There was mounting in hot haste, and half a hundred horsemen swept out from the dark covert of a timber and spread over the starlit prairie in pursuit of a dark object, dimly visible, flying swiftly from the human bloodhounds upon his track, but so rapidly distancing them by the remarkable speed of his horse that, before long, in despair of ever capturing the daring foe, one by one the bandits returned to camp to talk over, around the replenished camp fires, the daring of the famous scout, and wonder at his marvelous escapes from death. CHAPTER XLII. THE RESCUE. When the horseman who had so boldly approached the bandits’ bivouac, and laid two of their number dead beneath his aim, sped across the prairie with a score of horsemen at his heels, he had urged his horse to a speed which caused him to soon draw out of range of their rifles, for he was mounted upon his famous horse Midnight, a steed that had never found an equal on the plains. Having kept up his swift flight for a few miles, and observing that his pursuers had given up the chase, Buffalo Bill halted and dismounted to give his horse a short rest. His eye now caught a rosy light upon the eastern horizon, and then, as though rising from the ocean, the moon sailed upward. Intently watching the rising moon, the scout suddenly started and bent his gaze more earnestly over the prairie, for across the bright face of the luminary he distinctly saw several dark objects glide. Yes, one, two, three, four horsemen--followed by several more, glided along like specters, going at a swift pace in a southerly direction. Instantly the scout turned and tightened his saddle girths, and then looked well to his weapons. Standing by his horse, in the clear moonlight, he was a striking-looking man. Having at length discovered the direction taken by the horsemen, whose presence near at hand the rising moon had betrayed, Buffalo Bill sprang into his saddle. A word to his noble animal and he was off, skimming the prairie almost as does the sea gull skim over the sea. A rapid gallop of two miles and the tall trees of a motte loomed up before him; a few moments more placed him beneath the dark shadows of the timber. Then, turning, he glanced out over the moonlit prairie. His eyes fell upon the dark forms of half a dozen or more mounted men coming directly toward the motte. “Well, I hold the vantage ground thus far, and I’ll not yield it without a struggle, whoever they may be.” The scout pushed farther into the dense thicket, where, dismounting, he spoke a word to his horse, and the faithful animal lay down, the better to conceal him from view. A few moments passed, and presently the horsemen entered the motte and the murmur of voices was heard; then a bright light flared through the trees. “As I thought, they came here to camp for the night, and now I’ll see who they are.”