would be able to distance his pursuers, and escape. Away he darted like
lightning, their horrible yell still ringing in his ears; he spurred his
horse, already covered with foam, entered the plain, and, to his horror
and amazement, found that between him and the valley there was a
horrible chasm, twenty-five feet in breadth and two hundred feet in
depth, with acute angles of rocks, as numerous as the thorns upon a
prickly pear. What could he do? His tired horse refused to take the
leap, and he could plainly hear the voice of the Indians encouraging
each other in the pursuit.

Along the edge of the precipice there lay a long hollow log, which had
been probably dragged there with the intention of making a bridge across
the chasm. Overton dismounted, led his horse to the very brink, and
pricked him with his knife the noble animal leaped, but his strength was
too far gone for him to clear it; his breast struck the other edge, and
he fell from crag to crag into the abyss below. This over, the fugitive
crawled to the log, and concealed himself under it, hoping that he would
yet escape. He was mistaken, for he had been seen; at that moment, the
savages emerged from the wood, and a few minutes more brought them
around the log. Now certain of their prey, they wished to make him
suffer a long moral agony, and they feigned not to know where he was.

"He has leaped over," said one; "it was the full jump of a panther.
Shall we return, or encamp here?"

The Indians agreed to repose for a short time; and then began a
conversation. One protested, if he could ever get Overton, he would make
him eat his own bowels. Another spoke of red-hot irons and of creeping
flesh. No torture was left unsaid, and horrible must have been the
position of the wretched Overton.