Well, to return to the point, which was the chase of a horse in the abstract; from which we will rapidly diverge to the chase of Dick Varley’s horse in particular.  This noble charger, having been ridden by savages until all his old fire and blood and mettle were worked up to a red heat, no sooner discovered that he was pursued than he gave a snort of defiance, which he accompanied with a frantic shake of his mane and a fling of contempt in addition to a magnificent wave of his tail.  Then he thundered up the valley at a pace which would speedily have left Joe Blunt and Henri out of sight behind if—­ay! that’s the word, if!  What a word that if is! what a world of if’s we live in!  There never was anything that wouldn’t have been something else if something hadn’t intervened to prevent it!  Yes, we repeat Charlie would have left his two friends miles and miles behind in what is called “no time,” if he had not run straight into a gorge which was surrounded by inaccessible precipices, and out of which there was no exit except by the entrance, which was immediately barred by Henri, while Joe advanced to catch the run-away.

For two hours at least did Joe Blunt essay to catch Charlie, and during that space of time he utterly failed The horse seemed to have made up his mind for what is vulgarly termed “a lark.”

“It won’t do, Henri,” said Joe, advancing towards his companion, and wiping his forehead with the cuff of his leathern coat; “I can’t catch him.  The wind’s a’most blowed out o’ me body.”

“Dat am vexatiable,” replied Henri, in a tone of commiseration.  “S’pose I wos make try?”

“In that case I s’pose ye would fail.  But go ahead, an’ do what ye can.  I’ll hold yer horse.”

So Henri began by a rush and a flourish of legs and arms that nearly frightened the horse out of his wits.  For half-an-hour he went through all the complications of running and twisting of which he was capable, without success, when Joe Blunt suddenly uttered a stentorian yell that rooted him to the spot on which he stood.

To account for this, we must explain that in the heights of the Rocky Mountains vast accumulations of snow take place among the crevices and gorges during winter.  Such of these masses as form on steep slopes are loosened by occasional thaws, and are precipitated in the form of avalanches into the valleys below, carrying trees and stones along with them in their thundering descent.  In the gloomy gorge where Dick’s horse had taken refuge the precipices were so steep that many avalanches had occurred, as was evident from the mounds of heaped snow that lay at the foot of most of them.  Neither stones nor trees were carried down here, however, for the cliffs were nearly perpendicular, and the snow slipping over their edges had fallen on the grass below.  Such an avalanche was now about to take place, and it was this that caused Joe to utter his cry of alarm and warning.