"Keep them on the run!" gasped the man behind. "If one of us gets
thrown, the other fellow will hold right on!"

A few minutes later George's horse plunged with a crash through a break.

"We're off the trail!" his companion cried. "Guess it switches round a
sloo!"

They floundered through crackling brushwood until they struck the
track, and afterward rode furiously to make up the lost time, with the
sound of wheels leading them on. Then in the gap before them they saw
what seemed to be the back of a wagon which, to George's surprise,
suddenly disappeared. The next moment a figure carrying something
crossed the trail.

"To the right!" cried the teamster.

George did not think his companion had seen the man. He rode after him
into the brush, and saw the fellow hurrying through it with a load in
his arms. The man looked around. George could dimly make out his dark
face; and his figure was almost clear. He was an Indian and unusually
tall. Then he plunged into a screen of bushes, and George, riding
savagely, drove his horse at the obstacle.

He heard the twigs snap beneath him, a drooping branch struck him hard;
and then he gasped with horror. In front there opened up a deep black
rift in which appeared the tops of trees. Seeing it was too late to
pull up, he shook his feet clear of the stirrups. He felt the horse
plunge down, there was a shock, and he was flung violently from the