a bow, and to feel an arrow quivering at his heart.  He did not even dare to look round, lest he should lose an inch of that distance on which his life depended.  He had run nearly half way across the plain when the sound of pursuit grew somewhat fainter, and he ventured to turn his head.  The main body of his pursuers were a considerable distance behind; several of the fastest runners were scattered in the advance; while a swift-footed warrior, armed with a spear, was not more than a hundred yards behind him.

Inspired with new hope, Colter redoubled his exertions, but strained himself to such a degree, that the blood gushed from his mouth and nostrils, and streamed down his breast.  He arrived within a mile of the river.  The sound of footsteps gathered upon him.  A glance behind showed his pursuer within twenty yards, and preparing to launch his spear.  Stopping short he turned round and spread out his arms.  The savage, confounded by this sudden action, attempted to stop and hurl his spear, but fell in the very act.  His spear stuck in the ground, and the shaft broke in his hand.  Colter plucked up the pointed part, pinned the savage to the earth, and continued his flight.  The Indians, as they arrived at their slaughtered companion, stopped to howl over him.  Colter made the most of this precious delay, gained the skirt of cotton-wood bordering the river, dashed through it, and plunged into the stream.  He swam to a neighboring island, against the upper end of which the driftwood had lodged in such quantities as to form a natural raft; under this he dived, and swam below water until he succeeded in getting a breathing place between the floating trunks of trees, whose branches and bushes formed a covert several feet above the level of the water.  He had scarcely drawn breath after all his toils, when he heard his pursuers on the river bank, whooping and yelling like so many fiends.  They plunged in the river, and swam to the raft.  The heart of Colter almost died within him as he saw them, through the chinks of his concealment, passing and repassing, and seeking for him in all directions.  They at length gave up the search, and he began to rejoice in his escape, when the idea presented itself that they might set the raft on fire.  Here was a new source of horrible apprehension, in which he remained until nightfall.  Fortunately the idea did not suggest itself to the Indians.  As soon as it was dark, finding by the silence around that his pursuers had departed, Colter dived again and came up beyond the raft.  He then swam silently down the river for a considerable distance, when he landed, and kept on all night, to get as far as possible from this dangerous neighborhood.