88 AFRICAN VERSUS AMERICAN. 



the poisoned missile through the chest of the Caucasian. But, on the point of 

 launching the spear, the upper part of his arms was griped by a ring of fire that 

 seemed burning its way through flesh and bone. 



Jack Harvey meant to coil the loop about the neck of the savage, but the leveled 

 shaft interfered to that extent that the rope enclosed the shoulders. The instant it 

 did so, it was jerked taut with the quickness of lightning. 



No doubt the Bushman was accustomed to think fast; but, before he could grasp 

 matters, he was jerked off the bare back of his steed, sprawling like a frog on the 

 ground, with his legs beating the air, the shock of the fall being so violent that, for 

 a few seconds, he lay motionless and stunned. 



His horse was bewildered by what took place, and, flinging up his head with a 

 whinny, started back to his companions. 



In doing this he headed toward Pongo, whom he must have mistaken for one 

 of his own people. 



Pongo saw that his chance, desperate though it was, had come. With a couple 

 of bounds, he met the animal, and a single leap landed him on its back. In a twink- 

 ling, he headed it the other way, and, understanding so well how to manage its 

 kind, he sent it flying at headlong pace up the slope toward the encampment of 

 his friends. 



Expecting to be filled with arrows and javelins until he resembled a porcupine, 

 Pongo flung himself forward on the neck of his new steed, and shut his eyes, while 

 the throbbing animal beneath him thundered up the hill with the speed of the wind. 



Two singular causes intervened to help him. 



The fall of the Bushman leader filled his followers, for the moment, with conster- 

 nation. Seeing him motionless on the ground, they seemed to think he had been 

 slain by some new and mysterious weapon in the hands of the white man With 

 cries of rage and grief the party galloped toward him, while several, noting the 

 thief making off with the best steed of the tribe, despatched a number of arrows in 

 that direction. 



In doing so, however, they were handicapped by the fear of killing the noble 

 animal, which they hoped yet to recover for their leader, provided the latter was 

 alive. These factors in the problem, appearing at the critical moment, saved 

 Pongo, who passed beyond reach of his infuriated countrymen, not only without a 

 scratch, but the owner of the finest native horse he had ever bestrode. 



But as for Jack Harvey, as he expressed it, he was not yet out of the woods; in 

 fact, he had only fairly entered them. He had unhorsed his opponent in emphatic 

 style, and nothing would have been easier than to despatch him, as he lay on the 

 ground; but the Texan's chivalrous nature recoiled from such a summary course 

 toward a foe that had not only shown a certain bravery in sallying forth to meet 

 him, but at that moment was helpless. 



