Soon he heard steps approaching, and an Indian speaking to the dog.
“It is only one,” thought Wilder, and he decided that he could easily put that one out of the way, and might then wait a little longer for his friend. He concealed himself, therefore, behind the trunk of a large tree, confident that the dog would bring the Indian to him.
So it happened. The Indian followed the dog to the tree, which he approached, cautiously at first, and then boldly, having convinced himself that the dog had only discovered some animal, which had taken refuge there. As soon as he was near enough, Wilder stepped out, and struck at him with his knife.
In the darkness the blow was badly aimed. It made a mortal wound; but the Arapaho had strength enough before he fell to clinch his adversary, and to utter a piercing yell. Wilder hastened to give him his death-blow; but the mischief was done, and the dog ran toward the village, barking more violently than ever.
It was time to be gone. With a muttered imprecation on his bad luck and on the miserable dog, Wilder hastened to his horse, cast loose the hopple, and sprung upon his back. He was none too soon. Already the air resounded with the shouts of the Arapahoes, and he could hear them hastening through the forest toward the point from which the yells had proceeded. He spurred his horse and rode rapidly away from the voices, with the villainous dog close at his heels.
The timber was so close, the darkness was so dense, and the overhanging boughs were so troublesome, that Wilder did not make such progress as he wished to make, and he knew that his pursuers were gaining on him. The dog would keep them on the trail, in spite of the darkness, and it was evident that they must overtake him, unless fortune should favor him in some way.
It was with great joy, therefore, that he emerged from the forest, and found himself on a level plain, unbroken by tree or shrub. The dog was still barking at his heels; but he felt that he could now easily distance his pursuers, and with a shout of triumph, he gave his horse the spur, and galloped furiously away.
He had kept up this headlong pace but a few minutes, when his horse suddenly stopped, with his fore feet planted on the verge of a precipice, and stood still as a stone, trembling all over with fear.
Wilder, carried on by the momentum which he had acquired from the rapid motion of his horse, did not participate in this sudden stoppage, but was thrown violently forward over the head of the animal. He felt himself falling swiftly through the air; then his breath left him, and he knew no more.