He saw the tallest of the twain whirl a rope above his head.
After three circles, the noose suddenly shot from the Pawnee’s hand, quivered for a moment in mid-air, and then dropped over the boy’s head!
A quick jerk, which almost threw the young Ohioan on his face, tightened the lasso around his body, and he saw the savages grip the lariat tightly, while a yell of triumph pealed from their throats.
It was now a battle between the Pawnee and the quicksand!
CHAPTER VI.
WHITE LASSO’S CAPTURE.
“Heaven help me!” broke from Charley Shafer’s lips, when he found himself in the perilous situation described in chapter fourth.
As Frontier Shack sprung to the ground to attend to the black stallion, Charley immediately assumed the saddle. He feared that Tecumseh’s restlessness might result in some wild freak, and he hoped to reach the bridle and curb his ire while his master secured his new prize. But the boy’s hand had not disengaged the bridle from the thick mane, when the iron-gray bounded forward.
Young Shafer felt his comrade hurled from his perch, and found himself jerked forward by the bridle which his fingers tightly clutched.
Still, however, he retained his presence of mind, and discovering at once that he could not stop Tecumseh with the bridle, he grappled the long gray hairs of the mane with his hands, and held on for dear life.
Tecumseh was conscious that he had a rider, for he tried to shake the youth off as he bounded over the prairie like a rocket; but he found himself unable to do so.