of the butte upon which he sat, a large drove of horses grazing
peacefully and quietly. Looking closer, he noticed at a little
distance from the main drove, a horse with a saddle on his back.
This was the one that had neighed, as the drove drifted further
away from him. He was tied by a long lariat to a large sage bush.

Where could the rider be, he said to himself. As if in answer to
his question, there appeared not more than twenty paces from him a
middle aged man coming up through a deep ravine. The man was
evidently in search of some kind of game, as he held his gun in
readiness for instant use, and kept his eyes directed at every
crevice and clump of bush. So intent was he on locating the game
he was trailing, that he never noticed the young man who sat like
a statue not twenty paces away. Slowly and cautiously the man
approached, and when he had advanced to within a few paces of the
young man he stopped and turning around, stood looking down into
the valley. This was the only chance that our brave young friend
had. Being unarmed, he would stand no show if the enemy ever got
a glimpse of him. Slowly and noiselessly he drew his hunting knife
(which his father had given him on his departure from home) and
holding it securely in his right hand, gathered himself and gave a
leap which landed him upon the unsuspecting enemy's shoulders. The
force with which he landed on the enemy caused him (the enemy) to
lose his hold on his gun, and it went rattling down into the chasm,
forty feet below.

Down they came together, the young man on top. No sooner had they
struck the ground than the enemy had out his knife, and then
commenced a hand to hand duel. The enemy, having more experience,
was getting the best of our young friend. Already our young friend