This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
THE DOG CRUSOE.
87

throat, and bring both steed and rider down upon him, Dick’s heart leaped to his throat. Had a thousand savages been rushing on him he would have flown to the rescue of his favourite; but an unexpected obstacle came in the way. His fiery little steed, excited by the headlong race and the howls of the Indians, had taken the bit in his teeth and was now unmanageable. Dick tore at the reins like a maniac, and in the height of his frenzy even raised the butt of his rifle with the intent to strike the poor horse to the earth, but his better nature prevailed. He checked the uplifted hand, and with a groan dropped the reins, and sank almost helplessly forward on the saddle; for several of the Indians had left the main body and were pursuing him alone, so that there would have been now no chance of his reaching the place.

Spiritless, and utterly indifferent to what his fate might be, Dick Varley rode along with his head drooping, and keeping his seat almost mechanically, while the mettlesome little steed flew on over wave and hollow. Gradually he awakened from this state of despair to a sense of danger. Glancing round he observed that the Indians were now far behind him, though still pursuing. He also observed that his companions were galloping miles away on the horizon to the left, and that he had foolishly allowed the savages to get between him and them. The only chance that remained for him was to outride his pursuers, and circle round towards his comrades; and this he hoped to accomplish, for his little horse had now proved itself to be superior to those of the Indians.

Urging him forward, therefore, he soon, left the savages still farther behind, and feeling confident that they could not now overtake him he reined up and dismounted. The pursuers quickly drew near, but short though it was the rest did his horse good. Vaulting into the saddle, he again stretched out, and now skirted along the margin of a wood which seemed to mark a river of considerable size.

At this moment his horse put his foot into a badger-hole, and both of them came heavily to the ground. In an instant Dick rose, picked up his gun, and leaped unhurt into the saddle. But on urging his poor horse forward he found that its shoulder was badly sprained. There was no room for mercy, however—life and death were in the balance—so he plied the lash vigorously, and the noble steed warmed into something like a run, when again it