u need not, for such a purpose. There is one not far off who can aid
you in that--better than the escort you speak of. If too late to save
their lives, he may avenge their deaths for you. You say the caravan
passed yesterday?"

"Yesterday about noon."

"You could not overtake it, and return in time. The Red-Hand would be
gone. Besides, you cannot get from this place to the trail taken by the
caravan, without going back by the canon; and there you might meet those
from whom you have escaped. You cannot cross that way: the ridge is
impassable."

As she said this, she pointed to the left--the direction which I had
intended to take. I could see through a break in the bluff a
precipitous mountain spur running north and south--parallel with the
ravine I had been threading. It certainly appeared impassable--trending
along the sky like the escarpment of some gigantic fortress. If this
was true, there would be but little chance of my overtaking the escort
in time. I had no longer a hope of being able to effect the rescue of
my comrades. The delay, no doubt, would be fatal. In all likelihood,
both Wingrove and Sure-shot had ere this been sacrificed to the
vengeance of the Arapahoes, freshly excited by my escape. Only from a
sense of duty did I purpose returning: rather with the idea of being
able to avenge their deaths.

What meant this mysterious maiden? Who possessed the power to rescue my
comrades from two hundred savages--the most warlike upon the plains?
Who was he that could aid me in avenging them?

"Follow me, and you shall see!" replied the huntress, in answer to my
interrogatory. "Your horse! your horse! Hasten, or we shall be too
late. The Red-Hand in the valley of the Huerfano! Wa-ka-ra will
rejoice at the news. Your horse! your horse!" I hastened back for my
Arab, and hurriedly led him up to the spot.

"A beautiful creature!" exclaimed she, on seeing the horse; "no wonder
you were able to ride off from your captors. Mount!"

"And you?"

"I shall go afoot. But stay! time is precious. Can your steed carry us
both?"

"Undoubtedly he can."

"Then it is better we should both ride. Half an hour is everything; and
if the Red-Hand should escape--You mount first--be quick!"

It was not the time to be squeamish--even under the glance of the
loveliest eyes. Taking the robe from my shoulders, I spread it over the
back of my horse; and employing a piece of the laryette as a surcingle,
I bou