he'll pay no attention to small
game, or even to a deer."

Selim was at the end of a long lariat about fifty feet away, and having
eaten for a long time and having rested fully he had taken position as
if he realized thoroughly his duties as watcher of the little camp. He
was a powerful bay with brilliant, alert eyes that young Clarke saw
shining through the dusk, and he walked slowly back and forth within the
range allowed by his tether.

"Didn't I tell you?" said Boyd, with delight. "Look at him now, taking
up his duties as a man. That horse can do everything but talk, and for
that reason, while he does many wise things, he never says a foolish
one. Doesn't he fill you chock full of confidence, Will?"

"He certainly does, Jim. I know he'll be a much better sentinel than I
could make of myself. I'll go to sleep, sure that we'll be well
protected."

Although the hunter found sleep soon, Will, who did not need it so
badly, lay awake long and he was interested in watching Selim, who was
justifying his master's praise. The horse, for all the world like a
vigilant sentinel, walked back and forth, and whenever his head was
turned toward the little camp the lad saw the great eyes shining.

"Good Selim!" he said to himself. "Good and watchful Selim!"

In all the immensity and loneliness of the wilderness he felt himself
drawn to the animals, at least to those that were not beasts of prey. It
was true not only of Selim but of the other horses that they could do
everything but talk, and they were the best friends of Boyd and himself.

His trust in the sentinel now absolute, he followed Boyd into peaceful
oblivion, and he did not come out of it until dawn.

CHAPTER II

THE NARROW ESCAPE

When he awoke a sun of great brilliancy was shining, and over him arched
the high skies of the great west. The air was thin and cool, easy to
breathe and uplifting, and in the bracing morning he did not feel the
loneliness and immensity of the wilderness. Boyd had already built a
little fire among the bushes, and was warming some strips of dried beef
over the flames.

"Here's your breakfast, Will," he said. "Beef, a few crackers, and
water. Coffee would taste mighty good, but we can't afford to be taking
it every morning, or we'd soon use up all we have. This is one of the
mornings we skip it."

"I can stand it if you can," said Will cheerfully, "and it seems to me
we ought to be saving our other stores, too. You'll have t