saddle. He struck a precipitous slope and rolled down it, clutching at
twigs, which broke, and grass, until he felt a violent blow on his
head. After that he knew nothing.

It was broad daylight when consciousness returned, and he found himself
lying half-way down a steep declivity. At the foot of it tall reeds
and sedges indicated the presence of water, and he realized that he had
fallen into a ravine. There was a small tree near by, against which he
supposed he had struck his head; but somewhat to his astonishment he
could not see his horse. It had apparently escaped better than he had,
for he felt dizzy and shaky and averse to making an effort to get up,
though he did not think he had broken any bones.

After a while he fumbled for his pipe and found some difficulty in
lighting it, but he persevered, and lay quiet while he smoked it out.
The sunlight was creeping down the gully, it was getting pleasantly
warm, and George felt dull and lethargic. Some time had passed when he
heard the teamster's shout and saw the man scrambling down the side of
the ravine.

"Badly hurt?" he asked, on reaching George.

"No," said George; "I don't think it's serious; I feel half asleep and
stupid. Suppose that's because I hit my head."

The other looked at him searchingly. His eyes were heavy and his face
had lost its usual color.

"You want to get back to your homestead and lie quiet a while. I
didn't miss you until I'd got out of the bluff, and then the wagon was