here was an expression of fierce hatred in the chief's countenance
as he pointed to the advancing horseman.

"Well, then," answered Seguin, apparently assenting to the wishes of the
other, "he shall not escape, whether he sees it or no. But do not use
your gun; they are not ten miles off, yonder behind the swell. We can
easily surround him. If not, I can overtake him on this horse, and
here's another."

As Seguin uttered the last speech he pointed to Moro. "Silence!" he
continued, lowering his voice. "Hish-sh!"

The silence became death-like. Each man sat pressing his horse with his
knees, as if thus to hold him at rest.

The Navajo had now reached the border of the deserted camp; and
inclining to the left, he galloped down the line, scattering the wolves
as he went. He sat leaning to one side, his gaze searching the ground.
When nearly opposite to our ambush, he descried the object of his
search, and sliding his feet out of the stirrup, guided his horse so as
to shave closely past it. Then, without reining in, or even slacking
his pace, he bent over until his plume swept the earth, and picking up
the bow, swung himself back into the saddle.

"Beautiful!" exclaimed the bull-fighter.

"By gosh! it's a pity to kill him," muttered a hunter; and a low murmur
of admiration was heard among the men.

After a few more springs, the Indian suddenly wheeled, and was about to
gallop back, when his eye was caught by the ensanguined object upon the
rock. He reined in with a jerk, until the hips of his horse almost
rested upon the prairie, and sat gazing upon the body with a look of
surprise.

"Beautiful!" again exclaimed Sanchez; "carambo, beautiful!"

It was, in effect, as fine a picture as ever the eye looked upon. The
horse with his tail scattered upon the ground, with crest erect and
breathing nostril, quivering under the impulse of his masterly rider;
the rider himself, with his glancing helmet and waving plumes, his
bronze complexion, his firm and graceful seat, and his eye fixed in the
gaze of wonder.

It was, as Sanchez had said, a beautiful picture--a living statue; and
all of us were filled with admiration as we looked upon it. Not one of
the party, with perhaps an exception, should have liked to fire the shot
that would have tumbled it from its pedestal.

Horse and man remained in this attitude for some moments. Then the
expression of the rider's countenance suddenly changed. His eye
wandered wit