sight of us, we should have had guards over the cattle all night long; well, sir, down he sot in ambush, till all were quiet; and then he stole back, and turning my own horse among the others, as if to say, ’Thar’s the beast that I borrowed,’—­it war a wonder the brute war so honest!—­picked the best of the gathering, your blooded brown horse, sir! and all the while, I war sleeping like a brute, and leaving the guest in my own house to be robbed by Captain Ralph Stackpole, the villian!”

“If it be possible to follow the rascal,” said Roland, giving way to wrath himself, “I must do so, and without a moment’s delay.  I would to heaven I had known this earlier.”

“Whar war the use,” said Bruce; “whar was the use of disturbing a tired man in his nap, and he a guest of mine too?”

“The advantage would have been,” said Roland, a little testily, “that the pursuit could have been instantly begun.”

“And war it not?” said the colonel.  “Thar war not two minutes lost after the horse war missing, afore my son Tom and a dozen more of the best woodsmen war mounted on the fleetest horses in the settlement, and galloping after, right on the brute’s trail.”

“Thanks, my friend,” said Roland, with a cordial grasp of the hand.  “The horse will be recovered?”

“Thar’s no denying it,” said Bruce, “if a fresh leg can outrun a weary one; and besides, the brute war not content with the best horse, but he must have the second best too, that’s Major Smalleye’s two-y’ar-old pony.  He has an eye for a horse, the etarnal skirmudgeon! but the pony will be the death of him; for he’s skeary, and will keep Ralph slow in the path.  No, sir; we’ll have your brown horse before you can say Jack Robinson.  But the intolerability of the thing, sir, is that Ralph Stackpole should steal my guest’s horse, sir!  But it’s the end of his thieving, the brute, or thar’s no snakes!  I told him Lynch war out, the brute, and I told the boys to take car’ I war not found lying; and I reckon they won’t forget me!  I like the crittur, thar’s no denying, for he’s a screamer among the Injuns; but thar’s no standing a horse-thief!  No, sir, thar’s no standing a horse-thief!”

The only consequence of this accident which was apprehended, was that the march of the exiles must be delayed until the soldier’s horse was recovered, or Roland himself left behind until the animal was brought in; unless, indeed, he chose to accept another freely offered him by his gallant host, and trust to having his own charger restored on some future occasion.  He was himself unwilling that the progress of more than a hundred human beings towards the long sighed for land of promise should be delayed a moment on his account; and for this reason he exhorted his nominal superior to hasten the preparations for departure, without thinking of him.  His first resolution in relation to his own course, was to proceed with the company, leaving his horse to be sent after him,