er of the old horse was the closing act of Holt's career in his
clearing upon Mud Creek. Only one doubt remained. Was it he who had
killed the animal? I had conceived a suspicion pointing to Su-wa-nee--
but without being able to attribute to the Indian any motive for the
act.

"No, no!" replied my comrade, in answer to my interrogatory on this
head: "'twar Holt hisself, sartin. He culdn't take the old hoss along
wi' him, an' he didn't want anybody else to git him. Besides, the girl
hedn't no reezun to a did it. She'd a been more likely to a tuk the old
critter to thar camp--seein' he war left behind wi' nobody to own him.
Tho' he wan't worth more'n what the skin 'ud fetch, he'd adone for them
ar Injuns well enuf, for carryin' thar traps an' things. No, 'twan't
her, nor anybody else 'ceptin' Holt hisself--he did it?"

"If that be so, comrade, there is still hope for us. They cannot have
more than four hours the start. You say the creek has a winding
course?"

"Crooked as a coon's hind leg."

"And the Obion?"

"Most part the same. It curls through the bottom like the tail o' a
cur-dog; an' nigher the Massissippy, it don't move faster than a snail
'ud crawl. I reck'n the run o' the river 'll not help 'em much. The'll
hev a good spell o' paddlin' afore they git down to Massissippy; an' I
hope that durned Mormon 'll blister his ugly claws at it!"

"With all my heart!" I rejoined; and both of us at the same instant
recognising the necessity of taking time by the forelock, we hurried
back to our horses, sprang into our saddles and started along the trace
conducting to the mouth of the Obion.

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

A LOOKOUT FROM ALOFT.

It cost us a fatiguing ride of nearly twelve hours' duration--most of it
along by-roads and bridle-paths--at intervals passing through tracts of
swampy soil, where our horses sank to the saddle-girths in mud. We rode
continuously: stopping only once to recruit our horses at one of the
"stands," or isolated log hostelries--which are found upon the old
"traces" connecting the sparse settlements of the backwoods. It was the
only one we saw upon our route; and at it we remained no longer than was
absolutely necessary to rest our wearied steeds, and put them in a
condition for the completion of the journey. We knew the necessity of
haste. Our only hope lay in being able to reach the mouth of the Obion
before the canoe could pass out of it. Otherwise, our journey wou