He was very knowing, too, and it was not many days before Oscar found it out. If it had not been for that same mule this expedition would have ended in failure, in spite of the success that had thus far attended them. He did something that raised him to a high place in the boy’s estimation; and anybody who struck that mule a blow after that, in his presence, would have been very likely to get himself into trouble. CHAPTER XXVIII. “OLD EPHRAIM.” Oscar and his guide enjoyed some splendid runs after they gave up still-hunting and took to the saddle; and Big Thompson, who had been surprised at the skill the boy exhibited in stalking, and the success that attended him, was perfectly astonished when he saw him ride. His seat was easy and graceful; and, although he seemed to make no effort to keep it, he was never unhorsed. In the ardor of the chase he seemed to forget everything except the game before him. With his bridle flying loose in the wind, and his hands grasping his rifle, which he carried ready for a shot, he would press close upon the flanks of a flying herd, single out the best buck in it, and follow him at headlong speed through the thickest woods, over the roughest ground, and down declivities that in his sober moments he would have hesitated to descend at a walk; and when at last the elk’s trot was broken and his spirit began to flag, the loud report of the breech loader would announce that that run was over. It was surprising how soon he and the pony came to have unlimited confidence in each other. The little horse entered into the sport with as much eagerness as Oscar did; and he would face every thicket and take every leap that came in his way, all the while straining every nerve to bring his rider to close quarters with the animal he had selected. And it was surprising, too, how quickly he learned which animal it was that Oscar wanted to bring to bay. After he had followed him through a few of his windings, guided by his rider’s hand, he would take up the pursuit on his own responsibility, and stick close to that particular elk, paying no attention to the other members of the herd. During these runs Thompson always kept a little in the boy’s rear, advising and encouraging him, except when that big elk was started, and then he would take the lead, if he could, and try his best to secure him; but this elk seemed to bear a charmed life. A good many bullets had been sent after him, and sometimes the hunters were positive that he had been hard hit; but the next time they jumped him—and they saw him almost every time they went to the upper end of the valley—he would throw his heavy antlers back on his shoulders, stick his nose straight out before him, and trot off as rapidly as ever. “I am afraid we’ll have to give it up,” said Oscar one day, as they were slowly working their way homeward after another unsuccessful attempt to bag the big elk.