lying in a
panic from the field of battle. It was in vain that the captain of
horse-thieves, divining at last the cause of their extraordinary flight,
roared out that he was a living man, with nothing of a ghost about him
whatever; the panic was universal and irremediable, and nothing remained
for him to do but to save his own life as quickly as possible.

"'Tarnal death to me!" he bellowed, turning to fly; but a groan from
Bruce fell on his ear. He ran to the side of the fallen youth, and
catching him by the hand, exclaimed, "Now for the best leg, Tom, and a
rush up hill to the bosses!"

"You _ar'n't_ hanged then, after all?" muttered the junior; and then
fell back as if unable to rise, adding faintly, "Go;--rat it, I'm done
for.--As for the--'l--savages, what I have to say--'l--'l--. But I reckon
scalping's not much;--'l--'l--one soon gets used to it!"--

And thus the young Kentuckian, his blood oozing-fast, his mind wandering,
his utterance failing, muttered, resigning himself to his fate, ignorant
that even Stackpole was no longer at his side to hear him. His fate did
indeed seem to be inevitable; for while Stackpole had him by the hand,
vainly tugging to get him on his feet, three different Indians were seen
running with might and main to quench the last spark of his existence,
and to finish Stackpole at the same time. But in that very emergency, the
ill-luck which seemed to pursue the horse-thief, and all with whom he was
associated, found a change; and destiny sent them doth assistance in a
way and by means as unexpected as they were unhoped for. The approach of
the savages was noticed by Roaring Ralph, who, not knowing how to save
his young executioner, against whom he seemed to entertain no feelings of
anger whatever, and whose approaching fate he appeared well disposed to
revenge beforehand, clapped his rifle to his shoulder, to make sure of
one of the number; when his eye was attracted by the spectacle of a horse
rushing up the stony road, neighing furiously, and scattering the Indians
from before him. It was the charger Briareus, who had broken from the
tree where he had been fastened below, and now came dashing up the hill,
distracted with terror, or perhaps burning to mingle in the battle, which
he had heard and snuffed from afar. He galloped by the three Indians, who
leaped aside in alarm, while Stackpole, taking advantage of the moment,
ran up and seized him by the bridle. In another moment, he had assi