"Them devilish Apaches has been about camp all day," said Pete Tompkins, stopping to speak to Kenneth. "I seen some of 'em goin' up canyon jest 'fore dark." "We must go to Miss Bright's rescue at once!" said Kenneth excitedly. "I'm with ye," said Pete Tompkins. "If a blanked savage harms that air schoolma'am I'll smash his skull with the butt o' my gun. I'll jine y'r party. Let's take all the hounds. We're likely ter run across more'n one Apache. Hello, kids!" he called out. "Jine a rescue party. The schoolma'am's went up canyon ter tend sick squaw,--the Mexican's woman. Them devilish Apaches is up through the canyon, an' we're afeared they'll capture schoolma'am." Ten well-armed men, some mounted, some unmounted, started up the canyon. On their way, they met John Clayton, who joined them. His horse was neck and neck with Kenneth's. "Good God!" said the former to his companion. "What may have happened to Miss Bright? What may yet happen to her?" Kenneth made no reply, but his face was tense. These two men were in advance, closely followed by Jack Harding and Pete Tompkins, on their Mexican ponies. Suddenly, the party heard the distant cry of wolves, and--was it a human voice?--they strained their ears to hear. It was a human voice, a woman's voice. They dug their spurs into their horses' sides, and fairly flew. As they were journeying up the canyon, the savage, with his captive in his arms, was speeding down the canyon. Suddenly he turned, and took the trail leading towards the Apache reservation. Esther's song for help died on her lips. Every moment seemed eternity; every step, miles away from hope of rescue. Then with the energy born of despair, she sang again so that her song reached the ears of her rescuers: "Abide with me! Fast falls the eventide. The darkness deepens-- Lord, with me abide! When other helpers fail and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, O, abide with me!" Then she listened. Could it be the baying of hounds she heard? Her heart beat faster. She was not mistaken; she had heard the hounds. And now she heard the shouts of men. She began to sing again, but the Indian pressed his hand over her mouth, and tightening his hold with his other arm, started to run with her. She struggled desperately. He held her like a vise. She screamed for help, as she continued to struggle. "Courage!" came ringing back in response to her cry. She knew the voice. It was the voice of Kenneth Hastings. Again the Apache muttered in her ear: "N[=e]-sh[=e]-äd-nl[)e]h´." She realized that the men were gaining rapidly upon them, and struggled more violently to free herself. As the Apache ran, his breath came harder. It was no easy task to carry his struggling captive, and escape his pursuers. Still he kept up a remarkable speed.