ve in that direction. Then upon the
leaders of the right flank the black horse charged furiously, biting,
kicking, plunging like a thing possessed of ten thousand devils.
Steadily, surely the line continued to swerve.

"My God!" cried Cameron, unable to believe his eyes. "They are turning!
They are turned!"

With wild cries and discharging his revolver fair in the face of the
leaders, Cameron rushed out into the open and crossed the mouth of the
funnel.

"Go back, you fool! Go back!" yelled the man on horseback. "Go back! I
have them!" He was right. Cameron's sudden appearance gave the final and
necessary touch to the swerving movement. Across the mouth of the funnel
with its yawning deadly cut-bank, and down the side coulee, carrying
part of the fence with them, the herd crashed onward, with the black
horse hanging on their flank still biting and kicking with a kind of
joyous fury.

"Raven! Raven!" cried Cameron in glad accents. "It is Raven! Thank God,
he is straight after all!" A great tide of gratitude and admiration
for the outlaw was welling up in his heart. But even as he ran there
thundered past him an Indian on horseback, the reins flying loose and a
rifle in his hands. As he flashed past a gleam of moonlight caught his
face, the face of a demon.

"Little Thunder!" cried Cameron, whipping out his gun and firing, but
with no apparent effect, at the flying figure.

With his gun still in his hand, Cameron ran on down the coulee in the
wake of Little Thunder. Far away could be heard the roar of the rushing
herd, but nothing could be seen of Raven. Running as he had never run in
his life, Cameron followed hard upon the Indian's track, who was by this
time some hundred yards in advance. Suddenly in the moonlight, and far
down the coulee, Raven could be seen upon his black horse cantering
easily up the slope and toward the swiftly approaching Indian.

"Raven! Raven!" shouted Cameron, firing his gun. "On guard! On guard!"

Raven heard, looked up and saw the Indian bearing down upon him. His
horse, too, saw the approaching foe and, gathering himself, in two short
leaps rushed like a whirlwind at him, but, swerving aside, the Indian
avoided the charging stallion. Cameron saw his rifle go up to his
shoulder, a shot reverberated through the coulee, Raven swayed in his
saddle. A second shot and the black horse was fair upon the Indian pony,
hurling him to the ground and falling himself upon him. As the Indian
spra