no one in the saddle.
This led Bois-Rose to the belief that his bullet had dismounted the
rider.

All at once a shrill whistle rang through the trees; and the horse
uttered a loud neigh--as if in reply--galloping off in the direction
from which the signal had come. After making several lengths through
the bushes, the horse came to a stop. Bois-Rose ran after, and in a few
bounds was beside the animal. It was still dark under the shadow of the
trees, but the Canadian could make out the form of a man upon the
ground, at that moment struggling in the act of raising himself. Just
then the horse dropped upon his knees, the man grasping the pommel of
the saddle succeeded in crawling into it; a signal started the animal to
his feet again; and before the trapper could come up to the spot, both
horse and man were fast disappearing behind the foliage of the trees.

Bois-Rose launched after them a furious malediction; and reloading his
rifle as rapidly as he could, sent a bullet in the same direction; but
the continued strokes of the horse's feet falling upon his ear told him
that his random shot had been delivered to no purpose.

Without following further, he turned in the opposite direction, and
after imitating three times in succession, the howling of the prairie
wolf--a signal for Pepe--he strode off to the spot where the yellow
jacket had fallen from the saddle.

There he perceived the grass pressed down as if where a man's body had
fallen upon it; and at about the height of a man on horseback, the
branches of the sumac tree were broken, as though the horseman had
caught at them in falling. There were no traces of blood, however--not
a drop could be seen; but a carbine lying upon the ground showed that
the horseman, in his hurry to escape, had left his weapon behind him.

"My poor Fabian!" muttered he, "this will serve for him. In these woods
a knife is not much worth; this will be a better weapon for him."

Somewhat consoled by this reflection, the trapper now turned to go back
in the direction of the camp-fire. He had not made a dozen steps, when
the sharp report of a rifle fell upon his ear.

"It is Pepe's!" he cried. "I know it. God grant he may have made a
better shot than I have done!"

Just then a second report echoed through the woods. It sounded sadly on
the ear of the Canadian--who did not recognise it--and being now the
victim of a terrible uncertainty, he ran with all speed in the direction
whe