There could be no doubt that all the animals as well as their riders heard the command, which was loud enough to penetrate the woods for half a mile. Prince being the nearest, surely must have noted the order, but he seemed to think that, inasmuch as the horses ahead of him increased their speed, it was proper for him to do the same. At any rate he did it, and succeeded so well that his owner saw the space widening between them. By this time Victor knew that Deerfoot was at the bottom of it all. No man can do his best when laughing or shouting, and the pursuer ceased his call and bent all his energies to overtaking the fleeing horses. He thought the leader would soon show some consideration for him and slacken his pace, but the Shawanoe seemed to be stern and unsympathizing that forenoon, for he maintained the gallop, with the others doing the same, and the task of the running youngster loomed up as impossible. It wouldn’t do to get mad and sulk, for no one would pay any attention to him—least of all Deerfoot, who liked fun as well as anybody. Besides, the exercise promised to do the youth a world of good. But fortune came to his relief when least expected. Victor had traveled this trail so often that he knew it almost as well as Deerfoot. He remembered it made a sharp curve to the left not far in advance. When he caught sight of the young Shawanoe, therefore, calmly galloping around the bend, the lad dived among the trees and sped at a reckless rate. “They ain’t so smart as they think they are! I’ll beat ’em yet—confound it!” He thought surely his head had been lifted from his shoulders, for at that moment a projecting maple limb, not quite as high as his crown, slipped under his chin and almost hoisted him off his feet. He speedily found he was intact and had suffered little more than a shock to his feelings. He was quickly at it again and soon caught sight of Deerfoot rising and sinking with the motion of his horse and the others stringing behind him. A moment later Victor leaped into the trail, recoiling just enough to let the leader pass him as he stood. But Deerfoot reined up and stared at him as if in wonder. “Does my brother love to wander in the woods that he should leave his saddle?” was the innocent query of the dusky wag. “You think you know a good deal, don’t you? Wait till I get a chance; I’ll pay you for this,” was the half-impatient answer. “Deerfoot is so scared by the words of his brother that he may fall off his horse,” said the Shawanoe with mock alarm. “Will he not forgive Deerfoot because he did not stop when he heard his brother crying behind him?” “You go on. I’ll catch you one of these days and make you sorry.”