shone down with scorching power on the arid
plain. What mattered it to Dick? He was far away in the shady groves
of the Mustang Valley, chasing the deer at times, but more frequently
cooling his limbs and sporting with Crusoe in the bright blue lake. Now
he was in his mother's cottage, telling her how he had thought of her
when far away on the prairie, and what a bright, sweet word it was she
had whispered in his ear,--so unexpectedly, too. Anon he was scouring
over the plains on horseback, with the savages at his heels; and at such
times Dick would spring with almost supernatural strength from the
ground, and run madly over the burning plain; but, as if by a species of
fascination, he always returned to the salt river, and sank exhausted by
its side, or plunged helplessly into its waters.

These sudden immersions usually restored him for a short time to reason,
and he would crawl up the bank and gnaw a morsel of the maple sugar; but
he could not eat much, for it was in a tough, compact cake, which his
jaws had not power to break. All that day and the next night he lay on
the banks of the salt stream, or rushed wildly over the plain. It was
about noon of the second day after his attack that he crept slowly out
of the water, into which he had plunged a few seconds before. His mind
was restored, but he felt an indescribable sensation of weakness, that
seemed to him to be the approach of death. Creeping towards the place
where his rifle lay, he fell exhausted beside it, and laid his cheek on
the Bible, which had fallen out of his pocket there.

While his eyes were closed in a dreamy sort of half-waking slumber, he
felt the rough, hairy coat of an animal brush against his forehead. The
idea of being torn to pieces by wolves flashed instantly across his
mind, and with a shriek of terror he sprang up,--to be almost
overwhelmed by the caresses of his faithful dog.

Yes, there he was, bounding round his master, barking and whining, and
giving vent to every possible expression of canine joy.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

CRUSOE'S RETURN AND HIS PRIVATE ADVENTURES AMONG THE INDIANS--DICK AT A
VERY LOW EBB--CRUSOE SAVES HIM.

The means by which Crusoe managed to escape from his two-legged captors,
and rejoin his master, requires separate and special notice.

In the struggle with the fallen horse and Indian, which Dick had seen
begun but not concluded, he was almost crushed to death; and the instant
the Indian gained his