possessing a sort of natural aptitude for holding on in a straight line.
He mounted the obstinate horse, therefore, took the rein of the
obedient pony on his right arm, and, casting a last look of profound
regret on Bevan's desolated homestead, rode swiftly away. So eager was
he that he took no thought for the morrow. He knew that the wallet
slung at his saddle-bow contained a small supply of food--as much,
probably, as would last three days with care. That was enough to render
Tolly Trevor the most independent and careless youth in Oregon.

While these events were occurring in the neighbourhood of Bevan's Gully,
three red men, in all the glory of vermilion, charcoal, and feathers,
were stalking through the forest in the vicinity of the spot where poor
Tom Brixton had laid him down to die. These children of the wilderness
stalked in single file--from habit we presume, for there was ample space
for them to have walked abreast if so inclined. They seemed to be
unsociable beings, for they also stalked in solemn silence.

Suddenly the first savage came to an abrupt pause, and said, "Ho!" the
second savage said, "He!" and the third said, "Hi!" After which, for
full a minute, they stared at the ground in silent wonder and said
nothing. They had seen a footprint! It did not by any means resemble
that deep, well developed, and very solitary footprint at which Robinson
Crusoe is wont to stare in nursery picture-books. No; it was a print
which was totally invisible to ordinary eyes, and revealed itself to
these children of the woods in the form of a turned leaf and a cracked
twig. Such as it was, it revealed a track which the three children
followed up until they found Tom Brixton--or his body--lying on the
ground near to the little spring.

Again these children said, "Ho!" "He!" and "Hi!" respectively, in
varying tones according to their varied character. Then they commenced
a jabber, which we are quite unable to translate, and turned Tom over on
his back. The motion awoke him, for he sat up and stared.

Even that effort proved too much for him in his weak state, for he fell
back and fainted.

The Indians proved to be men of promptitude. They lifted the white man
up; one got Tom's shoulders on his back, another put his legs over his
shoulders, and thus they stalked away with him. When the first child of
the wood grew tired, the unburdened one stepped in to his relief; when
the second child grew tired, the fir