Turning quickly, Walter ran toward the horse, seized him by the bridle before he had time to wheel around, and in another second was in the saddle. A short riding-whip hung from the pommel, and with this the fugitive struck the animal sharply as he forced him directly into the underbrush toward the south. Fortunately, Walter was well acquainted with this section of the country, having been over it many times with his father, and knew exactly which direction to take in order to gain that portion of the forest where it would be possible to ride at a reasonably rapid gait before venturing on the path again. His escape, however, was not to be as simple as at first seemed. Before he was twenty yards from the starting point a loud cry in the rear told that his departure had been discovered, and this was followed almost immediately by the report of a pistol. "If you don't do anything worse than shoot, I shan't come to much grief," he said, with a laugh. "Master Haines is not as wise a man as I have supposed him to be if he thinks it is possible to bring his game down by firing at random, for he surely can't see me." Walter failed to realize that his movements could be plainly heard, even though he was hidden from view by the foliage, and soon the sounds of pursuit reached his ear. "There is no need of the Indian while my horse is floundering among the bushes," he muttered to himself. "Haines has mounted the other animal,--was probably on his back before I started, and counts on riding me down. He can do it, too!" Walter exclaimed, in a louder tone. "Once he is where I can serve as a target, the chase will be brought to a speedy end." Now he understood that if he hoped to escape he must return to the path, where the horse would have an Opportunity to show his speed, and he wheeled him suddenly around, regardless of the risk of coming directly upon Haines. Fortunately his pursuer was not as near as he had fancied, and soon he was riding at the best possible pace over the narrow path. He had emerged beyond the spot where the half-breed was stationed, and before him was nothing to jeopardize safety; it only remained to distance the white man. Two miles were traversed in a remarkably short space of time, and then he was on that portion of the road which ran in a straight line through a sort of clearing. That it was possible for his pursuer to see him during a certain time was shown, as a bullet whistled within an inch of the fugitive's head. "That makes two shots, my friend," he said, as if to keep up his courage. "Unless I am mistaken, you had only a couple of pistols, and by the time they are reloaded I shall be screened by the bushes again." That his calculations were not correct was shown as a second ball passed uncomfortably close, and a third tore through his coat-sleeve, causing the warm blood to gush down over his hand. "Only a scratch, nothing more!" he shouted, and then he was among the friendly shelter of the trees again.