forest looming up before him, he concluded that the time had about come
for him to disembark, and use his heels. But, prompted somewhat by
curiosity, he remained a while longer, until, before he was aware, he
discovered that the stream had debouched into a lake, nearly circular in
shape, and fully a couple of hundred yards in diameter. The impetus of
the current kept the tree moving slowly and still more slowly, until it
had reached a point near the middle, when it gradually settled down to a
complete standstill.

"That's odd!" exclaimed the lad, looking about him, and seeing the broad
sweep of water on every hand. "If I knew this I think I should have got
off."

It only remained for him to work his way to land, and this he began
doing by using his hands as paddles. It was slow progress; and he was of
the opinion that he had made a rather foolish blunder in permitting
himself to be "carried out to sea" in this fashion. He was disturbed
still further by the appearance of the sky. Dark, threatening clouds
were gathering and sweeping across it, frequently shutting out the light
of the moon and causing the most grotesque shadows to whisk over the
surface of the lake.

The indications were that a violent storm was close at hand, and he used
both hands with all the vigor at his command, and saw himself gradually
nearing land--the rate being so moderate that it could not keep pace
with his impatience. He was tempted more than once to leap into the
water and swim or wade ashore, but he restrained himself. On one of
these occasions, just as a heavy cloud approached the moon, and while
his raft was a dozen yards or so from shore, he was alarmed at sight of
something approaching him through the water. What it was he could not
conjecture, as it was low down, and very indistinct on account of the
gathering gloom.

As the cloud touched the moon and obscured the light, this suspicious
object disappeared, and he awaited with no little alarm the outcome of
the mystery. He was sitting motionless, looking and listening, when the
end of the tree was suddenly elevated a full foot, while the other
correspondingly descended.

With a gasp of terror, Ned clutched the limb near him and held on, not
knowing whither he was about to be flung. A muttering growl at the same
instant explained what it all meant, and he hastily retreated still
further upon the tree, expecting every moment to feel the claws of the
wild animal fastened upon him.

"It seems to me that these beasts are after me more than the Indians,"
was his thought, as he drew out his revolver, and awaited the necessity
of using it.

Further than placing his paws upon one end of the trunk, and giving out
a threatening growl, the animal did nothing for a few minutes, while the
boy, fully sensible of the value of his ammunition, was equally lacking
in offensive proceedings. Thus matters stood, while the great heavy
cloud floated slowly by the moon, and the head of the unwelcome stranger
gradually came to view.

It was some wild beast, beyond question, but it wasn't a bear. Its eyes,
shining with a phosphorescent glow, and the cavernous growling that
issued from the red jaws, made it seem the most frightful kind of a
monster. Hoping that it was not particularly hungry, Ned tried the scare
game again, flinging up his arms and shouting, and making noises
horrible enough to frighten any one to whom they remained unexplained.
In this case it succeeded admirably. The creature, whatever it was, must
have concluded that it was something besides a boy with which it had
taken passage, and, after indulging in one prolonged stare, dropped back
into the water and paddled straight for shore.

[Illustration: NED TRIED THE SCARE GAME AGAIN, FLINGING UP HIS ARMS AND
SHOUTING]

"I don't think Lone Wolf can follow me all along this route," concluded
the boy, as he resumed his paddling toward shore, and reached it in the
course of the next ten minutes. He had been cramped up in one position
so long that he felt the need of exercise, and started off at a rapid
pace, with no more idea of the precise direction he was following than
if he were blind.

The clouds sweeping across the sky grew heavier and darker, and the
wind, strong and chilling, soughed through the trees of the forest with
a dismal, wailing sound that would have frightened one of more years
than young Chadmund. Even he would have shrunk from the task of going
through the wood had the circumstances been different, but he was so
actuated by the one all-controlling desire of escape that he forgot the
real danger which encompassed him. Besides the risk of encountering the
Apaches, there was the ever-present peril from wild beasts and venomous
serpents. None of the latter as yet had disturbed him, but he was likely
to step upon some coiling reptile, unseen in the dark, whose sting was
certain death.

It soon became apparent that a storm of a most violent character was
about to burst forth. The wind grew stronger and colder, lightning
flashed athwart the darkening sky, and the thunder boomed with an
increasing power peculiar to warm countries. The wanderer had been
fortunate thus far in preserving himself from a ducking, and he was
still desirous of doing so. There was nothing to be gained by pressing
forward, and he began groping around for some kind of a shelter. This
was difficult to find, as the gloom was so dense that eyesight was
useless, and he could only use his hands.

"I guess I'll have to climb a tree," he thought, running his hand along
the bark of one.

But at this juncture he ran against a rock, striking with such violence
that he saw stars. As soon as he recovered he began an examination, and
was not a little pleased to find that under one portion of it there was
a hollow big enough for him to crawl in and protect himself from the
tempest. He had scarcely done so when the storm burst forth.

First a few large drops pattered upon the leaves, and then it seemed as
if the windows of Heaven had been opened. The rain descended in
torrents, the firmament flamed with a blinding intensity--and the earth
trembled with the reverberating thunder. The vivid sheets of electric
fire made the darkness and gloom deeper by contrast. The trees, with
their swaying branches, and the spear-like columns of rain, stood out
and vanished again so rapidly that the vision of the appalled lad was
dazzled and bewildered. The terrific shocks coming simultaneously with
the lightning, proved that the thunderbolts were falling all around him,
and again and again he thanked that Providence which had dissuaded him
from taking refuge in some of the trees.

_Crash!_

Directly in front of him, an immense giant of the forest was smitten
from top to base, the limbs, leaves, and splinters hurled in every
direction, as if a thousand pounds of powder had been exploded within.
The air was so surcharged with electricity that Ned felt the effect. A
prickling sensation down one entire side of his body was followed by a
partial numbness and paralysis that alarmed him. With his other hand he
hastily rubbed his limbs, and turned and twisted, fearing that he was
becoming helpless.

In a few minutes he regained the strength which had temporarily
departed, and then noticed that the storm was subsiding as rapidly as it
had arisen. The thunder died out in sullen mutterings; the lightning
flashed fitfully, often without any perceptible report following, and
the deluge diminished to a few drops.

"The storm is over, thank heaven!" he exclaimed. "As I have such a good
bed, I may as well stay here till morning."

But at this instant his blood almost froze at the sudden discovery of a
new and deadly peril.

CHAPTER XVI.

AMONG THE MOUNTAINS.

Young Chadmund heard the unmistakable warning of a rattlesnake that was
somewhere near him, and on the very point of striking. Precisely where
it was, it was impossible to determine with any certainty; but there was
no time to consider the matter. It seemed to him in that brief second he
devoted to thought that the venomous reptile lay a little to the left,
and he scrambled out of his place with all the celerity at his command.

The wonderful quickness of this usually sluggish snake, when about to
deal its deadly blow is well known, and, had the boy moved with twice
the rapidity that he did, Ned could not have escaped that lightning-like
dart of the snake, which was aimed straight at his foot, that being the
part of the body which was nearest his coil. The fangs struck the side
of his shoe, which happened to move at the very instant the blow was
made, and, piercing the leather, held the reptile fast,--"Hoist by his
own petard," as it were,--so that, when Ned scrambled out from his
shelter, he felt the horrid thing dangling at his heels.

With presence of mind hardly to be expected at such a time, he arose to
his feet, and holding the attached foot motionless, with the other he
hastily stamped all the life from the writhing rattlesnake. This done he
freed the shoe by a jerk, although it tore the fangs of the reptile from
its jaws.

"I think I'd better dust out of here," said the lad, breathlessly. "I
remember that Corporal Hugg told me that where you found one of those
things you are pretty sure of running against another close by, and I
don't care about seeing any, especially when it's so dark you can't see
at all."

He stepped carefully forth in the darkness, and, moving a few feet,
paused to listen. The rain had ceased falling entirely, and only the
faintest mutter of the distant thunder reached his ears. The darkness
was absolutely impenetrable, and the wind, as it soughed through the wet
branches, made the most dreary and dismal wailing--enough to strike
despair to the bravest heart.

The boy had listened but a moment when a slight rustling among the
leaves at his feet filled him with a sudden conviction that a second
rattlesnake was after him. He left the spot expeditiously, not halting
until he was sure that he was beyond reach of the unwelcome visitant,
which, it is well known, is not much given to pursuing its prey.

"Hang it!" he exclaimed, "there ain't much fun in this. I wish daylight
would come, so that I could see what to do."

His situation was exceedingly uncomfortable. Everything was soaked with
water, and he could not walk without shaking down the moisture from the
laden branches and undergrowth. He knew of but one place wherein he
could secure protection and that was beneath the rock where he had so
narrowly escaped the rattlesnake, but he was not very anxious to make
his way back there.

While he stood debating what to do, he noticed that the sky was rapidly
clearing, the black, tumultuous clouds rolling away from the face of the
moon, which soon shone out with all its wonted power. This was a vast
help, for, despite the dense shadows made by the heavy branches
overhead, he was able to see enough to pick his way and noticed that the
forest directly in front was quite open, indicating that he was close to
the termination. Thus encouraged, he pressed ahead and soon had the
satisfaction of finding that he was through the woods and on the border
of an open, rocky ravine, through which he could hear a stream rushing
with great violence, and which he took to be the outlet of the little
lake that had been overcharged by the recent severe storm. So far as he
could see by the moonlight, great masses of rock, boulders and broken
prairie stretched out before him, and he asked himself how he was to
make his way.

He concluded not to make the attempt just then, but, hunting out a place
among the rocks, he crawled into it, first making sure, by a careful
reconnaissance that no rattlesnakes had crept in ahead of him. He was
permitted to remain undisturbed through the night, and when he opened
his eyes the sun was shining directly in upon him. The boy then hastily
sprang up, his heart full of gratitude to God for the wondrous manner in
which his life had been preserved, and the remarkable success which had
followed his attempt at escape from the Apaches.

With the coming of the glorious sunlight, Ned naturally felt buoyant and
hopeful. He was not without considerable appetite, but he had eaten so
heartily, on the previous evening, that he felt that he could afford to
wait until night again; and he still had that impatient, almost
unreasoning desire to get forward, which made him feel like breaking
into a run, and keeping it up until he was out of breath.

But, young as was the little fellow, he was old enough to feel that the
time had come when he must use all the brains in his command. Up to that
hour, as will be understood, he had been journeying entirely at random,
his sole purpose being to get beyond reach of Lone Wolf and his band. He
had accomplished this, and a radical change of tactics must be made.

If Ned Chadmund had been a half dozen years older, he would have
recoiled at the prospect before him; but he was so young and full of
animal spirits that he did not really comprehend the difficulty and
danger. He had traveled very little more than half the distance between
Santa Fe and Fort Havens, and his purpose was to press ahead until the
latter was reached. To do this, it was necessary that he should make his
way through the mountains in which he now found himself, and then to
journey a couple of hundred miles through or over prairie, and across
streams, before he could reach the frontier post, where his father was
so anxiously awaiting his coming. The project seemed nothing short of
madness; but its justification lay in the fact that the wanderer had the
choice of attempting that or lying down and dying where he was. He could
do nothing but choose the former.

Ned climbed up to an elevated position and took an observation--his
purpose, after learning whether any present danger threatened, being to
learn the direction it was necessary to follow in order to reach Fort
Havens.

"Corporal Hugg told me that after we reached Devil's Pass, it was in a
straight line West. The trail winds in and out, as it has to do, but all
one had to do was to dig ahead, and he would be sure to come out right
in the end--that is, if the Indians and wild animals would only let him.
Well, right yonder rose the sun," he continued, very carefully
continuing his observation. "That must be the east, and all I have to do
is to keep that at my back until it gets over my head and wears round to
the front. So off we go."

There was one favorable accompaniment of this first thoughtful effort to
reach home. The valley-like depression that had caught his eye upon
rising ran precisely in the direction to be desired--due east and
west--so that he had the best facility in the world for getting through
the mountains. Still another favorable augury was that the general
direction pursued by the Apaches was the same, and the fact was, there
was very little still intervening between him and the open prairie
beyond. Should his progress remain uninterrupted through the day, by
nightfall he would be close to the prairie, which stretched away so many
miles in the direction of the frontier post.

"I don't think it's as much as two hundred miles," he said, as he
started off at a rapid walk. "I can make thirty miles a day, so that I
will be there at the end of a week, if nothing unexpected gets in the
way. Won't father be surprised when he sees me walk up, and won't I be
surprised if I manage to do it, also!"

CHAPTER XVII.

A MYSTERIOUS CAMP FIRE.

For a couple of hours young Chadmund had difficulty in traveling.
Despite the fact that he was in a sort of valley, with towering peaks
and bluffs upon either hand, a great many boulders and obstructions
obtruded themselves in his path, and he did some climbing, clambering,
and jumping that would have reflected no discredit upon a mountain goat.
The forenoon was about half gone, and he was felicitating himself upon
the excellent progress he was making, when he was brought up all
standing by finding himself upon the bank of a mountain stream, which
crossed his route exactly at right angles, issuing from the mountains on
the left with a rush and roar and pouring tumultuously forward with
irresistible power and velocity.

"I can't wade that," said the lad, scratching his head in perplexity,
"and it won't do to try and swim it. If I once got in there it would be
the last of me."

There could be no doubt of that, for the stream was fully twenty feet in
width, very deep, and sped forward like the volume of a river when
suddenly compressed into a mountain canyon. It was walled in on either
side by solid rock, the surface of the water being a couple of yards
below the level where he stood.

"I wonder whether I can't go round it?" he said, after spending some
time in mental debate. "It can't run all the way through the mountain,
but must start somewhere not very far away."

This was not a very plausible theory; but as nothing was to be gained by
standing still, he started out upon his tour of exploration. Better
success followed than he expected. He had started toward the head of the
stream and had clambered along less than a hundred yards, when he
reached a place where it was so narrow that he was confident of his
ability to leap across.

"Yes, I can do that," he said, approaching close to the edge and looking
over the boiling abyss to the solid rock upon the other side. "But
suppose I should miss my footing, wouldn't I catch it!"

It was a pretty good leap, but Ned was active, strong and swift, and he
had made many a longer leap than the one before him. For a minute longer
he stood, measuring the distance with his eye. Then going backward a few
steps, he suddenly ran forward with all the speed at his command, and,
concentrating all his strength, made such a leap that he cleared the
chasm by a couple of feet.

"There!" he exclaimed, with some satisfaction, "if none of the streams
are broader than that, I'll jump them all."

Still full of hope and in the best of spirits he pressed forward until
the sun was at the meridian and the heat became so oppressive that he
concluded to rest awhile. He was in a section of country where, at
certain seasons, the heat is like that of the Desert of Sahara. There
are portions of Arizona and Lower California where the fervor of the
sun's rays at noonday smite the earth with the withering power of the
sirocco.

At times, when Ned was down in the lowest portions of the valley, the
heat was almost intolerable; and then, again, when he clambered to the
top of some elevation, and the cool breezes from the upper regions
fanned his cheeks, it was like a draught of water to the fever-parched
patient.

He had lain on the ground under the protecting shadow of a rock but a
short time when his eye rested upon something which convinced him that
he was not the only one in the valley. Looking dreamily off toward the
west, up the valley, with the mountains sloping down on the right and
left, he noticed what at first seemed a thin bluish cloud, resting
against the sky. Then he observed that its form was a little out of the
usual order, it being column-shaped, tall, and like a shaft of almost
invisible vapor, thrown against the white background beyond.

"That ain't a cloud," he suddenly exclaimed, starting to his feet and
scrutinizing it more closely. "It's the smoke from a camp fire and I've
got to go right by it."

There could be no doubt of the truth of what he said, and he became
deeply interested.

"I wonder whether they're Indians or white men? I suppose it's most
likely they are Apaches, and they may be Lone Wolf and his companions.
I've got to keep a sharp lookout and keep from running into them. If
they are white hunters, that I've heard are sometimes in these
mountains, it will be a lucky thing for me."

Somehow or other he became impressed with the idea that the camp fire
ahead of him was that of friends instead of enemies--that the assistance
which he so sorely needed was thus placed within his reach. He had
learned, long before, that one is apt to miscalculate the distance when
placed as he was; but, making allowance for all that, he was confident
that the camp fire was not more than a mile away. Yielding to a natural
curiosity to learn its meaning, he shortened the hour which he had
intended to devote to rest, and started ahead again.

Once or twice it seemed to him that he had dropped into some sort of
trail, which he was following. Here and there were traces showing that
the route had been traveled before. It seemed to be one of those natural
roads or passes which are found at intervals in all great mountain
chains, and without which, many of of them for vast distances would be
literally impassable for man or animal.

The conviction that he was not the pioneer over that section caused the
young wanderer some misgivings and suggested several discomforting
questions. If Apaches had used the trail already, might not some of them
be upon it? If some of them were coming from the opposite direction, how
was he to avoid running into their arms? These queries were not of the
most cheerful character and they served to tone down the enthusiasm
which had marked his start in the morning. They also caused him to
examine, more times than was really necessary, the revolver which had
already done him such good service, and he went through a preliminary
drill, consisting of placing it inside his waistcoat, a couple of
buttons being left carelessly unfastened; next thrusting his hand
within, in an indifferent manner, then instantly jerking out and
pointing the weapon at an imaginary foe in front of him. This maneuver
he repeated scores of times, narrowly escaping the firing of the weapon,
until he satisfied himself that he could do it to perfection.

"Now, if Lone Wolf comes at me alone, I think I can manage him. He won't
suspect that I've any weapon, and so won't be prepared for it; but I
hope he won't show himself," he added the next minute. "If there's any
way of avoiding him, I'll do it."

However, he was bent upon solving the mystery of the distant camp fire,
which he still hoped might belong to some party of white hunters, who
would take him under their protection and conduct him safely over the
wide and dangerous stretch of territory which still intervened between
him and his destination.

In spite of the careful calculation he had made, he soon learned that he
had committed an error. Although the tell-tale smoke at first seemed
scarcely a mile away, it was more than three times that distance. The
way being more obstructed by rocks and the sinuous winding of the trail,
he saw the sun sinking low in the west and found that he had still no
little traveling to do.

"It can't be that they are shifting that camp fire all the time," he
growled, as he clambered upon an elevation, and was again disappointed
to find it so far away. "Blamed if it don't look as if somebody was
playing a trick on me. I've heard of a jack-o'-lantern bobbing around in
that style, but nothing else."

He finally concluded that the laws of nature were not violated in this
case, and with renewed courage pressed ahead again. The sky was clear
and cloudless, the weather remained oppressively warm, and poor Ned was
so jaded that he felt scarcely able to drag one foot after the other,
but he was stout-hearted, and, just as the sun dipped out of sight
behind the mountains, he found himself within a hundred yards of the
mysterious camp.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE INDIAN FIGHT.

In spite of his great anxiety to learn all there was to be known about
the camp fire, Ned remained where he was for half an hour, until he had
rested somewhat from his severe labor.

The place in which the fire was kindled was elevated, rocky, uneven, and
inclosed by a few stunted trees and undergrowth, so that while the young
scout could catch a glimmer, now and then, of the fire, he could see
nothing more. The only way in which he could perfect his information was
to crawl up still nearer. This he proceeded to do, using all the care
and caution possible, until, after the lapse of nearly an hour, he
reached a point where his view was unobstructed and perfect.

A severe disappointment awaited him. He saw four Indian warriors grouped
around the fire, their dress, and the peculiar manner in which they were
painted, proving that they belonged to some tribe other than the
Apaches. Three of them were occupied in cutting up and preparing the
carcass of some animal, which they had shot, while the fourth was on his
knees in front of the fire, carefully doctoring it for culinary
purposes.

Succeeding Ned's first feeling of disappointment was an undercurrent of
hope that he was in a fair way to obtain another good meal.

"It isn't likely they'll eat up all they've got," he reflected, "and I
don't suppose they're going to settle down there for life. All I've got
to do, then, is to hang round until they go away, and then, if I can get
the chance, I'll stuff enough to last a week."

Having made his reconnaissance he withdrew to a more secret place, where
he would not be seen in case some of the warriors should take a look
around before retiring for the night. It was fortunate that he did so,
for he had scarcely crawled away beneath a dense mass of undergrowth
when he made the discovery that he had placed himself in a curious and
singularly dangerous position.

Twice he fancied he heard a faint rustling in the rear of where he was
crouching, and he was puzzled to know what it meant. He was sharp enough
to protect himself from observation from this direction as well as from
the front, and was no more than fairly secure when he caught the slight
sound again, and the next moment detected the figure of an Indian
stealing along, with his gaze fixed upon the camp fire and the forms
around it.

The lad was naturally puzzled to understand the meaning of this. There
was just enough fire light penetrating to where he was to show him that
this redskin belonged to a different tribe from those in camp. Only a
few minutes passed when he caught the glimpse of another warrior on the
left, crouching along in the same manner as the other. Then followed the
softest possible hiss, such as is made by the disturbed serpent, and, at
that moment, the truth of the whole matter suddenly broke upon Ned
Chadmund.

The strange Indians were quietly preparing their supper, unaware of the
fact that, while they were thus employed, a party of Apaches, their
deadly enemies, were closing in upon them. Thus, it was, too, that,
without the knowledge of either side, the lad was directly between them,
where it would seem impossible that he should escape being involved in
the conflict that was rapidly drawing to a head.

There was no hope of withdrawing, for the slightest movement would be
sure to make known his position, and he could only wait, therefore, the
issue of the encounter with an intensity of interest which it is
impossible to imagine. What could be more painfully interesting, for
instance, than to watch the movements of the strange Indians as they
engaged themselves in preparing their supper, conversing with each other
in their grunting fashion, and to note their unconsciousness that a
circle of death was slowly but surely closing in around them; to know,
which they did not suspect, that the most deadly kind of encounter was
close at hand? The endangered party certainly showed a lack of
precaution which belongs to their people in the most ordinary cases when
they went into camp in this fashion, and left the way open for such a
deadly and fatal assault to be made upon them. It must have been that
while engaged in the chase during the day they had made their
observations, and satisfied themselves that none of their enemies were
in dangerous proximity.

The odor of the cooking meat crept through the bushes to the nostrils of
the hungry lad, who was almost maddened into charging upon the party
himself in quest of some of the brown, crisp, roasting meat; but he
restrained himself, in the hope that the issue of the unpleasantness
would furnish him an opportunity to procure something for the inner man.

An Indian upon the warpath is as patient as the Esquimau who watches for
a dozen hours beside the airhole, waiting for the seal to come to the
surface. According to all human reasoning, there was no earthly
necessity for any delay upon the part of the attacking Apaches, and yet,
for full an hour longer, they maneuvered and reconnoitered, without
striking a blow. Despite the tense condition of the lad's nerves, he
began to grow drowsy and weary at the prolonged delay, and had the
attack been deferred a short time longer, he would have dropped into a
sound slumber.

The four strange Indians were permitted to finish their supper, and to
engage in a comfortable smoke. This, however, was never completed. They
were stretched out upon the ground in the most indolent manner
imaginable, when several rifles suddenly broke the stillness, the Apache
war whoop rang out with startling power, and a number of figures charged
through the bushes like a horde of demons, all converging upon the group
around the camp fire. Two of the latter had been instantly killed by the
first volley poured in upon them. The others were wounded, but they were
on their feet in an instant, fighting with the fury of tigers.

The battle was of the hurricane order, the third defender going down
within a minute after the assaulting party closed in about them. The
fourth, who was only slightly hurt seemed to have been caught at less
disadvantage. He was a warrior of wonderful activity and strength, and
used his hunting knife with good effect upon his first and second
assailants with lightening-like quickness. Then as they began to crowd
in upon him faster than he could provide against he circled his weapon
around his head several times, so as to clear a brief open space, when,
with a yell of defiance, he bounded high in the air, and vanished in the
forest, his speed so amazing that it was vain for any one to think of
pursuing him.

The battle ended as abruptly as it began. It was over in an instant, and
the petrified spectator could scarcely realize what had taken place
directly under his own eyes. He lay motionless, peering through the
leaves that shut him in, scarcely daring to breathe as he watched the
movements of the victors. He could scarcely suppress an exclamation of
terror when he recognized among them his old captor and enemy, Lone
Wolf.

"Just think of it," whispered Chadmund. "I have spent hours and hours,
and have traveled night and day to get away from him, and here he is,
within fifty feet of me again. How can I keep him from seeing my trail
again in the morning? It does beat everything how this thing is getting
mixed."

He took heart again, however, when he came to reflect that the greater
part of the night was still before him, that Lone Wolf had undoubtedly
given up all expectation of finding him, and, by using ordinary caution,
he could still keep clear of him.

The Apaches did not remain long upon the scene of the encampment. The
two of their own number that had been killed were lifted up, and then
Lone Wolf and his few intrepid warriors took their departure. Thus it
happened that within fifteen minutes after the first gun had been fired,
and the first yell uttered, the boy found himself alone upon the scene
of the terrible fight. Dreadful as were the place and the associations,
he could not forget that he was nearly famished, and stealing his way to
the fire, he hunted around until he found enough to satisfy the cravings
within. This done, he made up his mind that it was best for him to do
some traveling during the darkness, without waiting for the rising of
the morrow's sun.

CHAPTER XIX.

A TERRIBLE MEETING.

As he moved along, weary and worn, the memory of the horrid fight he had
seen by the camp fire, and especially the picture of those three stark,
bloody forms that lay stretched upon the earth, seemingly watching every
movement he made, followed and weighed him down like some smothering
incubus. Then he saw, more vividly than ever before, the mountainous
task ahead. With no horse, and the hundreds of miles of mountain and
prairie, with the dangers besetting him on every hand, what possible
hope had he for believing he was ever to reach his destination? The
gloom of the night, the shadow of what he had so recently witnessed, and
his own exhausted condition, no doubt had much to do with the distress;
for his prospects were certainly as good as at morning, when he was so
full of enthusiasm.

"I can't travel any further," he finally exclaimed, "and what's the use?
It won't do any good."

When he paused in his wearisome tramp, he happened to be close to a
tree, quite lofty, with numerous limbs, some of which were quite near
the ground. It struck him at once that it would be a good plan to climb
into this, and ensconce himself among the branches. At any rate, he was
certain to be out of the way of the crawling snakes, and no wild animal
could steal upon him while he was unconscious.

Without pausing more than a moment to consider, he ascended the tree,
and, a short distance from the ground secured the very position he
wanted. Here the limbs crossed and recrossed, and gnarled themselves in
such a way, that the most pleasant kind of bed imaginable was found, and
he stretched out his weary limbs upon it, thanking Heaven that had
guided him to such a favorable place.

"I hope Lone Wolf won't be able to follow me here," was the wish he
expressed, as he resigned himself to slumber.

But gentle sleep had not yet closed his eyelids when he was alarmed by
hearing something beneath him. His first supposition was that it was
Lone Wolf, for the sound resembled the stealthy tread of some person
upon the soft earth; but after listening a few minutes he became
satisfied that it was some animal instead.

"It's a wolf or panther that has scented my trail," was his conclusion,
as he leaned over and peered cautiously down among the branches.

The moon shone more brightly than upon any night since he had started,
but the shadow of the trees themselves obscured his view so much that
his vision was of little use to him. It seemed to him, however, when he
looked downward in this fashion, that once or twice he caught sight of a
shadowy creature, whisking back and forth, leaping about like a dog, and
apparently ready to make a bound upward among the branches.

But he could not make certain of what he saw, although there could be no
doubt but that he heard something, and that some kind of a dangerous
creature was close at hand.

"I guess he isn't going to hurt me," was his conclusion, after watching
and listening a half hour, and after finding a heavy drowsiness was
stealing over him. In this comfortable state of mind, he soon closed his
eyes, and relapsed into a deep, refreshing sleep, which lasted an hour
or more, when it ended in a peculiar manner. Very few boys are apt to
lie quiet in their beds, and Ned Chadmund, in turning over upon his
side, turned completely out of bed, and dropped through the branches to
the ground.

The fall was so slight that it did not hurt him, except in the
disagreeable shock that was inevitable. It flashed on him on the
instant, and, recalling those stealthy footsteps that had so frightened
him, he instantly sprang for the trunk, and began climbing with all the
haste at his command. He was almost within reach of the limbs, when he
heard a growl, and some denizen of the forest came plunging toward him.

With a thrill of terror, the lad made a tremendous effort, caught the
limb with one hand, swung his leg over and drew himself up. As he did
so, he felt distinctly the wind made by the body of the beast, as it
leaped upward, and snapped with his huge jaws at his legs, which were
withdrawn from its fangs just as they closed together. The creature,
whatever it was, made a running leap, that carried him some distance
beyond, when he struck the ground and ran a few leaps before turning
about and retracing his steps.

Without waiting to gain a more distinct view, the lad crept back to his
perch, where he tremblingly awaited the moment when it was to bound up
among the limbs and attack him. After gaining his former position, he
sat for a few minutes shivering like one with the ague, forgetting even
to think of the revolver with which to defend himself in case the brute
assaulted him. But it may have been that the dumb creature believed that
he was already frightened to death, and there was no occasion for
attempting anything further. At any rate nothing more was seen or heard
of him.

Ned had been too thoroughly shaken up to gain any more sleep. He sat
through the remaining hours of the night without closing his eyes a
moment in slumber. They were the longest and the dreariest that he ever
spent, but when the welcome light of morning came his foe had departed.

The wanderer waited a half hour or more, and carefully reconnoitered the
grounds before descending; but, assured that the coast was clear, he
came down to _terra firma_ again and took up his line of march. His fear
now was that his presence in the neighborhood might be discovered by
Lone Wolf or some of his band, and, scarcely pausing long enough to
swallow a few mouthfuls of water from a stream near at hand, he hastened
forward, with his face toward the west.

It became evident, after journeying a short distance, that he was again
following a distinctly-marked trail, one that was originally made by
animals, most probably buffaloes, in their migrations from one section
to another, and had been taken advantage of by men whose business or
inclinations called them in the same direction. Here and there he saw
marks that had been made by the hoofs of horses, and more than once he
was certain he observed the trail of moccasins. The path was more direct
and less laborious to travel, and he began to believe that, if he were
left alone, he might succeed in reaching safety at some time or other.

For some two hours he tramped along through a section that gradually
lost its mountainous character as he neared the rolling prairie beyond.
He kept continually looking back and around him, on the alert for
Indians; but not a sign was discovered, until he approached an
exceptionally rocky place, where the trail wound round the masses of
stone at such a sharp angle that the view was less than a dozen feet.

With no thought of danger, Ned walked around this corner, and on the
instant found himself face to face with a swarthy Indian warrior who
must have seen him approaching, and, dismounting from his horse, stood
back and awaited his approach. That astounded look revealed not only
this, but that the Indian was Lone Wolf.

Fate had brought the two together again, at the very time the heart of
the weary fugitive was beating high with hope. There was no chance for
retreat or hope of avoiding him. The eyes of the painted Apache glowed
with a demoniac light, and his fingers twitched as he placed his right
hand upon the buckhorn handle of a knife at his girdle.

"You run away--you see well--you lie--now I will cut out your eyes, and
you will not see to run away again!"

There was no doubt that such was the purpose of the warrior, as he
advanced upon the lad, who suddenly thrust his hand into his waistcoat
for his revolver.

It was gone!

During the night it had dropped out without being noticed, and he was
absolutely defenseless. He was breathless, paralyzed with terror.

"Yes, I will cut out your eyes, and then you will not see to run away,"
added the chief, striding toward him.

"Hold on thar, my copper-colored friend! This 'ere is a little row you
kin settle with me, instead of that boy thar. Try that knife on my eyes,
and while you're doing it, I'll try mine on yourn."

[Illustration: "THIS 'ERE IS A LITTLE ROW YOU KIN SETTLE WITH ME,
INSTEAD OF THAT BOY THAR."]

It was Tom Hardynge, the scout, who spoke thus opportunely.

CHAPTER XX.

WHITE VS. RED.

The hunter seemed to step forth from some crevice in the rocks, wherein
he had been concealed, and strode forward in such a manner that Lone
Wolf saw him at the very instant the first word was uttered.

The latter withdrew his gaze from the boy and turned with lightning-like
swiftness upon his adversary, while the latter, as cool and
self-possessed as if he were about to slice up an antelope or buffalo,
continued approaching with his hunting knife firmly clasped in his right
hand. The Indian, perceiving the character of the fight, flung his rifle
several yards from him, where it was beyond the reach of both, and
recoiling a single step, put himself in form to receive the charge of
his assailant.

"Ned, my boy," said the latter, without looking at him, "get back.
There's no telling what may happen."

This was no more than a prudent caution. The fight was over the boy, and
if Lone Wolf should find the battle going against him, he would resort
to any treacherous trick by which to destroy the prize,--such, for
instance, as a sudden dart upon the unsuspecting spectator and the
plunging of his knife to his heart before the active hunter could thwart
him. Ned obeyed his rescuer, whom he had never seen before, and stepped
back full a dozen yards from the combatants, but with his eyes intently
fixed upon them.

Tom was not the man to advance blindly to the assault, for none knew
better than he did the character of the foe he was about to assail.
When, therefore, he was just within striking distance, he paused, and,
with his grey eyes centered upon the black, snake-like orbs of the
chief, began circling around him in a stealthy cat-like movement, on the
lookout for some opening of which he might take advantage.

"Lone Wolf is a coward and a dog," he growled between his set teeth. "He
fights with pappooses, but he is afraid of men."

This was said with the sole purpose of exasperating the warrior, who
would thus have been placed at a slight disadvantage; but he was already
like a concentrated volcano--calm outwardly, but surcharged with fire
and death within. The taunt did not move his nerves an iota, and he
replied in words which were scarcely less irritating.

"It is the boasting dog which never hurts. If Lone Wolf is a dog, why
are you so afraid to come within his reach?"

The words were yet in his mouth when the scout dashed forward like a
catapult and struck a tremendous blow, driven with such directness and
swiftness that it could not have been parried. At the very instant
Hardynge made the charge, Lone Wolf did the same, and the two similar
blows, aimed at the same moment, encountered half way with such terrible
violence that both knives were hurled twenty feet beyond over the cliff
at their side, and irrevocably beyond their reach. This left them with
no weapons except such as nature had provided them with, and, now that
their blood was up and each was smarting under the pain of the first
collision, they immediately closed in and grappled each other like a
couple of infuriated gladiators.

Hardynge was a marvel of strength and activity, and so was the Apache.
The two were nearly evenly matched, a slight superiority in wrestling
attaching to the white man, who, after a furious struggle of a minute or
so, flung his antagonist as flat as could be, upon his back. He struck
like an India-rubber ball, and, before Tom could fasten him down, so as
to hold him, bounded up again and renewed his fight without a second's
hesitation.

"The devil take you!" growled the maddened hunter, as he let drive a
sledgehammer-like blow straight from the shoulder.

It encountered the chief fairly upon the forehead, with a force
apparently sufficient to crush his skull, but it only sent him reeling
back several paces, when his sinewy activity saved him from falling.
With the same unhesitating promptness he charged as before.

"If that skull ain't more than six inches thick, it'll go this time,"
muttered Tom, as he gathered all his strength and sent out his fist like
the thrust of a piston rod.

But Lone Wolf was expecting it and a quick flirt of the head to one side
let the mallet go harmlessly by, while the impetus of his own blow threw
Hardynge forward several steps, and narrowly escaped carrying him off
his feet altogether. With an exasperating taunt the chief landed a blow
upon the face of his antagonist as he shot by, and, catching him about
the shoulder before he could recover, flung him to the ground with great
violence, falling heavily upon him.

Had the knife of the Apache been in his hand at this juncture he would
have ended the struggle in short order; but he was without the means of
improving his advantage, and before he knew it he was turned from the
chest of the prostrate man. And this critical moment, when the issue of
the contest was very doubtful, a second figure came out from the rocks,
and approached the combatants. It was that of Dick Morris, who coolly
asked:

"Sha'n't I knock him on the head, Tom, and end this little row?"

"No," fairly shouted the enraged hunter, as they hammered away at each
other. "If you do it, I'll knock you on the head. This is a fair and
square fight in which the best man wins. If I can't knock thunder and
lightning out of this redskin, let him knock it out of me. Stand back!"

"All right," replied Dick, very contentedly, walking to where the
enthralled Ned Chadmund stood and asking him whether he wished to stake
a little wager on the result.

The appearance of this third party ended the contest in a manner neither
of the whites anticipated. The words of Tom Hardynge, declining the
assistance of his friend, were understood by Lone Wolf; but, treacherous
and faithless himself, he regarded them as only a part of a trap in
which he was to be caught, and his whole purpose was to get out of the
dilemma as quickly as possible. However hopeful he might be in a single
hand-to-hand encounter with one of the men, he was not vain enough to
think that he could master both. In their struggling they had approached
quite close to the cliff, and Lone Wolf made a determined attempt to
throw Tom over. By a little feinting and dodging, he managed to get him
between himself and the edge and then began pressing him furiously.

"That's your game, is it?" exclaimed the scout. "If it is, sail in, and
may the best man win."

Both were striking very wildly, when, hastily parrying several blows,
Hardynge made a sudden rush, closed in, grasping the chief around the
waist, and, lifting him clear of the ground, ran to the edge of the
cliff and flung him over!

But Hardynge was outwitted. This was the very thing for which Lone Wolf
had maneuvered so slyly. The cliff was not more than twenty feet in
height, and when the hunter peered over the margin, expecting to see his
enemy dashed to pieces at a great depth below, he saw him land as
lightly as a panther upon his feet and then whisk out of sight among the
rocks.

"Thunder and blazes!" he exclaimed, when he comprehended the little
trick that had been played upon him. Jerking off his hat, he slammed it
impatiently to the ground, and turning to his comrade, said:

"Did you ever see a bigger fool than me?"

"Don't think I ever did," was the serious reply.

"Never thought what the Injun was after till it was too late to hinder
him."

"I knowed it all the time. This ere little chap could have seed as much
himself," was the tantalizing reply.

"Why didn't you sing out, then, when you seed me pick him up and start
to throw him over?"

"'Cause I thought you was only fooling. Do you know there's a reward of
five hundred dollars offered for Lone Wolf, dead or alive? See what you
have lost?"

"Who offered it?" demanded Tom.

"Colonel Chadmund told me that old Captain Alvarez, that owns a big
ranch near Santa Fe, lost a thousand cattle by a stampede that he had
got up, and he's the man that has promised a hundred times to give that
reward to whoever wipes out the chief."

"Anything else to tell?" said Hardynge, disgustedly.

"Yes. When Colonel Chadmund told me that, he punched me slyly in the
side, and says, 'And yes, Dick, I'll put another five hundred on top of
it.'"

"Hain't you got a little more such news?" asked poor Tom, who was
wondering whether it was possible to feel any more angered or disgusted
with himself than he now felt.

"No--that'll do just now. I think you've had enough."

CHAPTER XXI.

FRIENDS TOGETHER.

Up to this stage the two hunters had found no opportunity to pay much
heed to Ned, who had been rescued so narrowly from horrible cruelty. Tom
Hardynge now advanced to where he stood, and thrust out his hand, his
face one broad grin.

"How are ye, my lad? We've had a long tramp for ye, and come mighty nigh
bein' too late."

"Have _you_ been looking for me?" asked the boy, in amazement.

"Yes, sir, we've been on the hunt for some days."

"How is that?"

Dick Morris briefly explained how Colonel Chadmund had received warning
through a friendly Indian runner of the projected massacre of the
cavalry escort. Knowing that it was impossible to forward reinforcements
to them in time, and that Lone Wolf was aiming specially to get his
hands upon his little boy, he had sent Dick post-haste with orders to
intercept Tom, if possible, and both had been instructed to secure
possession of the lad by any possible means in their power.

After a cautious investigation at the outset, when they arrived at
Devil's Pass, they found that the massacre had taken place almost
twenty-four hours before. The sight was a terrible one, such as made
even them shudder. The horses and soldiers lay scattered here and there,
just as they fell. The beasts of the forest had offered them no
disturbance, probably because there were more inviting feasts elsewhere.
But in the warm summer air the bloody, hacked faces were discolored and
swollen beyond recognition. The hunters rode carefully along, and
counted the whole thirteen, and when they found the overturned and
wrecked ambulance and the dead horse a short distance beyond they were
able to hit the right theory. It was in this carriage that young
Chadmund had been riding when he was captured, and the scouts set out at
once upon the trail of the Apache war-party.

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.

[Illustration: STILL NEARER, UNTIL IT APPEARED AS IF HE HAD TO MAKE BUT
A SINGLE LEAP FORWARD.]

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