t that moment about a dozen of the horses belonging to the war-party
came thundering down along the banks of the stream. They had broken
loose, and were flying from the Indians who had attempted to catch them.
On nearing the precipice, over which the stream leaped with noisy
petulance, the snorting steeds drew up in alarm, as if undecided which
way to turn.

"A rare chance!" cried the trapper. "Every man for himself--keep well
up the hill, comrades? an' hem them in."

Saying this, he ran up the bank, the others followed, and, in a few
minutes, they drove the steeds into a corner, from which they made a
sudden rush, but as the long halter of each was trailing at its side, no
difficulty was experienced in securing several of them as they passed
by. Next moment the fugitives were mounted and hastening away from the
scene of their late adventure as fast as the rugged nature of the ground
would permit.

It is not necessary that we should follow our adventurers in all their
windings through the mighty fastnesses of the far West. Suffice it to
say that they made good their escape from the Indians, and that, for
many days, they travelled through scenes so beautiful and varied that
they have been spoken of by those who know them well as a perfect
paradise. Every description of lovely prospect met their admiring eyes
in endless succession, but so wary were the lower animals, and so few
the human inhabitants, that those realms were to all appearance absolute
solitudes--created, apparently, for no end or purpose. Nevertheless,
there was enough there to tell the Christian philosopher that God had
made the deserts for the enjoyment of His creatures, for, although not
always visible or audible, myriads of living beings were there--from the
huge buffalo and grizzly bear to the sand-fly and mosquito--which
rejoiced in the green pastures and luxuriated beside the sweet waters of
the land.

One afternoon the travellers came upon a small plain, which reminded
them somewhat of the prairies. The first glance showed them that it was
crowded with buffalos. Instantly a sensation of wild excitement passed
through their frames, and showed itself in various ways. The Irishman
uttered a shout of delight, and suggested an immediate onslaught; but it
is due to his wisdom to say that the shout was a subdued one, and the
suggestion was humbly made. Our hero became restless and flushed, while
the eyes of Bunco and Big Ben alone served as o