted each time there was some way out of the difficulty without turning back. Dismounting from his animal he groped around for a few minutes in the dark, and on every occasion called out in an undertone that he had found the path. In this manner they kept it up for a couple of hours, when the route became much more easy to travel. Occasionally they paused and listened and looked, but nothing threatening was discovered. Quite a distance on the left, the twinkle of a camp fire was discerned, but it was so distant that it gave no concern. All remained quiet in the rear, though pursuit from that quarter was to be expected.

The three rode along in silence for something like half an hour longer, when Hardynge, who was slightly in advance, abruptly reined up his steed and said:

"We're through the mountains. There's the prairie afore us."



CHAPTER XXIV.

THE BUFFALOES.

The moon was now well up in the sky, and the members of the party were enabled to discern objects at a greater distance than at any time since starting. When Tom Hardynge announced that they had passed through this spur of mountains, the three instinctively turned their eyes to the westward, where the prairie stretched away until it vanished in the gloom.

"There's a clean hundred miles or more of level plain," added the hunter. "I've traveled it many a time and I ought to know."

"You're right," said Dick. "That's a good sweep of prairie, and we ought to make good time over it, for our horses have had a long rest."

"There's only one thing that troubles me," ventured Ned Chadmund, when the heads of all their animals were turned westward; "I'm so hungry and faint that I can hardly sit on my horse."

"That's bad," said Tom, feelingly. "I never thought of that when we had a good chance among the mountains to fetch down some game. We ain't apt to run agin anythin' in the hash line while riding along on the prairie; but we'll try it, and if we don't we'll turn off to a little spot where I know we shall hit it."

Ned expressed his willingness to do this, and the company started. Instead of going in Indian file, as they had done while among the mountains, they rode side by side at an easy swinging gallop, the prairie lightening up as they advanced, and the surface continuing of the same impact character, which rendered it the most favorable possible for horseback riding. To one who, like the boy, had tramped and trudged along until scarcely able to stand, this change was of the most pleasing character. He felt comfortable and anxious to ride ahead for hours, the only drawback being that gnawing hunger, that weary faintness, which could only be dissipated by food.

Occasionally, while riding along in this manner, the three would halt and listen, and then, when certain that they heard nothing, move on again. This was repeated several times, until the two hunters remained motionless longer than usual. When Ned asked the cause of this, Tom replied by asking him whether he heard anything. He answered that he did not.

"I hear it," added the scout, as he dismounted and applied his ear to the ground.

"What do you make it?" inquired Dick.

"Can't tell."

Hardynge remained standing beside his steed for several minutes, looking off to the southward, and then he knelt down and bent his ear to the ground again.

"It is off yonder," he added, pointing to the southward, and leaping at the same time upon the back of his mustang.

Ned listened to catch some explanation; but at this interesting juncture, for some reason only known to themselves, the two men began talking in the Indian tongue. It was interesting to hear their gutteral exclamations, but it would have been much more interesting could he have understood what they were saying, and to know why it was, when talking, that they laughed and looked meaningly toward him. The lad affected not to notice all this, although it piqued his curiosity not a little.

A half mile more was ridden at a leisurely gait, when all three drew up their mustangs, and Dick Morris looked meaningly at their young comrade.

"Do you hear anything now?"

Yes, there could be no mistaking it, faint though it was. All three sat motionless and listened. At first, it might have been taken for the far-off rumble of thunder—a fluttering, distant rattle, such as is occasionally heard during the hot summer months. It was not exactly of that character, either, being more like a continuous rattle, coming from some point many miles away.

"What do you suppose it is?" asked Tom, of the lad.

"I never heard anything like it before. What is it?"

"Does it sound like the tramp of animals?"

"Not much, it seems to me. It can't be that."

"That's just what it is."

Ned started.

"So it is—so it is. I can notice it now. I hear the sound of horses hoofs on the prairie. The sound is growing more distinct, too, and they must be coming this way, Tom. Is that so?"

"That's just what's the matter. We'll see 'em all inside of half an hour, unless we turn tail and run."

"Let's do it, then, for there can't be much time to spare."

The hunters showed no disposition to flee from the danger approaching, and Ned began to grow alarmed.

"Why do you stay here?" he asked. "If your horses are so fleet that no one can catch them, what is the use of letting them do it?"

"Don't get scart, my boy," returned Tom Hardynge. "We'll take care of you."

He much preferred that they should all take care of themselves by giving their animals the rein and permitting the Apaches to make no nearer approach. But the scouts were obstinate and remained as motionless as statues. The tramping of myriad feet came nearer and nearer, until the sound partook of one general, thunderous undertone of the most trying character to the lad. It seemed to him so much like suicide—this waiting for a terrible danger as it steadily approached—that he was strongly tempted to start his horse away on his own account.

"Look!" called out Morris, pointing toward the southwest.

Following the direction indicated, the lad saw what appeared to be a heavy cloud lying low down in the horizon, but creeping slowly upward, like the sulphurous vapor that sometimes hovers over a battle field.

"What is it?" he asked, terrified, knowing that it was not the presage of a storm such as sometimes sweeps over the prairies.

There was something strange and unnatural in its appearance, accompanied, as it was, by the tremulous, thunderous rumbling. By and by, as this uproar came nearer and nearer, a still more curious sight presented itself. The prairie seemed agitated, trembling and quivering with a peculiar, wave-like motion, such as the ocean shows when it is subsiding after a severe storm. There was a sea, a living sea, spreading tumultuously over the plain. Dark, heaving masses were constantly verging nearer, as they moved rapidly toward the northeast. Suddenly light broke in upon the mind of Ned Chadmund.

"I know what it is!" he exclaimed. "They are buffaloes."

"Correct," assented Tom, with a laugh. "They are passing pretty close, but we're out of their way."

The buffaloes surged so near to where the three horsemen stood that more than once Ned started with a fear that they would be overwhelmed; but the hunters showed such calmness and self-possession that he was reassured. All at once a furious trampling was heard, and two of the animals that had become separated from the others in some way, dashed directly by the horsemen and out upon the prairie.

"Now, Ned," called out Tom; "there's your chance! Take that head one! He will make you a good supper if you can fetch him down!"

The lad and his animal were seized with a sudden inspiration seemingly at the same time. Just as the heart of the young hunter swelled with a wild desire to bring down the noble game, the mustang bounded away in pursuit of the very buffalo which had been indicated by the trapper. As the rider saw himself drawing rapidly near the huge body, lumbering awkwardly but rapidly along, he was seized with a fluttering which, perhaps was natural, but which, unless overcome, was fatal to any hopes of procuring any supper. The mustang drew steadily nearer, Ned's agitation increasing every minute, until pursuer and pursued were running side by side.

This was the critical moment when the rider should have fired, and when the horse had been taught to expect him to do so; but when our hero raised the heavy Indian gun to his shoulder, his trembling, together with the jolting of his mustang, now upon a dead run, told him that it would be useless to fire, when the only chance of hitting his prey was by the merest accident. Accordingly, he lowered his gun, in the hopes of quieting his nerves, so as to bring himself up to the self-appointed task. As he did so, his horse began shying off from the buffalo. He was afraid of the horns of the enraged creature, and having given him all the opportunity he could expect, he was not willing to keep him company any longer. The paths continued to diverge until they were twenty yards apart, when the mustang appeared to think all danger was passed. By this time Ned Chadmund felt that he was master of himself, and he turned the head of his horse toward the immense fugitive, still gliding forward at the same terrific rate.

"I'll fetch him this time," he muttered, with a determined air.



CHAPTER XXV.

ALONE AGAIN.

The mustang, trained as he was to this sort of hunting, steadily drew up again to the buffalo, which was plunging forward with unabated speed, while Ned held his rifle ready to fire whenever the critical moment should come. He concluded that the proper place at which to aim was the head, and, drawing his gun to his shoulder, he did not hesitate, although he knew the aim was anything but a good one. It struck the bison beyond all question, but did no more than irritate him; for, without any other warning than a sudden lowering of the head, he wheeled, and turned directly upon the horse, with the evident purpose of disemboweling him.

But the latter had seen this sort of business before, and was prepared for it.

Without attempting to turn to the one side or the other, or to check his speed in the least, he made a terrific flying leap upward, going clear over the head of the buffalo, landing upon the other side, and continuing his flight at his leisure, as it may be said.

This was a clever trick of the mustang, but it proved the undoing of his rider, who had no other saddle than the Indian blanket strapped to the horse's back. This was good enough, except in such a sudden emergency as the present, when Ned was entirely unprepared for it. It was done in a twinkling, the end of it being that he found himself lying upon the green sward of the prairie, considerably bruised, and with horse and buffalo rapidly speeding from view.

"This is a go," said the lad, rising to his feet and looking about him. "I don't see where the fun of buffalo hunting comes in."

During the minutes of excitement when the mustang was coursing with such speed over the prairie, the rider had no idea of the direction taken, nor could he conjecture how far he had gone; but the result was that he was separated by a much greater distance than he supposed from his friends. Ned stood and gazed carefully about him. Off to the west were the dust, and thousands upon thousands of buffaloes. The latter were too far removed to be distinguished, but that tramping and the heavy cloud indicated where the mass of life was plunging tumultuously forward toward some destination unknown even to themselves. Nothing was to be seen of the hunters. They had sent the lad off on this hunt on purpose to give him a taste of buffalo hunting, not supposing, of course, that any accident would result.

"What shall I do?" was the question the boy asked himself, as he stood, rifle in hand, and looked around him. "If there was some way in which I could get a good supper, I wouldn't mind this camping out, for Tom and Dick will be sure to find me in the morning."

Looking toward the north, he fancied that he dimly discerned the dark outline of something which resembled a grove of trees, and he turned his footsteps in that direction.

"If they are trees," he reflected, as he trudged along, "it's more than likely there's water there, and now that I've got a gun, I've some chance of shooting something; and that reminds me of poor Corporal Hugg's warning, always to reload my gun the first thing after firing it."

He had enough sense to carry out this resolution on the spot, and then he resumed his journey in the direction of the object that had attracted his attention. A short distance further he was pleased to find his first impression correct. He was approaching a clump of trees where he could rest with a much greater sense of security than upon the open prairie. Thoroughly weary and worn out, faint with hunger, he felt like throwing himself upon the ground and sleeping for a week. But, continuing, he entered a grove of trees something like a hundred yards in extent, through which, in the stillness of the night, he caught distinctly the ripple of flowing water. It required but a moment to discover this and he lay down upon the margin, quaffed his full and flung himself upon the grass to sleep until morning. Five minutes after his eyes were shut he was wrapped in a sound slumber which remained undisturbed until morning when, as he opened his eyes, he found the sun shining through the branches upon him.

"Gracious!" he exclaimed, starting up. "Where am I?"

It took several minutes before he could collect his senses and tell where he was; and then as he recalled the separation from his friends, he hurried out to the edge of the wood in the hope of discovering them somewhere near at hand; but, look in whatsoever direction he chose, nothing was to be seen but the broad sweeping prairie, stretching away until sky and earth joined in the distance. Far off, low down in the horizon, the blue wavy outline of a mountain spur was to be seen. Miles and miles away, it would probably require days of traveling before it could be reached.

"That's strange!" murmured Ned, as a feeling of alarm began stealing over him. "Where can Tom and Dick be? They must be somewhere in this neighborhood, and yet I cannot see any signs of them."

He moved around the grove, carefully gazing in every direction; but after making the complete circuit he came back without having detected anything that told him what had become of his friends.

The grove in which he had taken shelter abounded with undergrowth, so dense in many places, that he made his way with considerable difficulty. He had no thought of any one else being in the same place, but, while moving along in his careless manner, he was aroused to a sense of imprudence by the sound of something on his right. Turning his head, his surprise may be imagined when he saw a solitary buffalo standing scarcely a dozen feet distant, and staring straight at him. Ned was so astonished that for the moment he forgot that he carried a loaded gun, and stared at the creature in turn, the two forming as striking a tableau as it is possible to imagine.

The buffalo may have known the capacity of the weapon which the boy carried in his hand, for, with a sniff of alarm, he wheeled and started away on a run. As quick as thought the lad seemed to awake to a sense of his situation, and, raising his gun, he blazed away.

The shot, fired at random, could not have been better aimed by the most veteran of hunters. The ball entered directly behind the fore-leg just as it was thrown forward in the act of running, and, penetrating to the heart, the result was that the animal never made another bound. His own momentum carried him a few feet forward, when he tumbled and rolled over in a heap.

"Now I'll have a meal!" exclaimed the delighted lad, as he ran forward to claim his prize. "I feel as if I could eat the whole buffalo."

There seemed to be no reason why he should not provide himself with the most substantial kind of dinner. He knew very little about a buffalo, but it was no difficult task to cut off a good sized piece, which he placed upon some green leaves, while he looked about for some means of starting a fire.

"Well, there!" he exclaimed in delighted amazement, "if that isn't the most wonderful thing yet!"

This exclamation was caused by the sight of a smoking wad lying at his very feet, just as if Providence had sent it that he might be provided with the indispensable fire. Picking it up and blowing it, he saw that it was in a vigorous state, and could be utilized without trouble. A few leaves were hurriedly gathered together, dried twigs placed upon these, and then the tiny blaze that required considerable blowing to produce, was carefully nursed into a larger one until a good roaring, crackling fire was the result.

Leaving this to burn by itself, Ned took the meat to the side of the stream, where he carefully washed and dressed it, ready for cooking. When this was completed, he skewered it upon some green twigs, and began toasting it. The process was rather tardy, but as soon as a bite of the meat had spluttered and crisped for a moment, Ned bit it off, and went to masticating it. The cooking continued rapidly enough to keep his jaws going, and was a good arrangement, for it prevented his eating too fast, and gave him the fullest enjoyment imaginable of the meal. All of an hour was occupied in this way, during which Ned was in as happy a frame of mind as can be conceived. For the first half of the time he seemed to be growing more hungry with each mouthful he swallowed. Then came a standstill, and soon he began to gain upon it, the end being that he thoroughly satisfied that appetite which at one time had seemed unappeasable. With no further necessity of thinking of the wants of the inner man, the lad began to debate as to what he should do to get out of the rather unpleasant position in which he was placed. There he was, his horse gone, his two friends missing, and himself still a long distance from home. He knew not in what direction to turn to reach Fort Havens, and, even if he did, he had little assurance of ever reaching it. Indeed, with the exception of the rather important fact that he had secured possession of a rifle and some ammunition, it may be said that his position was very similar to what it was before he came across Dick Morris and Tom Hardynge.



CHAPTER XXVI.

CAPTURING A MUSTANG.

It struck Ned that there was something very strange in the continued absence of the two hunters.

In thinking over the particulars of that rather curious buffalo hunt, he could not believe it possible that he was more than two miles from where he had made his start after the creature, and where he separated from them. All three were upon the easterly side of the herd, so that the trail made by his own animal could not have been obliterated by the hoofs of the buffaloes, and nothing could be easier than to follow it. Where, then, were they? What was the cause of their absence? These were questions which he asked himself again and again, and which he was unable to answer in any manner satisfactory to himself.

Suddenly it occurred to him that by climbing one of the trees near at hand, he might extend his view, and perhaps gain a portion of the knowledge he was so desirous of obtaining. He acted upon the thought at once, and, selecting the tallest, first concealed his rifle, and then climbed to the very topmost branches. There he was rewarded by a magnificent view, and one which promised him some of the results he was seeking. With this extension of his field of vision he discovered more than one evidence that he was not in a solitude. In the first place, by looking to the southward, a mass of dust and vapor was visible, indicating the presence and progress of some sort of herd, perhaps a drove of sheep from New Mexico, under the convoy of Indians who had shot the rightful owners and stampeded their property. Looking westward, another clump of trees was discerned, from the center of which came just enough smoke to show that there must be a camp fire beneath.

"I'll bet they are there!" exclaimed Ned, to himself, "and it may be they have started the fire on purpose to guide me to them."

The point to which his attention was thus directed was no more than a mile distant, and he wondered that he had not noted it before. It resembled in many respects the one in which he passed the night, and he saw from the course of the stream which ran through the latter, that it most probably watered the former where he believed the hunters were in camp.

Turning his eyes in another direction, the young wanderer was greeted by a sight which agitated him scarcely less. There, no more than a quarter of a mile distant, quietly grazing beside the winding stream which flowed at the base of the tree, was the very mustang which had been captured by the hunters and from whose back he had been thrown when in pursuit of the buffalo. He instantly lost all interest in the smoke of the camp fire in the greater interest he felt in the question of securing possession of the steed. Could he but remount him he would not care particularly whether he met the hunters or not, for, once upon the back of such a steed, he would consider himself competent to make the rest of the journey alone.

"What's to hinder?" he asked himself, as he fixed his eyes longingly upon the steed. "Dick says none of the Apaches have any animal that can overtake him, and all I have to do is to keep his head turned toward the southwest. There is a trail through the mountains yonder, and Corporal Hugg told me that there is a trail all the way. But can I catch him?"

He enjoyed in anticipation the pleasure he would feel when, possessing rifle, ammunition and horse he should resume his journey westward and the delight and joy of his father when he should clasp him in his arms again. He could have spent several hours building his air-castles in this manner, had he not checked himself and resolutely faced the difficulty before him. Looking again at the mustang, he was to be seen with his beautiful Indian blanket somewhat soiled from contact with the dirt, but cropping the grass with the air of an equine which expected to spend the day at it.

Ned decided to try and steal upon him from the rear, thinking, possibly, that he might get so close that when the frightened animal discovered him, he could step forward and grasp the bridle before the mustang could gallop away. Accordingly, he circled out upon the prairie until he got directly behind the animal, when he began his approach. The horse continued quietly eating until he was within a hundred feet, when he shifted his position so that his side was exposed. Startled lest he should be seen, Ned dropped down upon the grass and waited for him to resume his first attitude. After crouching in this manner for something like ten minutes, without any change taking place, he decided that as "the mountain would not come to Mohammed then Mohammed should go to the mountain," and he began crawling through the grass, with his eye upon his prize. To accomplish this without attracting notice was a delicate task, but he succeeded perfectly. Getting the mustang in exact range, he resumed his advance upon him, advancing until he was within twenty feet.

This was more favorable than he dared hope, and his heart beat high with expectation. He almost felt the warm body of the noble steed beneath him. And now, inch by inch, he stole forward, like an Indian scout moving upon a sleeping enemy until he could reach a point where he could bury his tomahawk in his skull.

"I wonder whether he will use those heels upon me?" reflected the lad, when he had reduced the intervening distance to a dozen feet. "If he were only blind in one eye, and I could get upon that side; but then he isn't."

It seemed to him that the greatest danger was the mustang hearing the throbbing of his heart, which was now beating like a trip-hammer; but the horse was as unconscious as if he were made of stone. Still nearer, until it appeared as if he had to make but a single leap forward, and he could grasp the long, flowing tail, and he felt that the moment had come when he must make the attempt. Crouching with one hand thrust out, he lifted one foot and advanced a few inches. Another step, and he could lay his hand upon him. At this exciting juncture, the horse abruptly ceased eating and raised his head. Ned saw it, and paused in an agony of suspense.



Looking straight off upon the prairie, the mustang gave a faint whinney, as if he scented danger from a point directly opposite to where the figure of the boy was stealing upon him. For a minute the two held these stationary positions; and then, as the lad moved a few inches again, the keen ears of the mustang told him the truth.

Pricking his ears forward, he turned his head half way round, so that he saw the crouching figure directly at his heels. Then he turned his head still further, and gathered himself for a leap. But Ned was expecting this; and, as quick as a flash, he leaped forward and caught the tuft of hair hanging over his forehead, dropping his gun and seizing at the same moment, with the other hand, the bridle-rein. The mustang made his leap, but the lad held on, and, by a quick, powerful effort threw one leg over his shoulders and slid upon his back in a twinkling. The horse was outwitted, defeated, and the boy was his conqueror.

"Hurrah!" shouted the latter, overflowing with exultation. "Thank the Lord! I've had better fortune than I expected."

The mustang was not an ugly-tempered creature, but would have given the lad the slip, could he have done so. It may have been that because he was nothing but a boy, he underestimated his capacity too much; but he had been fairly outgeneraled, and he submitted with a grace which cannot be too highly commended. He instantly became docile, and turned in ready obedience to the rein, and trotted back to where the gun lay upon the ground. Here Ned was obliged to descend again, but he kept a tight grasp upon the strap, and scrambled back again as soon as he had recovered it. It seemed to him, as he did so, that there was something like a mischievous twinkle in the eye of the pony. He appeared to say:

"It don't do to trust my species too far, my lad; for we prefer to be free rather than slave. However, you are a brave little fellow, and have done so well that I think I must stand by you hereafter."

Now that Ned was himself again, he turned the head of his animal toward the grove, where the thin smoke could still be seen creeping up through the tree tops.

"I will have quite a story to tell Dick and Tom," he reflected, as he rode along at an easy gallop. "I killed my buffalo, lost my horse, and caught him again. I don't believe that they themselves could have done much better."



CHAPTER XXVII.

A RUN FOR LIFE.

A few minutes' ride at a swinging, easy, gallop brought Ned to the edge of the grove where the camp fire had first arrested his attention. As he reached the margin he threw himself from the back of the mustang, fastened the bridle-rein securely to a limb, and, with his rifle slung over his shoulder, strode forward toward the center. He was not yet in sight of the fire when it suddenly occurred to him that possibly he was mistaken. He checked himself and began moving very much as he did when approaching his mustang, and it was fortunate that he did so, for the next moment he discovered that he had committed a most serious mistake indeed. Instead of seeing the well-known figures of the hunters sitting by the camp fire and quietly smoking their pipes, he caught a glimpse of half a dozen warriors very similarly engaged.

Ned shuddered as he reflected how narrowly he escaped running into destruction, and then he crept forward until he could get a little better view. There they were, six Apache Indians lolling and lounging upon the grass. They had evidently returned from a long and wearisome ride, and were devoting the early portion of the day to rest, both for themselves and animals, which were picketed near at hand. The lad naturally wondered whether any of them belonged to Lone Wolf's band, and he crept nearer than was prudent in order to make certain.

"It may be that Lone Wolf himself is there," he reflected, drawn on by that strange fascination which often seizes a person at the proximity of some dreaded danger. "It would be queer if the chief had crossed my path again."

By and by, after moving along for some distance upon his hands and knees, he secured a favorable point, where, by waiting a few minutes, he was able to gain a view of all the faces. They were all strangers. He had never seen any of them before.

"That's good," he said to himself, as he began retrograding, "they won't be expecting me—"

At this juncture, one of the Indian horses, a short distance away, raised his head and whinnied. It was instantly responded to by the mustang which Ned had ridden to the place. The Apaches very naturally noticed this significant fact, and started to their feet to learn what it meant. Terribly alarmed at the unexpected mishap, Ned sprang up, not daring to trust the tardy, crab-like gait he was following, and, regardless of discovery, dashed away as hard as he could run in the direction of his steed. He could not mistake the true course, for the animal seemingly aware that something was wrong, kept up a continual whinnying, that guided him as unerringly as it did the Apaches who were hurrying after him. A few seconds and the boy stood beside the creature, which showed, by its excited manner, that he was as desirous as his master to leave the spot. He was tugging at the rein so lustily that it threatened to break every instant, and Ned trembled at the fear that he would be left alone.

The impatient, eager haste with which the rein was unfastened, the seemingly impossibility of getting the loosely fastened knot untied, the little obstructions that constantly obtruded themselves—these cannot be described nor imagined. It would have been unnatural in the highest degree had Ned not found himself "nervous." He was ready to yield to despair more than once, and what were really seconds were as many minutes to him. The Indians could be heard moving through the undergrowth, their progress cautious as it always is when they have reason to fear that enemies are close at hand.

It was this deliberation which gave Ned his only chance. The rein was unfastened at last, and, with a desperate effort he mounted the mustang, which came very near bounding from beneath him while in the act of springing upward, and, turning his head toward the southwest, the very direction he wished to follow, Chadmund struck his sides with his heels, gave a regular Indian shout and was off. The steed scarcely needed all this to incite him to his highest efforts. Stretching out his neck, he sped away like an arrow, while the young rider constantly urged him to still greater effort. But no urging was required. The fleet-footed courser was already going with the speed of the wind.

Scarcely had he gotten under way, however, when the crack! crack! of rifles was heard, and the singing of bullets around his ears told the fugitive at whom they were aimed. He instantly threw himself forward upon the neck of the mustang, and shouted again, in a voice that must have been heard by the redskins themselves:

"Go it, my horse! Don't let them catch us! We mustn't lose now!"

One or two more shots were heard, and then all was quiet again.

"We've got beyond their range," concluded the boy, "and there's no need of wasting their powder on us."

Still he remained with his head bent on the neck of his animal, the latter upon a dead run, until they had gone a considerable distance further. Then believing all peril past, he drew him down somewhat, for the gait was more trying to him than to the steed himself, and it was simply prudent to husband his strength, when there was no necessity of putting it forth.

For the first time since starting, Ned turned and surveyed the ground over which he had passed. The view was not a reassuring one by any means. Instead of seeing the Apaches standing in mute despair upon the margin of the grove, and staring in wonder at his flight, he saw instead the whole party mounted and in full pursuit. They were adopting what seemed to him a strange course. Instead of charging along in a body, they were separating and spreading out like a fan.

"I wonder what it is for," said the fugitive to himself, as he urged his horse to a renewal of the arrowy speed he had shown at the beginning.

When he came to reflect upon it more fully, he divined the cause. The Apaches had recognized in him a prize worth striving for, and had set about it in their usual cunning fashion. By separating in this manner, they could close in again whenever they chose, and at a time, too, when it might be out of the power of the fugitive to escape by means of the superior speed of his horse. If he should turn to the right or left, or to the rear, he would come in collision with some of them, whereas, if they remained in a compact body, and he should find his way shut in front, he might elude them by turning to either side.

Such was young Chadmund's solution of their actions, and such, undoubtedly, was the true one. He looked ahead; but all remained open and clear. Only far away in the very horizon could be seen that blue, misty outline of some mountain chain, seemingly hundreds of miles in advance.

"It can't be that that is the place," he mused, as he looked ahead; "that is too far to be reached before to-morrow, and between now and then I shall have plenty of chances to give them the slip."

But the mountains were to be crossed at some time or other, and those Apaches were likely to follow him with the persistency of bloodhounds. The mere fact that he had distanced them at the beginning, and obtained such a favorable start, was no evidence that he was to be relieved from further danger, even after the night should have come and gone. But Ned enjoyed to the full the thrilling pleasure of observing that he was steadily and rapidly drawing away from his pursuers. Every few minutes, when he looked back, he could see they were dropping further and further behind. His gain in this respect was clearly perceptible to himself, and when, at the end of an hour or more, he observed that the Apaches had ceased the effort to overhaul him, he could scarcely repress his exultation.

"They made a good selection!" he exclaimed, alluding to the steed which the hunters had taken from the Indians in the mountains. "They could not have done better."

Drawing his mustang down to a dead halt, he carefully scanned the prairie behind him. Only three of his pursuers were visible, and, if his eyes did not deceive him, they were turning back. A few minutes careful scrutiny assured him of the fact. He had outwitted the redskins again.

"Now, you may rest yourself, my pet," he said to his horse, fondly patting the neck of his steed.

"You have done nobly, and I feel like trusting you alone to graze."

As near as he could judge it was close upon noon, and his animal was in need of rest, although capable of continuing his arrowy flight until the sun should sink in the west. It was wise to indulge him all he could, and for the next two hours he was permitted to walk at a moderate gait. At the end of that time he headed toward a ravine, in which a few stunted trees were growing, and where he hoped to find grass and water. He did not forget the lesson he had learned, and before trusting himself in the inviting shade and coolness, he carefully circled about the place until assured that no peril lurked there, when he rode forward at the same leisurely pace.

He was yet a hundred yards distant, when his mustang abruptly paused of his own accord, pricking up his ears as if he scented danger.

Ned urged him, and he advanced a few steps, and then halted again, raising high his head and snuffing the air, accompanied at the same time by a peculiar stamp of the foot.

"There must be something wrong," thought the boy in alarm.



CHAPTER XXVIII.

A GREAT MISFORTUNE.

Ned Chadmund was too wise to go contrary to the instincts of the mustang, which, at such a time knew more than did he of the dangers of the country. The boy, however, supposed that it was some wild animal, probably a grizzly bear, which alarmed the steed. He wondered however, that if such were the fact, why the brute did not give some more tangible evidence of his presence. He sat for a moment debating whether he should make an attempt to enter the wooded ravine from another direction. He had fixed upon this place as the one in which to spend a couple of hours or more, and as no similar resting-place was in sight, he was reluctant to start ahead again. But something whispered to him that the best thing he could do would be to leave without an instant's delay. That strange stillness resting upon those stunted trees and undergrowth had a meaning more significant than anything in the shape of a grizzly bear.

"Come, Pet, we're off again."

The mustang wheeled to one side, and bounded away with the old speed, which was more enjoyable to him than a moderate pace. At the very instant of doing so, a mounted Apache shot out from the far end of the ravine, and his horse bounded directly across the path of the young fugitive. The steed of the latter saw the game so well that he needed no direction, and he turned with such suddenness that Ned narrowly escaped being thrown off his back. Quick as he was he had scarcely time to change the direction he was pursuing, when the rider, to his dismay, observed a second Apache issue from the other end of the ravine, and thus, in a twinkling, as it may be said, he was placed between two fires.

It all took place with such marvelous suddenness that the lad was completely baffled and bewildered, and, not knowing what to do, wisely left the course of action to the mustang. At the same moment, he comprehended how it was that, while he assured himself that he had outwitted the Apaches, they had completely checkmated him. Their falling back and giving up the chase was simply a ruse to throw him off his guard. It had succeeded to perfection. While he was plodding along over the prairie, the Apaches had circled around, gone ahead of him, and, ensconcing themselves in the woods, had patiently waited for him to ride into their arms.

The sagacious mustang made another quick whirl, and shot to the right, aiming to pass directly between the two horsemen. Seeing this, they both did their best to head him off. At the best it was to be a narrow chance, and Ned again threw himself forward and clasped his arms about the neck of the faithful pony. He could not shut out the sight of his ferocious pursuers, and as the three neared each other with the speed of the whirlwind, he observed that each was loosely swinging several coils of rope about his head. He knew what that meant. Determined upon capturing him, they were about to call the lasso into requisition.

But they could not "noose" him when his head was thrown forward in this fashion, and resting closely against the soft mane of the mustang. He was certain of that, for there was nothing for the spinning coil to seize. And yet he saw distinctly the warrior who was nearest him whirling the thong in swifter and swifter circles above his head in a way that showed that he meant to fling it at something.

What could the target be?

Whiz—whiz! Out shot the loop like the dart of a rattlesnake, not at the head of the frightened lad, but at that of the mustang!

Ah! but the animal was intelligent and equal to the occasion. That round, clear eye saw what was coming, and he was ready.

The loop, guided with unerring precision, and thrown with great power, was scarcely over the ears of the creature, when he dropped his head like a flash. The coil, instead of passing over his nose, dropped like a tossed wreath upon the top of his head, slid along his neck, and over the crown and back of Ned Chadmund, who shivered as if he felt the squirming of a cobra along his spine. The mustang burst into a tremendous gait at this moment, and was drawing away from his pursuers so rapidly that the lasso dropped off his haunches and the flying pony was almost instantly beyond its reach.

But the second Apache was near at hand and threw his thong from a closer point, and with a venomous spitefulness that would not be evaded. He evidently knew the horse, and was determined upon securing him. The wonderful mustang, however, was equal to the occasion, and, with the same flash-like motion, his beautiful head dropped still lower than before, and the same useless sliding along his back was repeated.

His speed was now tremendous, and he drew away so rapidly from both horsemen that neither of them gained a second opportunity to try the lasso upon him. Ned did not seek to control the motions or direction of the noble steed. It knew better than did he what to do, and the boy only clung to him the tighter, and prayed to Heaven to guard them both from harm.

It was not to be expected that the Apaches would submit quietly to be baffled in this manner. Unable to capture either horse or rider, they still had their rifles, and did not hesitate to call them into requisition the moment it became apparent that no other recourse was at their command.

At the moment of firing perhaps fifty yards separated pursuer and pursued. The two guns were discharged so nearly simultaneously, that they might have well been mistaken for one. The escape of Ned was a narrow one. He felt one of the bullets pierce his clothing, and a sting in the hand told him that he had been slightly wounded. At the same moment he felt a peculiar twitch or quiver of the steed, which indicated that he also had been hit. It was like the jar of the smoothly-moving machinery when some slight obstruction gets into the works. Still there was no abatement of the tremendous speed of the magnificent little animal, and Ned concluded that the hurt was not a serious one. A minute later two more reports were heard, but they were faint and far away, and the bullets sped wide of the mark.

All danger was passed from that quarter, and once more Ned straightened up, and, looking about him, felt that the Indian mustang he bestrode had been the means of saving his life. But for him he would have been in the hands of the Apaches long since.

"I wonder whether there are Indians in every bush?" he said, as his eyes roamed over the prairie in search of some place of shelter. "They seem to be watching for me from every tree in the country. Well, my good horse, we shall have to keep on the go till dark comes, when we'll get some chance to creep off and hide."

Looking to the southward, a wooded section was to be seen, but Ned concluded to give all such places a wide berth for the present. He had missed recapture by too narrow a chance to risk it blindly again. A long distance to the northwest he discerned a range of hills of moderate elevation, and it occurred to him that there was a suitable place in which to spend the coming night. By journeying forward at this easy, swinging pace, he calculated upon reaching them about nightfall, and in the shelter which they offered he was confident of being able to hide away beyond the vision of the most vigilant Apache or Comanche.

"What has become of those fellows?" he abruptly asked himself, as his eye glanced hastily around in search of the hunters from whom he had now been separated the better portion of twenty-four hours. "I can't understand how we got so far apart. If they meant the whole thing as a joke, I think it is played out by this time."

He was a little nettled when he came to reflect that the parting was probably arranged by Dick and Tom for the purpose of giving him a lesson in prairie traveling and prairie life. Perhaps they believed that some amusement might be obtained in this way.

"If they think I can't get along without 'em, I'll show them their mistake," he said to himself. "There can't be many days' travel between me and Fort Havens, and so long as I've got such a horse—he knows better than they can how to keep me out of such scrapes—"

At this juncture he was startled by the action of the mustang. He was walking along, when he began staggering from side to side. Then he paused, as if to steady himself. A groan followed and he sank heavily to the ground, rolling upon his side so quickly that his rider narrowly escaped being crushed beneath him. And then, as the dismayed Ned sprang to his feet, he saw that his loved mustang was dead!



CHAPTER XXIX.

THE LONE CAMP FIRE.

When the pursuing Apaches first fired their two shots, one of them slightly wounded the hand of young Chadmund, while the other, unsuspected by the lad, buried itself in the body of the mustang and inflicted a fatal wound. It was characteristic of the noble creature that his indomitable courage should remain to the last. He kept up his astonishing speed until his rider voluntarily checked him, and then his gait remained his natural one until nature succumbed and he dropped dead.

It would be hard to say which emotion was the most poignant in the breast of the young wanderer. He had learned to love the noble mustang during their brief companionship, and he had discovered, too, how impossible it was for him to make any substantial progress without a good horse to ride. He had lost the best steed he had ever bestrode, and was again thrown upon his own resources. It was natural and creditable to the lad that, as he looked at the fallen steed, and reflected how faithfully he had served him, his hands should seek his eyes. So they did, and he spent full ten minutes in a regular old-fashioned cry, such as he had not enjoyed since receiving a good trouncing at the hands of his parent.

When his grief had subsided somewhat, he bade the unconscious form good-bye, and with his rifle over his shoulder started ahead again. He could not bear even to remove the blanket which was strapped around the body of the mustang, and which was likely to be of great service to him in his wanderings.

It was already growing dark, when he aimed for the hills, and, as his eye swept over the the prairie, he saw no Indian or sign of danger. He was hopeful that for the time being, at least, he was free from molestation. His greatest trouble was, that he was ravenously hungry again, and he counted upon considerable difficulty in securing the wherewithal with which to satisfy his cravings. True, he had gun and ammunition, but the game which he wished to meet seemed to be, as a rule, reluctant to put itself within his reach.

After reaching the hills, the lad's next proceeding was to hunt up some suitable spot in which to pass the night. The air was so warm and sultry that he could have made no use of the blanket, had he possessed it. The place was full of stunted trees and undergrowth, with jagged, irregular masses of stone lying here and there, and constantly obtruding themselves in such a way that he received a number of severe bruises.

After tramping about for a short time he discovered that the hills were mainly in the form of a ridge, passing over the crest of which he went down the opposite slope and found himself among a mass of larger rocks, and in a still wilder section. There, while searching, it occurred to him that he might find a suitable retreat among the rocks. The sound of trickling water directed his steps a little to the left, where a tiny rivulet was found dripping down from the dark stones. After quenching his thirst he renewed his hunt.

Although he continued for some time, he was not as successful as he desired. Nothing in the shape of a regular cavern presented itself, and he finally nestled down beside one of the largest rocks which could be discovered, with the intention of sleeping until morning.

Ned thought it strange that he should feel so frightened. With the gathering of darkness he grew so nervous that all possibility of sleep was driven away. He examined his rifle several times—a curious mistrust taking possession of him—and then arose to his feet and listened.

All seemed as quiet as at creation's morn. There was a soothing influence in the faint sound of the dripping water, and an almost inaudible roar seemed to steal forth from the great prairie, such as is sometimes noted when in the vicinity of the becalmed ocean. Without any thought he thrust his hand into an inner pocket, when he felt a small package wrapped up in paper. Wondering what it could be, he drew it forth.

It was a box of matches!

Suddenly he remembered how they came there. On the day before leaving Santa Fe it occurred to him that he would be likely to need such a convenience, and he had carefully wrapped up a box and placed it in this out-of-the-way corner, where it had lain forgotten.

"That's lucky!" exclaimed the delighted lad, as he drew them out, recognizing them more by the touch than by sight. "Now I'll build a big fire, and fix things splendidly."

A fire was his great desideratum, and, had he believed it possible without great trouble and work, he would have kindled one before that. The capture of a new horse could have pleased him scarcely more than the discovery of the matches, and he set about reaping the advantage at once.

In such a place there was little difficulty in procuring fuel, and it took Ned but a short time to gather all he could possibly need; but, to guard against all contingencies, he continued collecting until he had a huge pile, made up of dead limbs, branches, and a number of green sticks thrown in. In a few minutes the flames were under way. He had kindled them against the face of a rock, and they burned with a cheery heartiness that did much to dispel the gloom which had begun settling over him. He seated himself as near the fire as he could without being made uncomfortable by the reflected heat, and then he assumed as easy a position as was possible in such a place.

"I wonder if anybody will see that?" he asked himself in a whisper, after it had continued burning some time.

Rising and reconnoitering the ground, he was gratified to learn that the light was better screened than he had reason to expect, considering the carelessness with which he had kindled it. The rock at the rear shut off all view from that direction, while the undergrowth was so matted and dense in front, that it seemed impossible for any one to see it from the prairie. Having made this survey, he returned to his position, feeling much easier in mind than before.

"Strange what has become of Dick and Tom," he muttered, following up this train of thought, as usual whenever he was left undisturbed for a few minutes. "Can it be that they have been killed by the Apaches? It might be, and yet I don't know how it could happen, either."

He was still meditating upon this ever-interesting query, when he was roused to a sense of his situation by the sound of something trampling through the bushes behind him.

"Indians!" he exclaimed, springing to his feet, rifle in hand, and casting his terrified glance in the direction from whence came the sound.

The words were yet in his mouth, when he felt that he had committed a blunder. No Indian would approach in that manner.

"It must be some animal," was his conclusion, as he stepped back, so as to bring himself as close to the fire as possible.

The next moment, a huge, dark, unwieldy body advanced from the gloom with a growl, and he saw an immense grizzly bear lumbering toward him. As quick as thought his rifle was at his shoulder, and he fired full at him, the distance being so short that he could not fail to hit the mark; but the wound, however severe it might have been, was not fatal, and did not deter bruin's advance in the least. Knowing that it would be sure death if he were once seized by the powerful monster, and aware of the dread which all animals have of fire, he dropped his gun and caught up a blazing brand, which he flung in the very face of the brute.

This was more than a bear, as courageous as was this giant grizzly, could stand, and he retreated with an awkward haste which was ridiculous. For the instant he was panic stricken, and continued falling back until he was invisible in the gloom. But he was not disposed to give up the contest by any means. Ned knew he would be back again, and fortified himself as well as possible by hugging his own camp fire, stooping down and holding himself ready to hurl another torch in the brute's face if he should persevere in his attack.

For several minutes all was quiet, and he began to hope that his fright was such that he would keep at a respectful distance. Such was not the case, however. A growl from another direction warned him that the brute was about to advance from that quarter. The lad peered out into the gloom, wondering whether the creature would eventually overcome his dread to such an extent as to press him to the wall. At any rate, he was not disposed to wait and hastily ran around to the other side of the blaze, by which maneuver it was interposed directly between him and his enemy.

"I wonder what he will do now?"



CHAPTER XXX.

FIGHTING A GRIZZLY.

The grizzly could not fail to detect the ruse of the boy, and he countered by moving around to the other side of the fire, so that he regained his former advantage. The nocturnal visitor had evidently set his mind upon making his supper upon the little chap, whose plump, robust appearance must have been a very tempting bait to him. The latter was reluctant to repeat his maneuver, as, by doing so, he would be forced to pass so near his foe that a big paw might reach out and grasp him while on the way.

"I'll have to fight you with fire," he said, as he seized a large stick, one end of which was blazing.

In the hope that he might give him a greater scare than before, the lad swung it rapidly around his head until it was fanned into a roaring flame. While this was going on, he was surrounded, as it appeared, by a fiery circle, his appearance being such that the bravest quadruped living could not have been induced to approach within his reach. Not content with this, Ned assumed the aggressive. Stooping low, he emitted a wild yell, and repeating this, pointed the torch forward and toward him, moving it more rapidly and in a smaller circle, while at the same time he kept slowly advancing upon him.

No bear could be expected to withstand such a demonstration. The figure of the yelling urchin, with his head surrounded by a blazing serpent, must have struck terror to his very inmost being. Without pausing to do more than to utter a short growl, he wheeled around and went crashing through the undergrowth as if under the belief that a battery had been suddenly unmasked and was about to open upon him. When he had retreated a few rods he paused to see how matters appeared, when he again beheld the horrid figure closer than ever and drawing nearer every moment. It was appalling, and he plunged away at a greater speed than ever. Ned pursued him until he was fearful of getting so far away from the camp fire that he would lose it altogether. When he paused he could hear the bear still tramping off, as if he already felt the torch blistering his nose. Turning again, the lad ran with all speed to his "headquarters," where he flung down his torch and caught up his gun.

"Now I think I've got time to load it," he said, as he began the operation at once, a little alarmed, however, to discover that the supply of ammunition furnished him by Tom Hardynge was growing alarmingly small.

He succeeded in ramming the charge home, and then as he placed the cap upon the tube, he felt something of the old confidence that was his when astride the mustang and coursing over the prairie at a speed which no horse could equal. When first charged upon by the monster he had fired with such haste that he had no time to make any aim; now fortified by his camp fire, he meant to improve upon that. Everything being ready, he looked off into the gloom, but nothing was to be seen of the creature, nor did the slightest sound betray his whereabouts.

"He'll be sneaking back pretty soon," said the lad to himself, who was resolved to remain on the watch.

He was not kept waiting. A minute later he caught the slow crackling and trampling of some heavy creature through the undergrowth, and he was confident that his old enemy was close at hand. The lad sank down upon one knee, so close to the fire that it scorched him, and awaited his approach. But the grizzly had been so thoroughly scared that he hadn't entirely recovered from it. When something like twenty feet away he halted, and evidently began debating whether it would be prudent to approach.

Chadmund could not make out his figure distinctly, although he knew precisely where he was; but, by and by, when the head moved a little, he caught the phosphorescent glitter of the eyes. As the fire light shone upon the gun-barrel he wanted no better opportunity, and, supporting the weapon upon one knee, he pointed it straight at the center—that is, directly between those glowing orbs, which remained stationary, as if in waiting for the fatal messenger. It came the next moment. True to its aim, the tiny sphere of lead entered the head of the bear at the most vulnerable point, and the life went out from that huge mass. A rasping growl, a few spasmodic throes, and it was all over.

Ned was naturally exultant over his exploit, and he reflected that if matters went on in the same fashion, he could soon lay claim to being quite a hunter. He had shot an Indian, a buffalo, and a grizzly bear, besides performing some other exploits not always accomplished by men.

"I guess the best plan is to load again," he muttered, as he adopted this precautionary measure. "That isn't the only grizzly bear in the country."

By this time the fire was running down, and the lad, throwing some more fuel upon it, seated himself directly in front, prepared to watch for further visitors. He had scarcely ensconced himself in this position when his hair fairly rose on end at hearing a low but distinct, growl, proving that some other unwelcome caller was about to pay him his respects.

He hurriedly looked in every direction, but could see nothing to explain the cause of this alarming manifestation. It was so different from the warning uttered by the grizzly that he knew it must be some other sort of creature. Holding his rifle ready for instant use, he glanced hurriedly about him, but, although the camp fire was throwing out a long stream of light, no sign of an animal could be detected.

"I'm sure I heard something," he repeated, still wondering and looking around in search of the cause. "Hello! there it goes again. It sounds as if it were somewhere up in the air—it is in the air!"

The fire had been kindled against the face of a rock. This rock rose perpendicularly a dozen feet above the ground below, where the fire was burning, and where the lad was standing. As he looked up he saw the gaunt figure of a large mountain wolf standing on the very edge of this, looking down upon him, its lank jaws distended, its eyes glaring, and its whole appearance that of a ferocious beast about to leap down upon his head. The suggestion was so startling, that Ned uttered an exclamation of terror, and leaped back several feet.

It must be that when a wild beast comes across a boy, he concludes that even though he carries a gun there is nothing to be feared from him. The grizzly bear had shown a sublime indifference to Ned's capacity, and his life had paid the forfeit. And now, although the mountain wolf must have seen him raise that rifle and point it as straight as the finger of fate directly at him, he paid no attention to it whatever; but there he stood, snarling and growling, and on the very point of leaping.

Suddenly there was a short, sharp crack, and it was all over with the wolf. He must have gathered himself for a leap at that very moment; for the bullet that bored his brittle skull through and through did not prevent an outward bound. A faint yelp and the creature bounded full a dozen feet directly out from the rock, and, owing to some curious quirp of the muscles, turned a complete somerset, and would have landed directly upon the head of Ned if he hadn't sprung to one side as the carcass fell to the ground.

"That settles your case," remarked the boy, with the indifference of an old hunter. "Now it's time to load up again."

This done he settled himself to watch and listen and play the part of his own sentinel for the rest of the night. A faint moaning of the night-wind was all that reached his ears. Once he fancied he heard the report of a gun far away in the distance, but it was so faint that he might have been mistaken. Then a cry, somewhat resembling that made by a panther, was borne on the wind, but that, too, seemed to come from the mountains that were miles away to the westward. No sound indicated the presence of any further danger close at hand. Everything was quiet, and seemingly at rest.



CHAPTER XXXI.

SLEEP.

The sentinel on his rounds, the watchman upon his beat, or the sailor pacing the deck of his vessel in mid-ocean, keeps his senses awake by the constant motion of his body. To sit down to rest for a few minutes only is fatal. Sleep has the power of stealing over the faculties, and wrapping them up in its embrace so insidiously, that no watchfulness can guard against it unless artificial means, such as walking, are resorted to. When Ned Chadmund resumed an easy position in front of his own camp fire, the inevitable result followed. He resolved to keep his ears and eyes open, and almost immediately closed them. A few minutes passed and then his head began to nod. Several times he narrowly escaped tumbling over, and, finally rousing, he vigorously rubbed his eyes, yawned, and arose to his feet.

"My gracious! this won't do," he exclaimed, with a shuddering sense of the danger he was running. "A bear might steal right up to me and eat me up before I could help myself. If I'm going to play sentinel, I must do it like a man."

Straightway he began pacing back and forth in front of the blaze, his beat extending some twenty feet back and forth. He carried his rifle on his shoulder and proved the thoroughness of his vigilance by an occasional glance at the top of the rock, from which the mountain wolf had made its death leap. The coast remained clear. The far-off sounds which had attracted his attention a short time before were not repeated, and, as the labor of walking back and forth grew a little wearisome, he began to argue the question with himself.

"I wonder whether there isn't some way of resting without working? If I've got to walk all night, what shall I be good for to-morrow? I don't see any fun in this sort of business. Ah, I know how I'll fix it; I'll kindle two fires."

He acted upon the idea at once. He had gathered such an abundance of fuel that he had no fear of the supply running out. In a few minutes he had a second fire started, about a dozen feet from the other, while he stowed himself away directly between them. His position, he soon discovered, was rather warmer than he anticipated, but he speedily remedied this by permitting each fire to subside in a slight degree.

"This is nice," he muttered, shrinking up against the rock. "I don't think any wild creature would harm me unless he tumbled over the top of the rock there and dropped on my head. Even then I think I should wake up soon enough to use my gun on him. But then, I guess I won't go to sleep."

Five minutes later his head was nodding again, and utter unconsciousness speedily followed. But one of the brands in the fire on his right fell, and there was a slight crackling explosion of the embers—as is often the case. A glowing spark flew outward and dropped upon the limp hand of the sleeping youngster.

Simultaneously there was a yell, and the lad leaped several feet from the ground, dancing about like a rejoicing warrior and flinging his hand as if he were trying to shake off some clinging reptile.

"I should like to know who did that?" he exclaimed, a little confused by the startling manner in which he had been aroused. "I guess I understand how it all came about, though," he added, as he examined the stinging blister upon the back of his hand.

The pain from this little wound effectually banished all sleep for the time. Ned busied himself in replenishing the fire, and then walked out in the gloom and looked about. Everything was the same. The night was dark,—no moon being visible,—and an oppressive sultriness was in the atmosphere. It seemed as if some elemental disturbance were close at hand, but in looking to the sky no presage of it could be discovered.

After wandering about for some time, the lad spat upon some earth, and, plastering it over the smarting blister, succeeded in shutting out the air from it and secured considerable relief.

"It must be that I am all alone," he added, standing still and listening. "No one is near and no one sees me but God. He has taken care of me in the past, and He will not forsake me in future," he added, looking reverently upward.

The old feeling of drowsiness again stole over him and he determined to secure a night's rest—that is, during the portion of the night that remained. Still the fact that the fires had run down somewhat raised the inquiry in his mind as to what was likely to happen in case they went out altogether. If any more grizzly bears should put in an appearance, his situation would not be of the most inviting nature, but he had argued himself into the belief that no further peril of this character threatened. By placing a goodly amount of fuel upon the fires he hoped to keep them going until daylight, or until his slumber was over. Had he been able to find a suitable tree, he would have made his bed in that, even at the risk of another disagreeable fall, but nothing of the kind could be seen, and he had already grown weary of hunting for some hiding place among the rocks. Accordingly, the camp fires were replenished and he resumed his former position between them, covering his hands very carefully, lest another spark should drop in the same place.

"I wish it was colder!" he exclaimed, when he found the place growing uncomfortably warm. "If it was winter now, I shouldn't want anything nicer."

He stood it like a hero, however, and by and by his place became more pleasant, for the reason that the fuel was rapidly burning down. About this time sleep regained possession of his senses, and, cramped up though he was, with his back against the rock, his slumber was scarcely less sound than if he were stretched out upon his blanket beneath a tree in the forest.

At the time young Chadmund relapsed into unconsciousness it was nearly midnight, and for nearly two hours following there was scarcely the slightest change in the surroundings. The fires burned low, until the figure of the lad braced up against the rock grew dim and shadowy in the deepening gloom. Scarcely a breath of air stirred the vegetation about him, and everything seemed to be calculated to lull one into a deep, soothing, dreamless sleep. But at the end of the time mentioned, something came out of the undergrowth and advanced stealthily toward him. It was vague, shadowy, and so dimly outlined that at first its form could not be recognized; but as it glided closer to the fire, there was enough light remaining to disclose the figure of another wolf.

Like a phantom born of the gloom itself, it moved toward the unconscious lad, until scarcely a dozen feet intervened. Then, as if directed by Providence, one of the embers snapped apart, throwing out a sudden flame, which momentarily lit up the surrounding darkness. Like a flash the wolf slunk back, and then, pausing, stood and stared at the lad, licking his jaws as if in anticipation of the feast he expected to enjoy upon him.