oss, or the hoss gits clur off.'

"Now, I know'd you wur well mounted, but I knowd you wur arter the
fastest critter on all these parairas; so I sez to Bill, sez I: `Billee,
thur boun for a long gallup.' Sez Bill: `Thet ur sartin.'

"Wal! Bill and me tuk the idee in our heads, thet you mout git lost,
for we seed the white hoss wur a makin for the big paraira. It ain't
the biggest paraira in creashun, but it ur one of the wust to git
strayed on. Yur greenhorns wur all gone back, so Bill and me catched up
our critters, an as soon as we kud saddle 'em, put arter you. When we
kumd out in the paraira, we seed no signs o' you, 'ceptin yur trail.
Thet we follered up; but it wur night long afore we got half way hyur,
an wur obleeged to halt till sun-up.

"Wal--in the mornin, the trail wur nurly blind, on account o' the rain;
an it tuk us a good spell afore we reached the gully. `Thur,' sez Bill,
`the hoss hes jumped in, an hyur's the trail o' the young fellur leadin
down the bank.' Wal, we wur jest turn in to go down, when we seed yur
own hoss a good ways off on the paraira, 'ithout saddle or bridle. We
rid straight for him, an when we got closter, we seed somethin on the
groun, right under the hoss's nose. Thet somethin turned out to be
yurself an the grizzly, lyin in grups, as quiet as a kupple o' sleepin
'possums. Yur hoss wur a squealin like a bag o' wild-cats, an at fust
Bill an me thort you hed gone under. But upon a closter view, we seed
you wur only a faintin, while the bar wur as dead as a buck. Of coorse
we sot about docterin you, to fotch you roun agin."

"But the steed? the white steed?"

"Bill hyur grupped him in the gully. A leetle further down it's stopped
up wi' big rocks. We knowd thet, for we'd been over this groun' afore.
We knowd the hoss kudn't a got over the rocks, an Bill went arter an
foun him, on a ledge whur he hed clomb out o' reech o' the flood; an
then he lazooed the critter, an fotched 'im up hyur. Now, young fellur,
you've got the hul story."

"An the hoss," added Garey, rising from his recumbent position, "he's
yourn, capt'n. Ef you hadn't rid him down, I couldn't a roped him so
easy. He's yourn, ef yu'll accept o' him."

"Thanks, thanks! not for the gift alone, but I may thank you for my
life. But for you, I might never have left this spot. Thanks! old
comrades, thanks!"

Every point was now cleared up. There was mystery no longer, though,
from an expression which Ga