“Ah, boy!” he whispered, “I’m afeard you’ll find him a tough customer.”

“That’s just what I want,” replied Dick.  “He’s supple enough, but he wants muscle in the thigh.  We’ll make it a long heat.”

“Right, lad, ye’re right.”

Joe now proceeded to arrange the conditions of the race with the chiefs around him.  It was fixed that the distance to be run should be a mile, so that the race would be one of two miles, out and back.  Moreover, the competitors were to run without any clothes, except a belt and a small piece of cloth round the loins.  This to the Indians was nothing, for they seldom wore more in warm weather; but Dick would have preferred to keep on part of his dress.  The laws of the course, however, would not permit of this, so he stripped and stood forth, the beau-ideal of a well-formed, agile man.  He was greatly superior in size to his antagonist, and more muscular, the savage being slender and extremely lithe and springy.

“Ha!  I will run too,” shouted Henri, bouncing forward with clumsy energy, and throwing off his coat just as they were going to start.

The savages smiled at this unexpected burst, and made no objection, considering the thing in the light of a joke.

The signal was given, and away they went.  Oh! it would have done you good to have seen the way in which Henri manoeuvred his limbs on this celebrated occasion!  He went over the ground with huge elephantine bounds, runs, and jumps.  He could not have been said to have one style of running; he had a dozen styles, all of which came into play in the course of half as many minutes.  The other two ran like the wind; yet although Henri appeared to be going heavily over the ground, he kept up with them to the turning-point.  As for Dick, it became evident in the first few minutes that he could outstrip his antagonist with ease, and was hanging back a little all the time.  He shot ahead like an arrow when they came about half-way back, and it was clear that the real interest of the race was to lie in the competition between Henri and Tarwicadia.

Before they were two-thirds of the way back, Dick walked in to the winning-point, and turned to watch the others.  Henri’s wind was about gone, for he exerted himself with such violence that he wasted half his strength.  The Indian, on the contrary, was comparatively fresh, but he was not so fleet as his antagonist, whose tremendous strides carried him over the ground at an incredible pace.  On they came neck and neck, till close on the score that marked the winning-point.  Here the value of enthusiasm came out strongly in the case of Henri.  He felt that he could not gain an inch on Tarwicadia to save his life, but just as he came up he observed the anxious faces of his comrades and the half-sneering countenances of the savages.  His heart thumped against his ribs, every muscle thrilled with a gush of conflicting feelings, and he hurled himself over the score like a cannon shot, full six inches ahead of the little chief!