horses and an equal number of dogs in the part of the
Indian camp which had been thus overrun by the wild
mustangs, the turmoil, as may be imagined, was prodigious!
Yet, strange to say, no accident of a serious
nature occurred beyond the loss of several chargers.
In the midst of this exciting scene there was one
heart which beat with a nervous vehemence that well-nigh
burst it. This was the heart of Dick Varley's
horse, Charlie. Well known to him was that distant
rumbling sound that floated on the night air into the