er his prostrate
prey, when the attention of both Mr Rawlings and himself was suddenly
distracted from all thoughts of hunting, and everything pertaining to
it, by the faint echo of a rifle-shot in the distance, again followed
rapidly by another; and then, immediately afterwards, the sound of Seth
Allport's voice appealing to them for aid, in ringing accents that rose
above the report of the last shot.

"Help! Ahoy, there! help!"

STORY ONE, CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

SAILOR BILL CAPTURED.

"Good heavens!" exclaimed Mr Rawlings, as he and Ernest Wilton looked
at one another for a second in blank consternation--"I hope nothing
serious has happened!" And he was just about to dash into the river and
wade across to the other side, in the direction from whence Seth's shout
for succour came, when the young engineer stopped him.

"You'd better wait a minute," said Ernest. "The prairie is a wide
place, and sounds seem to come from one point when in reality they
emanate from an entirely different spot; so, in hurrying thus to Seth's
assistance, you may take the longest way to reach him. Let us return to
the place where he and the boy crossed the stream; and, as soon as we
reach the other bank opposite and find their track I'll put Wolf on the
scent, and we'll come up with them much more quickly than you could do
by crossing here and spending some time perhaps in hunting about in the
brushwood over there before you could find any trace of his footsteps."

"You're right," said Mr Rawlings. "Two heads are better than one.
But, pray lose no time about it," he added, as Seth's call was again
heard, sounding more loudly than before--

"Help! ahoy, there! Help!"

The path back to where the entire party had halted on the bank of the
river before separating, according to Mr Rawlings' suggestion, was not
difficult to trace. Then, fording the stream at the point where Seth
and Sailor Bill had waded across, they searched about for their tracks
up and down a short distance until they were likewise found, when their
task became comparatively easy, as the dog's aid was now of use.

"Hi, Wolf!" said Ernest Wilton, drawing his hand over the footmarks of
Seth's heavy boots, where they entered the dense mass of brushwood below
the pine-trees. "Good dog! Fetch 'em out! Hi!"

Wolf was all attention in an instant.

Looking up into his master's face with a low whine of inquiry as if to
learn what he exactly meant him to do, and then