us roar of the torrent. These were the
symphonies of our conflict.

For some minutes we battled upon the ledge. We were both cut and
bruised in several places, but neither of us had as yet received or
inflicted a mortal wound.

At length, after a continuous shower of blows, I succeeded in beating my
adversary back, until we found ourselves out upon the platform. There
we had ample room to wind our weapons, and we struck with more energy
than ever. After a few strokes, our tomahawks met, with a violent
concussion, that sent them flying from our hands.

Neither dared stoop to regain his weapon; and we rushed upon each other
with naked arms, clutched, wrestled a moment, and then fell together to
the earth. I thought my antagonist had a knife. I must have been
mistaken, otherwise he would have used it; but without it, I soon found
that in this species of encounter he was my master. His muscular arms
encircled me until my ribs cracked under the embrace. We rolled along
the ground, over and over each other. Oh, God! we were nearing the edge
of the precipice.

I could not free myself from his grasp. His sinewy fingers were across
my throat. They clasped me tightly around the trachea, stopping my
breath. He was strangling me.

I grew weak and nerveless. I could resist no longer. I felt my hold
relax. I grew weaker and weaker. I was dying. I was--I--Oh, Heaven!
pard--on. Oh--!

------------------------------------------------------------------------

I could not have been long insensible; for when consciousness returned I
was still warm, sweating from the effects of the struggle, and my wounds
were bleeding freshly and freely. I felt that I yet lived. I saw that
I was still upon the platform; but where was my antagonist? Why had not
he finished me? Why had not he flung me over the cliff?

I rose upon my elbow and looked around. I could see no living things
but my own horse and that of the Indian galloping over the platform,
kicking and plunging at each other.

But I heard sounds, sounds of fearful import, like the hoarse, angry
worrying of dogs, mingling with the cries of a human voice--a voice
uttered in agony!

What could it mean? I saw that there was a break in the platform, a
deep cut in the rock; and out of this the sounds appeared to issue.

I rose to my feet, and, tottering towards the spot, looked in. It was
an awful sight to look upon. The gully was some ten feet in depth; and
at