had  made  us  the  last  of  the  crowd.    I  don't  blame
the  others  for  going.     There  was  no  time  to  lose ;
and,  doubtless,  these  others  had  n't  seen  our  fix,
any  way.     But,  of  course,  we  three  could  n't  con-
scientiously leave  Escott.      Luckily,  tbough,  we
had  n't  to  wait  any  longer  to  think  how  to  save
him,  for  as  we  retreated  into  the  timber  we  found
by  chance  and  without  serious  delay  a  poor  beast
tied  to  a  tree,  and  frantically  rearing  and  plung-
ing.    That  was  Escott's  chance.    He  got  on  after
no  little  trouble,  and  we  all  escaped;  Escott  just  a
trifle  the  last  of  all,  I  admit,  but  that  was  n't  our
fault.     He  would  have  it  so.     Just  as  we  were
getting  out  of   the  timber,  however,  in  retreat,
there  came  a  volley  from  the  Indians,  and  poor
Molesworth  fell,  all  riddled  with  bullets.     I  got  a
scratch  on  my  forehead  as  I  turned  to  look ;  you
can  see  the  scar  now,  just  under  the  edge  of  the
hair  here,  and  a  little  out  on  the  brow.     Escott
himself  was  rather  badly  wounded  in  the  arm,
and  Bolton,  too,  was  grazed.     We  stopped  yet  an
instant,  enough  to  see  that  poor  Molesworth  was
twice  shot  through  the  head,  as  well  as  in  the
body,  and  was  not  even  moving.    Then  we  dashed
on.
"  That  was  an  awful  evening.  The  coming  on'
of  darkness  soon  saved  us  from  further  pursuit.
