a blaze
of glory.

With a shout of enthusiasm, several of the younger members of the
party sprang forward into the plain at a gallop; but the shout was
mingled with one of a different tone from the older men.

"Hist!--hallo!--hold on, ye catamounts! There's Injuns ahead!"

The whole band came to a sudden halt at this cry, and watched eagerly,
and for some time in silence, the motions of a small party of horsemen
who were seen in the far distance, like black specks on the golden
sky.

"They come this way, I think," said Major Hope, after gazing
steadfastly at them for some minutes.

Several of the old hands signified their assent to this suggestion by
a grunt, although to unaccustomed eyes the objects in question looked
more like crows than horsemen, and their motion was for some time
scarcely perceptible.

"I sees pack-horses among them," cried young Marston in an excited
tone; "an' there's three riders; but there's som'thin' else, only wot
it be I can't tell."

"Ye've sharp eyes, younker," remarked one of the men, "an' I do
b'lieve ye're right."

Presently the horsemen approached, and soon there was a brisk fire of
guessing as to who they could be. It was evident that the strangers
observed the cavalcade of white men, and regarded them as friends, for
they did not check the headlong speed at which they approached. In a
few minutes they were clearly made out to be a party of three horsemen
driving pack-horses before them, and _somethin_' which some of the
hunters guessed was a buffalo calf.

Young Marston guessed too, but his guess was different. Moreover, it
was uttered with a yell that would have done credit to the fiercest
of all the savages. "Crusoe!" he shouted, while at the same moment he
brought his whip heavily down on the flank of his little horse, and
sprang over the prairie like an arrow.

One of the approaching horsemen was far ahead of his comrades, and
seemed as if encircled with the flying and voluminous mane of his
magnificent horse.

"Ha! ho!" gasped Marston in a low tone to himself, as he flew along.
"Crusoe! I'd know ye, dog, among a thousand! A buffalo calf! Ha! git
on with ye!"

This last part of the remark was addressed to his horse, and was
followed by a whack that increased the pace considerably.

The space between two such riders was soon devoured.

"Hallo! Dick--Dick Varley!"

"Eh! why, Marston, my boy!"

The friends reined up so suddenly that one might have fancied th