The sturdy hunter set the example. Big though he was, he bounded over the bushes like a deer, followed by his comrades. While all the men of the camp were in hot pursuit of the fugitives they ran up to the horses, and each secured one, which he mounted, having previously cut the hobbles of all the rest and sent them flying over the plain. A regular fight then ensued, in which the Indians were beaten and their captives rescued. The remainder of the horses, too, were secured, and, mounted on these, the whole party returned to their village in the Mustang Valley. Here the state of things was so desolate and mournful that it was resolved all the Indians who remained should start with Quito and his wife for the Mission Station in the south. This intention was carried out the next day, and they parted with many expressions of good-will from their friends the hunters, who returned to their wild and lonesome occupations of shooting and trapping in the mountains. After a long journey the Indians reached the Mission Station, where they remained three weeks under the instruction of the missionary. At the end of that time they expressed their desire to join themselves to the followers of Jesus Christ, and were baptized. Then Quito begged that the missionary would unite him to his wife after the manner of the Christians. Of course there could be no objection to this request, so it was complied with—and thus Quito and Laughing-eye were baptized and married on the same day. [Illustration] LOST AND FOUND. A STORY OF TWO CHRISTMAS DAYS. _By EDWIN HODDER, Author of “Memories of New Zealand Life;” “Junior Clerk;” “Tossed on the Waves,” &c._ If a merry day is associated with painful memories, its charm is lost, it is a day to be avoided, one would wish to let it pass unheeded; any attempt to make it gay only increases the gloom, and if the unpleasant remembrances are indulged, they come back on the day which commemorates them with a living reality, making the mind morbid and unhappy; and cherishing dead regrets is as vain and wrong a thing as retaining the remains of a loved life, which should be buried out of one’s sight. Christmas day is not a sad and gloomy day to me now, but it was once; and then such a party as this you are giving to-night, Mr. Merry, would have been of all things in the world the one that I could not have endured, for it would have recalled so many sad circumstances to my mind, that, with all the fun and gaiety of you youngsters, I could not have thrown off the shroud of regrets which such a scene as this would have cast around me. But those days are past, and now Christmas day is one of the happiest of the year; and how all this came to pass I am going to tell you.