Little did Dick think, when the flood of horses swept past him, that his own good steed was there, rejoicing in his recovered liberty.  But Crusoe knew it.  Ay, the wind had borne down the information to his acute nose before the living storm burst upon the camp; and when Charlie rushed past, with the long tough halter trailing at his heels, Crusoe sprang to his side, seized the end of the halter with his teeth, and galloped off along with him.

It was a long gallop and a tough one, but Crusoe held on, for it was a settled principle in his mind never to give in.  At first the check upon Charlie’s speed was imperceptible, but by degrees the weight of the gigantic dog began to tell, and after a time they fell a little to the rear; then by good fortune the troop passed through a mass of underwood, and the line getting entangled brought their mad career forcibly to a close; the mustangs passed on, and the two friends were left to keep each other company in the dark.

How long they would have remained thus is uncertain, for neither of them had sagacity enough to undo a complicated entanglement.  Fortunately, however, in his energetic tugs at the line, Crusoe’s sharp teeth partially severed it, and a sudden start on the part of Charlie caused it to part.  Before he could escape, Crusoe again seized the end of it, and led him slowly but steadily back to the Indian camp, never halting or turning aside until he had placed the line in Dick Varley’s hand.

“Hallo, pup! where have ye bin?  How did ye bring him here?” exclaimed Dick, as he gazed in amazement at his foam-covered horse.

Crusoe wagged his tail, as if to say, “Be thankful that you’ve got him, Dick, my boy, and don’t ask questions that you know I can’t answer.”

“He must ha’ broke loose and jined the stampede,” remarked Joe, coming out of the chief’s tent at the moment; “but tie him up, Dick, and come in, for we want to settle about startin’ to-morrow or nixt day.”

Having fastened Charlie to a stake, and ordered Crusoe to watch him, Dick re-entered the tent where the council had reassembled, and where Pee-eye-em—­having, in the recent struggle, split the blue surtout completely up to the collar, so that his backbone was visible throughout the greater part of its length—­was holding forth in eloquent strains on the subject of peace in general and peace with the Blackfeet, the ancient enemies of the Shirry-dikas, in particular.

CHAPTER XXIV.

Plans and prospects—­Dick becomes home-sick, and Henri metaphysical—­Indians attack the camp—­A blow-up.

On the following day the Indians gave themselves up to unlimited feasting, in consequence of the arrival of a large body of hunters with an immense supply of buffalo meat.  It was a regular day of rejoicing.  Upwards of six hundred buffaloes had been killed and as the supply of meat before their arrival had been ample, the camp was now overflowing with plenty.