s and
hobbles, and dashed wildly about. To add to the confusion at that
moment, a cloud passed over the moon and threw the whole scene into deep
obscurity. Blind with terror, which was probably increased by the din
of their own mad flight, the galloping troop came on, and, with a sound
like the continuous roar of thunder that for an instant drowned the yell
of dog and man, they burst upon the camp, trampling over packs and
skins, and dried meat, etcetera, in their headlong speed, and
overturning several of the smaller tents. In another moment they swept
out upon the plain beyond, and were soon lost in the darkness of the
night, while the yelping of dogs, as they vainly pursued them, mingled
and gradually died away with the distant thunder of their retreat.

This was a "_stampedo_," one of the most extraordinary scenes that can
be witnessed in the western wilderness.

"Lend a hand, Henri," shouted Joe, who was struggling with a powerful
horse. "Wot's comed over yer brains, man? This brute 'll git off if ye
don't look sharp."

Dick and Henri both answered to the summons, and they succeeded in
throwing the struggling animal on its side and holding it down until its
excitement was somewhat abated. Pee-eye-em had also been successful in
securing his favourite hunter, but nearly every other horse belonging to
the camp had broken loose and joined the whirlwind gallop, but they
gradually dropped out, and, before morning, the most of them were
secured by their owners. As there were at least two thousand horses and
an equal number of dogs in the part of the Indian camp which had been
thus over-run by the wild mustangs, the turmoil, as may be imagined, was
prodigious! Yet, strange to say, no accident of a serious nature
occurred beyond the loss of several chargers.

In the midst of this exciting scene there was one heart there which beat
with a nervous vehemence that well-nigh burst it. This was the heart of
Dick Varley's horse, Charlie. Well-known to him was that distant
rumbling sound that floated on the night air into the fur-trader's camp
where he was picketted close to Cameron's tent. Many a time had he
heard the approach of such a wild troop, and often, in days not long
gone by, had his shrill neigh rung out as he joined and led the
panic-stricken band. He was first to hear the sound, and by his restive
actions, to draw the attention of the fur-traders to it. As a
precautionary measure they all sprang up and