stood by their horses to
soothe them, but as a brook with a belt of bushes and quarter of a mile
of plain intervened between their camp and the mustangs as they flew
past, they had little or no trouble in restraining them. Not so,
however, with Charlie. At the very moment that his master was
congratulating himself on the supposed security of his position, he
wrenched the halter from the hand of him who held it, burst through the
barrier of felled trees that had been thrown round the camp, cleared the
brook at a bound, and, with a wild hilarious neigh, resumed his old
place in the ranks of the free-born mustangs of the prairie.

Little did Dick think, when the flood of horses swept past him, that his
own good steed was there, rejoicing in his recovered liberty. But
Crusoe knew it. Ay, the wind had borne down the information to his
acute nose before the living storm burst upon the camp, and when Charlie
rushed past with the long tough halter trailing at his heels, Crusoe
sprang to his side, seized the end of the halter with his teeth, and
galloped off along with him.

It was a long gallop and a tough one, but Crusoe held on, for it was a
settled principle in his mind _never_ to give in. At first the check
upon Charlie's speed was imperceptible, but by degrees the weight of the
gigantic dog began to tell, and, after a time, they fell a little to the
rear; then, by good fortune, the troop passed through a mass of
underwood, and the line, getting entangled, brought their mad career
forcibly to a close; the mustangs passed on, and the two friends were
left to keep each other company in the dark.

How long they would have remained thus is uncertain, for neither of them
had sagacity enough to undo a complicated entanglement; fortunately,
however, in his energetic tugs at the line, Crusoe's sharp teeth
partially severed it, and a sudden start on the part of Charlie caused
it to part. Before he could escape, Crusoe again seized the end of it
and led him slowly but steadily back to the Indian camp, never halting
or turning aside until he had placed the line in Dick Varley's hand.

"Hallo, pup! where have ye bin. How did ye bring him here?" exclaimed
Dick, as he gazed in amazement at his foam-covered horse.

Crusoe wagged his tail, as if to say, "Be thankful that you've got him,
Dick, my boy, and don't ask questions that you know I can't answer."

"He must ha' broke loose and jined the stampedo," remarked Joe, coming