re across the road that led to
the mining-camp of Borealis, and were swarming up the sandy slope to
complete the mighty swing of the army, deploying anew to sweep far
westward through the farther half of the valley, and so at length
backward whence they came.

The tiny chap of a game-bearer, gripping the long, velvet ears of one
of the jack-rabbits tied to his horse, felt a horrid new sensation of
sliding backward when the pony began to follow the hunters up the hill.
Not only did the animal's rump seem to sink beneath him as they took
the slope, but perspiration had made it amazingly smooth and insecure.

The big fat rabbits rolled against the desperate little man in a
ponderous heap. The feet of one fell plump in his face, and seemed to
kick, with the motion of the horse. Then a buckskin thong abruptly
snapped in twain, somewhere deep in the bundle, and instantly the ears
to which the tiny man was clinging, together with the head and body of
that particular rabbit, and those of several others as well, parted
company with the pony. Gracefully they slid across the tail of the
much-relieved creature, and, pushing the tiny rider from his seat, they
landed with him plump upon the earth, and were left behind.

Unhurt, but nearly buried by the four or five rabbits thus pulled from
the load by his sudden descent from his perch, the dazed little fellow
sat up in the sand and solemnly noted the rapid departure of the Indian
army--pony, companion, and all.

Not only had his fall been unobserved by the marching braves, but the
boy with whom he had just been riding was blissfully unaware of the
fact that something behind had dismounted. The whole vast line of
Piute braves pressed swiftly on. The shots boomed and clattered, as
the hill-sides were startled by the echoes. Red, yellow, indigo--the
blankets and trappings were momentarily growing less and less distinct.

More distant became the firing. Onward, ever onward, swung the great,
long column of the hunters. Dully, then even faintly, came the noise
of the guns.

At last the firing could be heard no more. The two hundred warriors,
the ponies, the boys that rode--all were gone. Even the rabbits, that
an hour before had scampered here and there in the brush with their
furry feet, would never again go pattering through the sand. The sun
shone warmly down. The great world of valley and mountains, gray,
severe, unpeopled, was profoundly still, in that wonderful way