Ned Chadmund was too wise to go contrary to the instincts of the mustang, which, at such a time knew more than did he of the dangers of the country. The boy, however, supposed that it was some wild animal, probably a grizzly bear, which alarmed the steed. He wondered however, that if such were the fact, why the brute did not give some more tangible evidence of his presence. He sat for a moment debating whether he should make an attempt to enter the wooded ravine from another direction. He had fixed upon this place as the one in which to spend a couple of hours or more, and as no similar resting-place was in sight, he was reluctant to start ahead again. But something whispered to him that the best thing he could do would be to leave without an instant's delay. That strange stillness resting upon those stunted trees and undergrowth had a meaning more significant than anything in the shape of a grizzly bear.

"Come, Pet, we're off again."

The mustang wheeled to one side, and bounded away with the old speed, which was more enjoyable to him than a moderate pace. At the very instant of doing so, a mounted Apache shot out from the far end of the ravine, and his horse bounded directly across the path of the young fugitive. The steed of the latter saw the game so well that he needed no direction, and he turned with such suddenness that Ned narrowly escaped being thrown off his back. Quick as he was he had scarcely time to change the direction he was pursuing, when the rider, to his dismay, observed a second Apache issue from the other end of the ravine, and thus, in a twinkling, as it may be said, he was placed between two fires.

It all took place with such marvelous suddenness that the lad was completely baffled and bewildered, and, not knowing what to do, wisely left the course of action to the mustang. At the same moment, he comprehended how it was that, while he assured himself that he had outwitted the Apaches, they had completely checkmated him. Their falling back and giving up the chase was simply a ruse to throw him off his guard. It had succeeded to perfection. While he was plodding along over the prairie, the Apaches had circled around, gone ahead of him, and, ensconcing themselves in the woods, had patiently waited for him to ride into their arms.

The sagacious mustang made another quick whirl, and shot to the right, aiming to pass directly between the two horsemen. Seeing this, they both did their best to head him off. At the best it was to be a narrow chance, and Ned again threw himself forward and clasped his arms about the neck of the faithful pony. He could not shut out the sight of his ferocious pursuers, and as the three neared each other with the speed of the whirlwind, he observed that each was loosely swinging several coils of rope about his head. He knew what that meant. Determined upon capturing him, they were about to call the lasso into requisition.

But they could not "noose" him when his head was thrown forward in this fashion, and resting closely against the soft mane of the mustang. He was certain of that, for there was nothing for the spinning coil to seize. And yet he saw distinctly the warrior who was nearest him whirling the thong in swifter and swifter circles above his head in a way that showed that he meant to fling it at something.

What could the target be?

Whiz—whiz! Out shot the loop like the dart of a rattlesnake, not at the head of the frightened lad, but at that of the mustang!

Ah! but the animal was intelligent and equal to the occasion. That round, clear eye saw what was coming, and he was ready.

The loop, guided with unerring precision, and thrown with great power, was scarcely over the ears of the creature, when he dropped his head like a flash. The coil, instead of passing over his nose, dropped like a tossed wreath upon the top of his head, slid along his neck, and over the crown and back of Ned Chadmund, who shivered as if he felt the squirming of a cobra along his spine. The mustang burst into a tremendous gait at this moment, and was drawing away from his pursuers so rapidly that the lasso dropped off his haunches and the flying pony was almost instantly beyond its reach.

But the second Apache was near at hand and threw his thong from a closer point, and with a venomous spitefulness that would not be evaded. He evidently knew the horse, and was determined upon securing him. The wonderful mustang, however, was equal to the occasion, and, with the same flash-like motion, his beautiful head dropped still lower than before, and the same useless sliding along his back was repeated.

His speed was now tremendous, and he drew away so rapidly from both horsemen that neither of them gained a second opportunity to try the lasso upon him. Ned did not seek to control the motions or direction of the noble steed. It knew better than did he what to do, and the boy only clung to him the tighter, and prayed to Heaven to guard them both from harm.

It was not to be expected that the Apaches would submit quietly to be baffled in this manner. Unable to capture either horse or rider, they still had their rifles, and did not hesitate to call them into requisition the moment it became apparent that no other recourse was at their command.

At the moment of firing perhaps fifty yards separated pursuer and pursued. The two guns were discharged so nearly simultaneously, that they might have well been mistaken for one. The escape of Ned was a narrow one. He felt one of the bullets pierce his clothing, and a sting in the hand told him that he had been slightly wounded. At the same moment he felt a peculiar twitch or quiver of the steed, which indicated that he also had been hit. It was like the jar of the smoothly-moving machinery when some slight obstruction gets into the works. Still there was no abatement of the tremendous speed of the magnificent little animal, and Ned concluded that the hurt was not a serious one. A minute later two more reports were heard, but they were faint and far away, and the bullets sped wide of the mark.

All danger was passed from that quarter, and once more Ned straightened up, and, looking about him, felt that the Indian mustang he bestrode had been the means of saving his life. But for him he would have been in the hands of the Apaches long since.

"I wonder whether there are Indians in every bush?" he said, as his eyes roamed over the prairie in search of some place of shelter. "They seem to be watching for me from every tree in the country. Well, my good horse, we shall have to keep on the go till dark comes, when we'll get some chance to creep off and hide."

Looking to the southward, a wooded section was to be seen, but Ned concluded to give all such places a wide berth for the present. He had missed recapture by too narrow a chance to risk it blindly again. A long distance to the northwest he discerned a range of hills of moderate elevation, and it occurred to him that there was a suitable place in which to spend the coming night. By journeying forward at this easy, swinging pace, he calculated upon reaching them about nightfall, and in the shelter which they offered he was confident of being able to hide away beyond the vision of the most vigilant Apache or Comanche.

"What has become of those fellows?" he abruptly asked himself, as his eye glanced hastily around in search of the hunters from whom he had now been separated the better portion of twenty-four hours. "I can't understand how we got so far apart. If they meant the whole thing as a joke, I think it is played out by this time."

He was a little nettled when he came to reflect that the parting was probably arranged by Dick and Tom for the purpose of giving him a lesson in prairie traveling and prairie life. Perhaps they believed that some amusement might be obtained in this way.

"If they think I can't get along without 'em, I'll show them their mistake," he said to himself. "There can't be many days' travel between me and Fort Havens, and so long as I've got such a horse—he knows better than they can how to keep me out of such scrapes—"

At this juncture he was startled by the action of the mustang. He was walking along, when he began staggering from side to side. Then he paused, as if to steady himself. A groan followed and he sank heavily to the ground, rolling upon his side so quickly that his rider narrowly escaped being crushed beneath him. And then, as the dismayed Ned sprang to his feet, he saw that his loved mustang was dead!