“I s’pose it must have been about the time you left us last night, that Biddon woke me up, and told me to follow him, as there was a _powerful_ chance to get a couple of hosses for you and me. I asked him where you could be, and he said he s’posed you’d gone further up-stream to sleep by yourself, though he hadn’t seen you go. Howsumever, we wasn’t worried, as we thought you were old enough to take care of yourself, so we started down the bed of the stream. We went about half a mile, when Biddon showed me a small camp-fire, burned down to a few coals and ashes; but there was enough light to show us two hosses picketed a few yards away, and we seen the feet of a couple of redskins turned toward the fire. Biddon said as how they was a couple of hunters, sound asleep, and we might _borrow_ their horses, if I didn’t make too much noise. He told me to stand still, and keep my gun pointed at them, and the minute one stirred to shoot him, and then rush in, and dispatch the other. I promised to do so, and he stole around to the hosses on his hands and knees. He had cut both the lariats and was leading them away, when one of the Indians raised his head and looked around, and as soon as he seen the hosses moving off, give a grunt and jumped up and ran toward them. I remembered it was my duty to shoot, and as the Indian was running purty fast, I aimed about ten feet ahead of him, supposing, of course, the villain would git there as soon as the bullet did; but, I’ll be hanged if he wasn’t mean enough to stop, and let the bullet be wasted. My gun kicked like blazes, and the Ingins I s’pose thought a whole tribe was upon them; for setting up a great howl, they _skooted_ off in the darkness, leaving us alone with the animals. Running back, I overtook Biddon, who was riding along as though nothing had happened. He asked me to ride and of course I jumped on, and here I am. But which hoss do you want?” “I do not see as there is much room for choice,” I replied; “both are splendid animals, and a most opportune blessing.” “If it’s all the same to you, this gentleman is mine;” and handing the bridle to me, he vaulted upon the other. The latter was a magnificent Indian pony, of a deep bay color, probably captured when very young, and high spirited and fiery. Both manifested considerable uneasiness, knowing they were in the hands of strangers, and Nat’s made one or two efforts to dislodge him; but he was a good horseman, and maintained his place with apparent ease despite the struggles, which were frantic and desperate at first. Mine was somewhat larger, of a coal-black color, and with as much spirit and fire as the other, but in a few moments we had them both under perfect control.