The impatient, eager haste with which the rein was unfastened, the seemingly impossibility of getting the loosely fastened knot untied, the little obstructions that constantly obtruded themselves--these cannot be described nor imagined. It would have been unnatural in the highest degree had Ned not found himself "nervous." He was ready to yield to despair more than once, and what were really seconds were as many minutes to him. The Indians could be heard moving through the undergrowth, their progress cautious as it always is when they have reason to fear that enemies are close at hand. It was this deliberation which gave Ned his only chance. The rein was unfastened at last, and, with a desperate effort he mounted the mustang, which came very near bounding from beneath him while in the act of springing upward, and, turning his head toward the southwest, the very direction he wished to follow, Chadmund struck his sides with his heels, gave a regular Indian shout and was off. The steed scarcely needed all this to incite him to his highest efforts. Stretching out his neck, he sped away like an arrow, while the young rider constantly urged him to still greater effort. But no urging was required. The fleet-footed courser was already going with the speed of the wind. Scarcely had he gotten under way, however, when the crack! crack! of rifles was heard, and the singing of bullets around his ears told the fugitive at whom they were aimed. He instantly threw himself forward upon the neck of the mustang, and shouted again, in a voice that must have been heard by the redskins themselves: "Go it, my horse! Don't let them catch us! We mustn't lose now!" One or two more shots were heard, and then all was quiet again. "We've got beyond their range," concluded the boy, "and there's no need of wasting their powder on us." Still he remained with his head bent on the neck of his animal, the latter upon a dead run, until they had gone a considerable distance further. Then believing all peril past, he drew him down somewhat, for the gait was more trying to him than to the steed himself, and it was simply prudent to husband his strength, when there was no necessity of putting it forth. For the first time since starting, Ned turned and surveyed the ground over which he had passed. The view was not a reassuring one by any means. Instead of seeing the Apaches standing in mute despair upon the margin of the grove, and staring in wonder at his flight, he saw instead the whole party mounted and in full pursuit. They were adopting what seemed to him a strange course. Instead of charging along in a body, they were separating and spreading out like a fan. "I wonder what it is for," said the fugitive to himself, as he urged his horse to a renewal of the arrowy speed he had shown at the beginning.