hunters who had come to see them start.

"Remember, Joe," said one, "if you don't come back in three months
we'll all come out in a band to seek you."

"If we don't come back in less than that time, what's left o' us won't
be worth seekin' for," said Joe, tightening the girth of his saddle.

"Put a bit in yer own mouth, Henri," cried another, as the Canadian
arranged his steed's bridle; "yell need it more than yer horse when ye
git 'mong the red reptiles."

"Vraiment, if mon mout' needs one bit, yours will need one padlock."

"Now, lads, mount!" cried Joe Blunt as he vaulted into the saddle.

Dick Varley sprang lightly on his horse, and Henri made a rush at his
steed and hurled his huge frame across its back with a violence that
ought to have brought it to the ground; but the tall, raw-boned,
broad-chested roan was accustomed to the eccentricities of its master,
and stood the shock bravely. Being appointed to lead the pack-horse,
Henri seized its halter. Then the three cavaliers shook their reins,
and, waving their hands to their comrades, they sprang into the woods
at full gallop, and laid their course for the "far west."

For some time they galloped side by side in silence, each occupied
with his own thoughts, Crusoe keeping close beside his master's horse.
The two elder hunters evidently ruminated on the object of their
mission and the prospects of success, for their countenances were
grave and their eyes cast on the ground. Dick Varley, too, thought