rom it at that moment, I should certainly
have been torn to pieces.

I saw no hope of safety but in flight; and spurring my horse, I gave him
full rein. Alas! through that tangled thicket the javali could go as
fast as he; and after advancing a hundred yards or so, I perceived the
whole flock still around me, assailing as fiercely as ever the limbs of
my steed.

The result might have proved awkward enough; but at that moment I heard
voices, and saw mounted men breaking through the underwood. They were
Stanfield, Quackenboss, and the rest of the rangers.

In another instant, they were on the ground; and their revolvers,
playing rapidly, soon thinned the ranks of the javali, and caused the
survivors to retreat grunting and screaming into the thicket.

CHAPTER SIXTY EIGHT.

THE WOODS ON FIRE?

The trappers were not among those who had rescued me--where were they?

The others made answer, though I already guessed what they had to tell.
Rube and Garey had followed the tracks of the steed, leaving the rangers
to come after me.

I was pleased with the ready intelligence of my comrades: they had acted
exactly as they should have done. I was myself found, and I no longer
entertained any apprehension that the trail would be lost.

By this time, the trackers must be far upon it; more than an hour had
elapsed since they and the others had parted company. My zigzag path
had cost my followers many a bewildering pause.

But they had not ridden recklessly as I, and could find their way back.
As it was impossible to tell in what direction Rube and Garey had gone,
this course was the best to be followed; and under the guidance of
Stanfield--an expert woodsman--we rode back towards the prairie.

It was not necessary to retrace our own crooked trail. The Kentuckian
had noted the "lay" of the chapparal, and led us out of its labyrinths
by an almost direct path.

On reaching the open ground, we made no pause; but upon the tracks of
Rube, Garey, and the steed, re-entered the chapparal.

We had no difficulty about our course; it was plainly traced out for us;
the trappers had "blazed" it. In most places, the tracks of the three
horses were sufficient indices of the route; but there were stretches
where the ground was stony, and upon the parched arid herbage, even the
shod hoof left no visible mark. In such places, a branch of acacia
broken and pendulous, the bent flower-stem of an aloe, or the succulent
leaves of the