. He dreamed that Lawrence Peabody
was a captive, and that the chief was about to scalp him, when suddenly
he awoke. He could not at first tell where he was, but a glance revealed
the disheartening truth.

He must have slept several hours, for the gray dawn was creeping up the
sky, heralding sunrise. He leaned on his elbow, and bent a searching
glance upon his companions. They were stretched motionless upon the
ground, hushed in the insensibility of sleep. "Are they asleep?" Tom
asked himself. He satisfied himself that the slumber was genuine, and
there sprang up in his heart the wild hope of escape. A few rods distant
the horses were fastened. Could he unfasten and mount one before any of
them a wakened?

Tom's heart beat quick with excitement. He knew that he ran a fearful
risk; but he made up his mind that now was his time.

Slowly, and without noise, he raised himself to his feet. As he stood
erect, he closely scanned the sleepers. There was not a motion. With
stealthy steps he crept to the horses. He selected the one he had ridden
the day before, and unloosed him. The animal gave a slight whinny, and
Tom's heart was in his throat. But no one stirred. He quickly mounted
the animal, and walked him for a few rods, then gave him a loose rein,
and was soon speeding away. Just then the sun rose, and this guided him
in the direction he was to take.

He had got a mile away, when, looking back through the clear air, he
saw, to his dismay, that his flight had been discovered. The Indians
were mounting their horses.

"I must gallop for life," thought Tom. "They will kill me if they catch
me."

He urged on his horse by all the means in his power. Luckily it was one
of the two fleetest horses the Indians possessed, the other being ridden
by their leader.

Tom's hope was sustained by this fact, which he had proof of the day
before.

Rather to his surprise, he did not feel as much frightened as he
anticipated. He felt excited, and this was his prominent feeling.
Probably he felt like a soldier in the heat of battle.

But the odds against Tom were terrible, and his chance of escape seemed
very slender. Behind him was a band of savages, accustomed to the
plains, strong, wily, enduring, and persistent. He was new to the
plains, and a mere boy. Moreover, he did not know where to find his
party. There were no sign-boards upon the prairies, but a vast, uniform
expanse stretching farther than the eye could reach.

Inch by