The sounds grew nearer and nearer, but as the spot where we were encamped was surrounded with rocks and trees we could not see to any distance. At last Dick jumped up, saying he must have a look at the wolves and the animal they were chasing. Story and I quickly followed.
“They are not worth powder and shot,” observed Long Sam, but notwithstanding he came after us, as did indeed the whole party.
Just then the moon rose behind the cliffs, shedding a bright light over the rocky ground which surrounded the spot. From where we stood, we could see an animal, apparently a horse, dashing on at full speed with a savage pack of llovo wolves close at its heels. The next instant, as it came bounding on over the rocks, what was our horror to observe a female form lashed to its back.
To stop it in its mad career seemed impossible. The only hope was to shoot some of the wolves, and thus give a better chance for the escape of the horse. As I fired, I heard several other shots, and saw that most of the brutes, already at the horse’s heels, were rolled over. Still the condition of the female was perilous in the extreme. Unless we could catch our own horses, and overtake the affrighted steed, her destruction appeared inevitable. Scarcely had this thought flashed across my mind, when I saw Long Sam, who had thrown himself on horseback, galloping along with his lasso to intercept the runaway.
I ran as I had never run before, regardless of the wolves, in the same direction. As I passed by I saw that the pack had stopped and were already engaged in tearing to pieces the brutes we had shot. In an instant afterwards, it seemed, I observed Long Sam’s lasso cast with unerring aim over the neck of the frantic steed, which plunged and reared, but happily did not fall over. In another moment Sam had drawn the lasso so tightly round its neck that it was unable to move.
We sprang forward, cut the thongs which bound the female to the animal’s back, and lifting her to the ground, carried her out of danger. She still breathed, though apparently perfectly unconscious. The light of the moon showed us the features of Ellen Hargrave.
We did not stop to see what Long Sam did with the captured horse, but at once carried the young lady to the camp, when, by sprinkling her face with water and bathing her hands, she in a short time was restored to consciousness.
Her first impulse was to return thanks to heaven for her preservation. Looking up he recognised Dick and me.
“Where is Harry? Where is Mr Armitage?” she asked, evidently concluding that he must be of our party.
Dick replied that he was safe in the camp with her friends; that we had beaten the savages who had attacked them, and, finding that she had been carried off, had come in search of her. Though we did not inquire how she had been treated in