THE READER AND I IN CHASE. 303 



He has seen nothing, and we are still invisible, but 

 he does not stop to look behind. "Escape for your 

 life ! " has been as plainly telegraphed from nose to 

 brain, as it could be by eyes or mouth. We were so 

 far off and well hidden then, that those active tell- 

 tales, sound and sight, could play no part in this 

 alarm. But the sentinel nerves of smell fled back 

 from their post on the frontier, with the cry of 

 " Man ! " and the beast of the wilderness thinks only 

 of flight. Powerful for defense against the rest of 

 the animal creation, he is coward on the instant be- 

 fore its king. 



Away he goes, right into the teeth of the wind, 

 which he knows will tell him of any other foes ahead. 

 Lumber along, old fellow, in your ponderous gallop, 

 the reader and I are on your path. Our saddle girths 

 have been tightly drawn, the holster pistols are nestled 

 snug at hand, in their cases on either side of the 

 saddle-horn, while across its front lies the light Henry 

 carbine, with a shoulder-strap attaching it to our per- 

 son, should we drop the gun for the pistol. Thus we 

 ride with twenty-four shots before reloading, at the 

 service of our trigger-finger; the carbine carries 

 twelve, the pistols each a half-dozen. 



How warm we have become. Our hearts are as 

 high up as they can get, bumping away at the throat- 

 valves, as if they wished to get out and see what it is 

 that has called their reserves into action. 



There is a muskish taint in the air, from the game 

 ahead. Put in your spurs, comrade; do n't spare. 

 Get up beside him quickly as possible. Once there, 

 the horses will easily stick. A stern chase dis- 



