ve a nag. Just think of
you bringing me straight back all through that black gulch--me asleep
too! There, old chap," he continued, patting the little animal's neck,
"I won't forget your mash. You shall have it before I eat a morsel. I
wouldn't take a hundred pounds for you if any one offered it; but nobody
will, and I don't want it if he did.

"Yes," he continued, as the pony paced steadily on, "they've got a good
fire, and it must be very near now. _Sniff, sniff_. Why, it's meat
roasting. My! It does smell good! Shall I _coo-ee_ and let them know
I'm so close? No, I'll ride right up into the light and surprise them.
Father will be wide awake watching for me, and old Ned'll be snoring, I
know. He might have sat up too. I should have done so for him, because
I should have felt uneasy about what had happened. _Sniff! Sniff_! I
wonder what they've got! It smells like mutton. How did they manage to
get it? Not one of those mountain-sheep?"

A shrill low whinny from right ahead where the fire was burning brightly
now and casting shadows from the trees and bushes, and also bringing
into sight a tall figure seated as it were in the air, till Chris
recognised the fact that it was a mounted man.

"Father waiting to ride out and meet me," thought Chris, as a thrill ran
through him, caused by the answering whinny of his mustang.

The next moment, as the boy was about to urge it forward right into the
light, there was a hoarse yell, more shadows appeared in the bright
glow, and Chris stopped to seize his neglected rein, and drag his pony's
head round, urging it with hand and voice to bound away along the
returning track, for in the bright light of the fire the boy had fully
awakened to the fact that he had been riding straight for an Indian
encampment, right in amongst the enemies he had been trying so hard to
avoid.

CHAPTER FORTY.

AN UNCONSCIOUS DOUBLE.

It was all Chris could do in his excitement and alarm to keep from
crying aloud to his pony to go faster and faster, though after a few
strides it seemed as if the rider's fear was communicated, and it was
tearing over the rocky ground with all its might, making the stones fly
as they were smitten in the furious gallop. But fortunately not a word
escaped between the boy's firmly-set teeth.

Settling himself well down in the saddle, he felt that his only chance
of saving himself from being a prisoner, perhaps from a horrible death,
was to trust en