This great bull stung in the flank, but stung only, uttered a roar of pain, and, sharp horns down, charged directly upon the young Spaniard.  He was a terrifying sight as he tore up the grass of the prairie, his red eyes flaming.  The Spaniard, appalled, dropped his musket and ran for the woods, the great beast thundering at his heels, and his hot breath, in fancy at least, upon his back.  Both Paul and Henry at that instant recognized him.  It was one of the unfortunate sentinels.  Luiz.

“I’ll save him,” said Henry, “but keep back, Paul!  Don’t let him see you!”

The Spaniard was about to reach the edge of the wood, but another jump would bring the raging buffalo upon him.  His foot caught among some roots and with a despairing cry he fell upon his face.  But as he struck the ground there was a sharp, lashing report, far different from the dull boom of a musket, and the great animal suddenly ploughed forward on his head.  So violent was his plunge, as he was stricken in mid-charge, that his neck was broken, and, after his crashing fall, he lay quite still.

The young Spaniard, Luiz, sprang to his feet unharmed, and he was confronted by a figure that startled him, the figure of a very tall and powerful youth, clad wholly in deerskin, leaning on a long, slender barreled Kentucky rifle, and looking at him contemplatively.  So sudden was his appearance and so fixed his gaze that Luiz, although joyful over his escape from death, was startled and awed.  His adventure of a few nights before when he was seized, bound, and gagged by unseen but powerful hands had left him shaken, and now his brain was whirling.

The young Spaniard stared at the figure, which neither moved nor spoke, but which returned his gaze with a fixed look.  Was it a spirit, or was it really one of the Americans?  But whatever it was, it had, beyond a doubt, saved his life, and deep down in his Spanish heart he was not ungrateful.

“Thanks, Senor!” he stammered.  “Your shot—­it came just in time!”

The apparition spoke, but only a few words.

“We are your friends, not your enemies, don’t forget,” it said, and the startled Luiz rubbed his eyes.  The figure of the great youth was gone.  It had been there and then it was not there, and only some bushes, waving slightly, told where it had been.  He regained his musket, and, still bewildered, rejoined his comrades to tell them a story that they did not more than half believe.

Henry, laughing a little, returned to Paul.  It had been a simple trick.  He had merely darted away among the bushes, while Luiz was still in a daze.

“I did not want to see the man killed,” he said, “and maybe we have sowed a good seed, that will grow up in time, and produce something.”

“It may be,” added Paul.

They went a little farther into the forest and watched the Spaniards finish their hunt, gather up as much of their game as they could carry, and depart.  When they were well out of sight, Henry and Paul went to a slain cow that the soldiers had neglected, cut out some of the choicest portions, and took the way to their own camp.