en ridden
by savages until all his old fire and blood and mettle were worked up
to a red heat, no sooner discovered that he was pursued than he gave
a snort of defiance, which he accompanied with a frantic shake of his
mane and a fling of contempt in addition to a magnificent wave of his
tail. Then he thundered up the valley at a pace which would speedily
have left Joe Blunt and Henri out of sight behind if--ay! that's the
word, _if_! What a word that _if_ is! what a world of _if's_ we live
in! There never was anything that wouldn't have been something else
_if_ something hadn't intervened to prevent it! Yes, we repeat Charlie
would have left his two friends miles and miles behind in what is
called "no time," _if_ he had not run straight into a gorge which was
surrounded by inaccessible precipices, and out of which there was no
exit except by the entrance, which was immediately barred by Henri,
while Joe advanced to catch the run-away.

For two hours at least did Joe Blunt essay to catch Charlie, and
during that space of time he utterly failed The horse seemed to have
made up his mind for what is vulgarly termed "a lark."

"It won't do, Henri," said Joe, advancing towards his companion, and
wiping his forehead with the cuff of his leathern coat; "I can't catch
him. The wind's a'most blowed out o' me body."

"Dat am vexatiable," replied Henri, in a tone of commiseration.
"S'pose I wos make try?"

"In that case I s'pose ye would fail. But go ahead, an' do what ye
can. I'll hold yer horse."

So Henri began by a rush and a flourish of legs and arms that nearly
frightened the horse out of his wits. For half-an-hour he went through
all the complications of running and twisting of which he was capable,
without success, when Joe Blunt suddenly uttered a stentorian yell
that rooted him to the spot on which he stood.

To account for this, we must explain that in the heights of the Rocky
Mountains vast accumulations of snow take place among the crevices and
gorges during winter. Such of these masses as form on steep slopes
are loosened by occasional thaws, and are precipitated in the form of
avalanches into the valleys below, carrying trees and stones along
with them in their thundering descent. In the gloomy gorge where
Dick's horse had taken refuge the precipices were so steep that many
avalanches had occurred, as was evident from the mounds of heaped snow
that lay at the foot of most of them. Neither stones nor trees wer