ees get hold of your horses, you'll have a long hunt
before you find them again. Will you go?"

"Ay, right gladly," replied Dick. "When do we start?"

"This afternoon."

Dick went off at once to his own part of the camp to replenish his
powder-horn and bullet-pouch, and wipe out his rifle.

That evening the party, under command of a Canadian named Pierre, set
out for the Blue Hills. They numbered twenty men, and expected to be
absent three days, for they merely went to reconnoitre, not to trap.
Neither Joe nor Henri was of this party, both having been out hunting
when it was organized; but Crusoe and Charlie were, of course.

Pierre, although a brave and trusty man, was of a sour, angry
disposition, and not a favourite with Dick; but the latter resolved to
enjoy himself, and disregard his sulky comrade. Being so well mounted,
he not unfrequently shot far ahead of his companions, despite their
warnings that he ran great risk by so doing. On one of these occasions
he and Crusoe witnessed a very singular fight, which is worthy of
record.

Dick had felt a little wilder in spirit that morning than usual, and
on coming to a pretty open plain he gave the rein to Charlie, and with
an "_Adieu, mes camarade_," he was out of sight in a few minutes. He
rode on several miles in advance without checking speed, and then came
to a wood where rapid motion was inconvenient; so he pulled up, and,
dismounting, tied Charlie to a tree, while he sauntered on a short way
on foot.

On coming to the edge of a small plain he observed two large birds
engaged in mortal conflict. Crusoe observed them too, and would soon
have put an end to the fight had Dick not checked him. Creeping as
close to the belligerents as possible, he found that one was a wild
turkey-cock, the other a white-headed eagle. These two stood with
their heads down and all their feathers bristling for a moment; then
they dashed at each other, and struck fiercely with their spurs, as
our domestic cocks do, but neither fell, and the fight was continued
for about five minutes without apparent advantage on either side.

Dick now observed that, from the uncertainty of its motions, the
turkey-cock was blind, a discovery which caused a throb of compunction
to enter his breast for standing and looking on, so he ran forward.
The eagle saw him instantly, and tried to fly away, but was unable
from exhaustion.

"At him, Crusoe," cried Dick, whose sympathies all lay with the other