hirlwind; but they scarcely stopped Bolter, who
seemed to take an especial pleasure in leaping over them, and leading
his pursuers along the worst ground he could find. The other animals
were, however, quite as eager to come up with Bolter as he was to
escape, and exerted themselves to the utmost. Should he once get out of
sight, as there appeared every probability of his doing, days might pass
before he could again be discovered. They were approaching another
scrub, which was, however, sufficiently open to allow the horses to pass
through.

"If he once gets in there, our game will be up!" cried Paul. "On,
Harry, on! we must head him before he reaches it."

"Very well to sing out, `On, on!' My beast is doing his best, and
Bolter doesn't intend to be caught," cried Harry.

That Bolter would escape seemed very likely. He had got within a few
yards of the scrub, when he suddenly wheeled round, almost on his
haunches, and galloped back the way he had come. Scarcely had he done
so, when a black figure started up from behind some bushes, and hurled a
long lance at him, but the weapon merely grazed his side, and stuck in
the ground.

"Back, back! the blacks! There may be more of them!" cried Paul.

Harry had seen the native, and pulled up as his brother spoke. They
were just in time, for a dozen or more black fellows, showing
themselves, sprang forward poising their spears ready to hurl at the
young horsemen. Old Bolter, fully comprehending the danger which he and
his owners were in, instead of going over the bad ground took that to
the left, allowing Paul and Harry to ride up close to him on either
flank. Nevertheless, he kept his eyes about him, evidently intending to
make off in some other direction if he could. The three horses now tore
along over the ground, the nimble-footed blacks, with their spears in
hand, following them for some distance. At length, however, Paul,
looking back, found that they had got well ahead of the natives. It was
important not to be overtaken, for they evidently belonged to some
hostile tribe who intended mischief. Bolter, who seemed to be aware
that there was no longer any danger from the blacks, made two or three
attempts to escape; but Paul and Harry reminding him of his duty with
their stock whips, he at length made straight as an arrow for the
station, over the very course they would have chosen. Nothing stopped
him. Across the country he galloped, with the two riders