lable excitement, and exclaimed,

"Ugh! Ride now. Kill hoss. Save pale-face. Save Nez Perce. Get there
before Apache. All scalp gone if 'Pache come first."

He suppressed a whoop, but the next bound of his pony explained his
meaning, and Sile galloped, stride by stride, with him. It was a race
for life and for the lives of many others; for Two Arrows had briefly
read that problem when he said to Sile, as he handed him back his glass,

"No squaw. Braves on war-path. No hunt. Kill. Take scalp."

Both were well mounted, and Sile rode well, although by no means so
completely at home on horseback as was his red friend. His rifle, too,
was more tiresome to carry than was a light lance, and the bow and
arrows were now tightly "slung," and required no handling. It would not
do to wear out their horses in one rush, but they kept on at the highest
speed at all consistent with a long ride. It was much faster, at all
events, than the Apaches were likely to travel, unless something new
should stir them up. By keeping well away from the stream, they were not
compelled to follow its windings, and could ride more nearly in a
straight line, only turning out for clumps of trees and similar
obstructions and paying no attention to game, although they now saw gang
after gang of deer and a respectable party of bisons.

CHAPTER XXIV

SILE'S VICTORY

There had been no anxiety at the mine on account of the absent hunters.
Judge Parks and Yellow Pine had their hands very full of an inspection
of the cargoes of the two wagons. The men toiled vigorously at the stone
wall and at the shingle riving. Ha-ha-pah-no and Na-tee-kah were as busy
as bees over the lengthening list of marvels put before their eyes. It
seemed to Na-tee-kah as if Judge Parks must be a kind of magician, or
else that he had a whole lodge full of "medicine-men" of a rare breed at
home, who could conjure up for him almost anything he might chose to
call for. It was no use to try to understand such things as he and
Yellow Pine were examining. They belonged to the great mystery of
pale-face life, and a Nez Perce girl could not be expected to guess very
nearly at their uses. She could comb her hair more carefully, however,
and discover a new way of doing it up, and she did not know how closely
she was imitating many pale-face young ladies of about her age, not to
speak of older ones.

Noon came and went, and there were no signs of returning hunters or of
game of any