The Chase, the Capture, and the Revelation.  
A stern chase is usually a long one. There are not many proverbs the truth of which comes more powerfully home than this—at least to those who have had the misfortune to engage in many such chases. To make a slant at a fugitive, so as to cut him off, or to make a short cut and head him, is pleasant if you be strong in wind and limb, but to creep up right astern, inch by inch, foot by foot, yard by yard, and to overcome him at last by sheer superiority and perseverance, is a disheartening task.
 
That was the task we undertook the night we left the Indian camp, and went off at full gallop over the rolling prairie in pursuit of the scoundrel Attick and his crew.
 
But Indians are by nature persevering, and, for myself, I was roused to the highest pitch of indignation and anxiety. Salamander and I had ridden far and fast that day, besides which we had eaten only a mouthful of pemmican and biscuit since breakfast; nevertheless, under the excitement of the moment our weariness vanished, our hunger fled, and we engaged in the pursuit with all the ardour of the youngest brave among them.
 
Fortunately I had secured two exceptionally fine horses, so that they were quite able to compete with the inferior, though fresher, horses of the Indians.
 
“How long is it since you discovered that they were gone?” said I, as I galloped alongside of Big Otter.
 
“Not more than an hour,” he replied.
 
“Do you think they had a long start before that?”
 
“I cannot tell. Perhaps two hours, perhaps four. Certainly not five, for they were seen in camp when the sun was high.”
 
I was greatly relieved to learn that they had not got a longer start of us, and very thankful that I had come up in time to join the pursuers. I was calming down somewhat under the influence of these thoughts, when I had a sudden feeling of being shot from a cannon into the air. This was succeeded by a sensation of having my nose converted into a ploughshare, and that was instantly followed by oblivion!
 
In the uncertain light my steed had put his foot in a badger hole—that was all, but it sufficed to check the pace of the whole party!
 
On recovering I found my head on Salamander’s knee. I felt dreamy and indifferent. “What has happened?” I asked, in English.
 
Our interpreter, who had a tendency to answer in whatever language he was addressed—whether English, French, or Indian—replied—
 
“Yoos bin a-most busted, sar!”
 
Suddenly the true state of the case flashed upon me. Langour fled. I leaped up, and scrambled somehow into the saddle.
 
“Have I been long insensible, Salamander?” I asked, as we resumed our headlong pace.
 
“On’y what time I kin count twinty, sar.”
 
Rejoiced to find that no longer time had been lost, I galloped along contentedly, and in silence, though with a rather confused feeling in my brain, and a sensation of being possessed of six noses rolled into one.
 
Although no one, as I have said, seemed to lead the party when we started, I soon found that Big Otter was really our chief. He rode ahead of us, and more than once pulled up to dismount and examine the trail. On these occasions the rest of the party halted without orders, and awaited his decision. Once we were completely thrown off the scent. The fugitives had taken to a wooded tract of country, and it required our utmost caution not to lose the trail.
 
Presently we came to a small stream and crossed it, but the trail ended abruptly here. We were not surprised, being well aware of the common Indian device of wading in a stream, which holds no footprints, so as to throw pursuers out. Dividing our force, one party went up stream, the other down, but although eager, sharp, and practised eyes examined the banks, they could not discover the spot where the fugitives had again taken to dry land. Returning to the place where we had divided, Big Otter again examined the trail with minute care, going down on his knees to turn over the blades of grass and examine the footprints.
 
“Strange,” said I, impatiently, “that so simple a device should baffle us.”
 
As I spoke, the chief arose, and, dark though it was, I could see a gleam of intelligence on his swarthy visage.
 
“Attick thinks he is wise,” he said, in a low voice, “but he has no more brains than a rabbit. He was from childhood an idiot.”
 
Having paid his tribesman this compliment, he remounted, and, to my surprise, went straight back the way we had come.
 
“What means this!” I asked, unable to restrain my impatience.
 
“Attick has doubled back, that is all. If there had been more light we should easily have seen that. We shall soon find the place where the trail breaks off again.”
 
The Indian was right. On clearing the wooded land we found that the moon was up, and we followed the trail easily. Coming to a hillock in the open ground, the top of which was covered with thick and stunted bushes, we rode into them and there experienced much difficulty in picking our way.
 
Suddenly Big Otter turned at a right angle from the line we had been hitherto pursuing, and, putting his horse to the gallop, held on with the decision of one who knows he is on the right road.
 
As the prairie was open, and the moon growing brighter, we had now no difficulty in following up the fugitives, and pressed on as fast as our horses could go.
 
Daylight came and found us still galloping; but as there was no sign of those whom we pursued, and as our horses were getting tired, we halted at a small stream for a short rest and breakfast.
 
“They must be well mounted,” said I, as we sat on the banks of the stream appeasing our hunger with masses of dried buffalo meat, while the horses munched the grass near us.
 
“Attick is always well mounted,” replied Big Otter; “but his men may not be so well off, and women are difficult to urge on when they are unwilling.”
 
“Then you have no doubt that we shall overtake them?” I asked.
 
“We must overtake them,” was the laconic reply. I felt somewhat comforted by the decision of the Indian’s tone, and a good deal more so by his ordering his warriors to remount before half an hour had passed. He did not however, press on as hard as before, fearing, no doubt that the horses would break down.
 
I felt assured that Attick would not dare to halt until he believed himself almost beyond pursuit; and, as the chase therefore bade fair to be a very long one, it seemed wise thus to spare the horses.
 
About noon, however, we passed through a strip of woodland, and, on coming out at the other side, observed a party of horsemen on the distant horizon.
 
“Waugh!” exclaimed Big Otter, shaking the reins of his steed and going off at racing speed. We soon began to overhaul the cavalcade, and then perceived that they were doing their utmost to get away from us.
 
“It is Attick and his party—is it not?” I asked, excitedly.
 
“It is Attick,” was the brief reply.
 
Another belt of woodland lay a little to the right on the horizon. The fugitives headed for it. We urged our horses to their utmost speed and soon dashed through the belt of wood, expecting to see the fugitives on the plain beyond. What was our surprise, then, to find them assembled in a group, calmly tying up their horses, and kindling a fire as if for the purpose of cooking their mid-day meal. As most of the men had laid aside their guns, and we outnumbered them by two to one, we checked our headlong course, and trotted quietly up to them.
 
To my great joy I saw, as we approached, that the girl who stooped to kindle the fire was Waboose. Her mother sat on a bank near her, looking very pale and worn.
 
Attick, who still carried his gun in the hollow of his left arm, expressed well-feigned surprise at seeing us.
 
“Big Otter seems to be on the war-path,” he said, “but I have seen no enemies.”
 
“Big Otter’s enemy stands before him,” returned our leader, sternly. “Attick has been very foolish. Why did he run away with the daughter of Weeum the Good?”
 
“Attick scorns to run away with a squaw. Waboose agreed to go with him on the hunt. There she is: ask her.”
 
This was a bold stroke of the wily savage. Instead of flying from us, he pretended to have been merely hurrying after a band of buffalo, which was said to be moving southward, and that he had halted in the chase for a short rest and food. This plan he had hastily adopted, on perceiving that it was impossible to escape us, having previously warned Waboose tha............