Dick's heart leaped to his throat. Had a
thousand savages been rushing on him he would have flown to the rescue
of his favourite; but an unexpected obstacle came in the way. His
fiery little steed, excited by the headlong race and the howls of the
Indians, had taken the bit in his teeth and was now unmanageable. Dick
tore at the reins like a maniac, and in the height of his frenzy even
raised the butt of his rifle with the intent to strike the poor horse
to the earth, but his better nature prevailed. He checked the uplifted
hand, and with, a groan dropped the reins, and sank almost helplessly
forward on the saddle; for several of the Indians had left the main
body and were pursuing him alone, so that there would have been now no
chance of his reaching the place where Crusoe fell, even if he could
have turned his horse.
Spiritless, and utterly indifferent to what his fate might be, Dick
Varley rode along with his head drooping, and keeping his seat almost
mechanically, while the mettlesome little steed flew on over wave and
hollow.
Pages:
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210