found that they had, this time "caught a Tartar;" for, as they dashed on, sixty warriors, fully armed and splendidly mounted, came into view from beneath a hill where they were awaiting in ambush. There was but one course for the trappers to take and that was to run the gauntlet, which they did in gallant style, although twenty yards would have frequently measured the distance between them and the hostile savages. The bullets from the rifles of the Indians flew about their ears thick and fast, for a heavy fire was opened upon them, as they passed, and incessantly kept up until they were out of their reach. The trappers did not return a shot. It would not have been according to their custom. There is no one thing Simon-pure trappers consider to be a greater folly than firing their rifles on such an occasion as is here described. There is nothing they so much dread as being left on foot with an empty gun and no time to load, when perhaps a single shot might change defeat into victory; sure captivity into freedom, or a dead companion into a laughing, jolly and lovable help-mate, ready for setting a trap or to engage in the next bloody skirmish. This must inevitably happen if, after the rider has fired, among the score or so of passing bullets, one of them, perchance, took a peculiar fancy for a vital organ of his horse. The mortally wounded animal would make no account of dismounting his master and leaving him to the tender mercies of the refined savages. In every close and unequal contest, such as above detailed, they only think of the surest and speediest method of escape, leaving revenge to be obtained on some more fitting and favorable occasion. For some unaccountable reason the savages did not give chase.