y!"

At the last word the riders' whips cracked, and the horses sprang
forward at a furious gallop. Both of them were good spirited animals,
and during the first part of the race it could not be said that either
had the advantage. They ran neck and neck together.

The racecourse at the Mountain Fort was a beautiful stretch of level
turf, which extended a considerable distance in front of the gates. It
crossed a clear open country towards the forest, where it terminated,
and, sweeping round in an abrupt curve, formed, as it were, a loop; so
that competitors, after passing over the course, swept round the loop,
and, re-entering the original course again, came back towards the fort,
where a long pole formed the winning-post.

Dupont and Lincoln kept together, as we have said, for some time after
starting, but before they had cleared the first half of the course the
former was considerably in advance of the latter, much to the delight of
most of the excited spectators, with whom he was a favourite. On
gaining the loop above referred to, and making the graceful sweep round
it, which brought the foremost rider into full side view, the distance
between them became more apparent, and a cheer arose from the people
near the fort gate.

At that moment a puff of smoke issued from the bushes. Dupont tossed
his arms in the air, uttered a sharp cry, and fell headlong to the
ground. At the same instant a band of Indians sprang from the underwood
with an exulting yell. Lincoln succeeded in checking and turning his
horse before they caught his bridle, but an arrow pierced his shoulder
ere he had galloped out of reach of his enemies.

The instant Dupont fell, a savage leaped upon him, and plunged his knife
into his heart. Then, passing the sharp weapon quickly round his head
with his right hand, with his left he tore the scalp off, and, leaping
up, shook the bloody trophy defiantly at the horrified spectators.

All this was accomplished so quickly that the horror-stricken people of
the Mountain Fort had not time to move a finger to save their comrade.
But, as the savage raised the scalp of poor Dupont above his head,
Redhand's rifle flew to his shoulder, and in another moment the Indian
fell to the earth beside his victim. Seeing this, the other Indians
darted into the forest.

Then a fearful imprecation burst from the lips of Macgregor, as, with a
face convulsed with passion, he rushed into the fort, shouting: "To
horse!