stride taken by
the untiring little horse had its effect upon the lad, for it was one
nearer to safety.

Still it was a terrible ride, for it was only after traversing some
stony plain or patch of rock that he dared draw rein and take a few
hours' rest, while his steed fed and recruited its energies as well.

He would lie down merely meaning to rest, and then drop off fast asleep,
to awake in an agony of dread, tighten his saddle-girths, and go on
again at speed, gazing fearfully behind him, expecting to see the
Apaches ready to spring upon him and end his career.

But they were still, though he knew it not, far behind. All the same,
though, they kept up their untiring tracking of the trail day after day
till it was too dark to see, and the moment it was light enough to
distinguish a footprint they were after him again.

Such a pertinacious quest could apparently have but one result--that of
the quarry of these wolves being hunted down at last.

The days glided by, and Bart's store of provisions held out, for he
could hardly eat, only drink with avidity whenever he reached water.
The terrible strain had made his face thin and haggard, his eyes
bloodshot, and his hands trembled as he grasped the rein--not from fear,
but from nervous excitement consequent upon the little sleep he
obtained, his want of regular food, and the feeling of certainty that he
was being dogged by his untiring foes.

Sometimes to rest himself--a strange kind of rest, it may be said, and
yet it did give him great relief--he would spring from Black Boy's back,
and walk by his side as he toiled up some rough slope, talking to him
and encouraging him with pats of the hand, when the willing little
creature strove again with all its might on being mounted; in fact,
instead of having to whip and spur, Bart found more occasion to hold in
his patient little steed.

And so the time went on, till it was as in a dream that Bart recognised
the various halting-places they had stayed at in the journey out, while
the distance seemed to have become indefinitely prolonged. All the
while, too, there was that terrible nightmare-like dread haunting him
that the enemy were close behind, and scores of times some deer or other
animal was magnified into a mounted Indian in full war-paint ready to
bound upon his prey.

It was a terrible journey--terrible in its loneliness as well as in its
real and imaginary dangers; for there was a good deal of fancied dread
t