him that he was wrong. If such a signal were kindled, it
must be clear enough to be recognized from the farther elevation, which
was more distant than the horseman.

"I shall observe the vapor as soon as they," he thought, "for my eyes
are as sharp--helloa! that beats the mischief!"

At last Warren Starr learned what it was that had alarmed his pony.

CHAPTER II.

THE VOICELESS FRIEND.

The keen eyes, instead of looking at the crest of the rocky ridge on his
right, were now centred on the ground, where they detected a small dark
speck swiftly approaching the horseman. At the first glance, the object
suggested a cannon-ball rolling with great speed toward the pony, that
was now standing still, with head erect, ears thrown forward, and the
appearance of perplexed interest in the thing, whatever it might be.

For a minute Warren Starr was unable to guess the meaning of the
singular sight. Whatever its nature, it was evident that it was aiming
to reach the rider with the least possible delay. The latter drew his
Winchester around in front, so as to be ready to receive it, his first
thought being that it was some Sioux stratagem designed to do him ill.

But while he gazed, he discovered its identity; it was a dog, running as
if its very life were at stake. The next instant young Starr perceived
something protruding from the front part of its body, resembling the
ornamental feather in an Indian's head-dress.

"It is an arrow!" he exclaimed. "The poor creature is badly wounded, and
is striving to reach me before he dies. By gracious, it's Bruno!" he
added, as a closer approach enabled him to identify the creature. "He
brings me some message."

Bruno was his favorite hound, that had accompanied him on many a hunting
excursion, and whom he loved scarcely less than Jack, his pony.

It was indeed a race with death on the part of the faithful animal.
While yet a number of rods distant, he staggered, faltered, then
gathering his energies pressed on with the last strength he could
summon, and with a low moan rolled languidly on his side, and looking
upward with a human expression to his young master, said by his action:
"I have done the best I could for you, and I am content."

Young Starr was out of the saddle like a flash, and ran forward to him.
Stooping down, he placed one arm under the head of the noble dog, and,
leaning over, touched his lips to the velvety forehead.

"My poor Bruno, they have killed you!"