“I’ll go to the Injun camp,” said Joe to Walter Cameron, as the chiefs rose to depart.  “The season’s far enough advanced already; it’s time to be off; and if I’m to speak for the Redskins in the Blackfeet Council, I’d need to know what to say.”

“Please yourself, Master Blunt,” answered Cameron.  “I like your company and that of your friends, and if it suited you I would be glad to take you along with us to the coast of the Pacific; but your mission among the Indians is a good one, and I’ll help it on all I can.—­I suppose you will go also?” he added, turning to Dick Varley, who was still seated beside the council fire caressing Crusoe.

“Wherever Joe goes, I go,” answered Dick.

Crusoe’s tail, ears, and eyes demonstrated high approval of the sentiment involved in this speech.

“And your friend Henri?”

“He goes too,” answered Joe.  “It’s as well that the Redskins should see the three o’ us before we start for the east side o’ the mountains.—­Ho, Henri! come here, lad.”

Henri obeyed, and in a few seconds the three friends crossed the brook to the Indian camp, and were guided to the principal lodge by Pee-eye-em.  Here a great council was held, and the proposed attempt at negotiations for peace with their ancient enemies fully discussed.  While they were thus engaged, and just as Pee-eye-em had, in the energy of an enthusiastic peroration, burst the blue surtout almost up to the collar, a distant rushing sound was heard, which caused every man to spring to his feet, run out of the tent, and seize his weapons.

“What can it be, Joe?” whispered Dick as they stood at the tent door leaning on their rifles, and listening intently.

“Dun’no’,” answered Joe shortly.

Most of the numerous fires of the camp had gone out, but the bright moon revealed the dusky forms of thousands of Indians, whom the unwonted sound had startled, moving rapidly about.

The mystery was soon explained.  The Indian camp was pitched on an open plain of several miles in extent, which took a sudden bend half-a-mile distant, where a spur of the mountains shut out the farther end of the valley from view.  From beyond this point the dull rumbling sound proceeded.  Suddenly there was a roar as if a mighty cataract had been let loose upon the scene.  At the same moment a countless herd of wild horses came thundering round the base of the mountain and swept over the plain straight towards the Indian camp.

“A stampede!” cried Joe, springing to the assistance of Pee-eye-em, whose favourite horses were picketed near the tent.

On they came like a living torrent, and the thunder of a thousand hoofs was soon mingled with the howling of hundreds of dogs in the camp, and the yelling of Indians, as they vainly endeavoured to restrain the rising excitement of their steeds.  Henri and Dick stood rooted to the ground, gazing in silent wonder at the fierce and uncontrollable gallop of the thousands of panic-stricken horses that bore down upon the camp with the tumultuous violence of a mighty cataract.