crusoe's return, and his private adventures among the indians--dickat a very low ebb--crusoe saves him.

the means by which crusoe managed to escapefrom his two-legged captors, and rejoin his master,require separate and special notice.

in the struggle with the fallen horse and indian,which dick had seen begun but not concluded, he wasalmost crushed to death; and the instant the indiangained his feet, he sent an arrow at his head withsavage violence. crusoe, however, had been so wellused to dodging the blunt-headed arrows that werewont to be shot at him by the boys of the mustangvalley, that he was quite prepared, and eluded theshaft by an active bound. moreover, he uttered one ofhis own peculiar roars, flew at the indian's throat, anddragged him down. at the same moment the otherindians came up, and one of them turned aside to therescue. this man happened to have an old gun, ofthe cheap sort at that time exchanged for peltries bythe fur-traders. with the butt of this he struckcrusoe a blow on the head that sent him sprawling onthe grass.

the rest of the savages, as we have seen, continuedin pursuit of dick until he leaped into the river; thenthey returned, took the saddle and bridle off his deadhorse, and rejoined their comrades. here they held acourt-martial on crusoe, who was now bound foot andmuzzle with cords. some were for killing him; others,who admired his noble appearance, immense size, andcourage, thought it would be well to carry him to theirvillage and keep him. there was a pretty violent disputeon the subject, but at length it was agreed thatthey should spare his life in the meantime, and perhapshave a dog-dance round him when they got to theirwigwams.

this dance, of which crusoe was to be the chiefthough passive performer, is peculiar to some of thetribes east of the rocky mountains, and consists inkilling a dog and cutting out its liver, which is afterwardssliced into shreds or strings and hung on a poleabout the height of a man's head. a band of warriorsthen come and dance wildly round this pole, and eachone in succession goes up to the raw liver and bites apiece off it, without, however, putting his hands nearit. such is the dog-dance, and to such was poor crusoedestined by his fierce captors, especially by the onewhose throat still bore very evident marks of his teeth.

but crusoe was much too clever a dog to be disposedof in so disgusting a manner. he had privately resolvedin his own mind that he would escape; but thehopelessness of his ever carrying that resolution intoeffect would have been apparent to any one who couldhave seen the way in which his muzzle was secured,and his four paws were tied together in a bunch, ashe hung suspended across the saddle of one of thesavages!

this particular party of indians who had followeddick varley determined not to wait for the return oftheir comrades who were in pursuit of the other twohunters, but to go straight home, so for several daysthey galloped away over the prairie. at nights, whenthey encamped, crusoe was thrown on the ground likea piece of old lumber, and left to lie there with a merescrap of food till morning, when he was again thrownacross the horse of his captor and carried on. whenthe village was reached, he was thrown again on theground, and would certainly have been torn to pieces infive minutes by the indian curs which came howlinground him, had not an old woman come to the rescueand driven them away. with the help of her grand-son--alittle naked creature, just able to walk, or ratherto stagger--she dragged him to her tent, and, undoingthe line that fastened his mouth, offered him a bone.

although lying in a position that was unfavourablefor eating purposes, crusoe opened his jaws and took it.

an awful crash was followed by two crunches--and itwas gone! and crusoe looked up in the old squaw'sface with a look that said plainly, "another of the same,please, and as quick as possible." the old woman gavehim another, and then a lump of meat, which latterwent down with a gulp; but he coughed after it! andit was well he didn't choke. after this the squaw lefthim, and crusoe spent the remainder of that nightgnawing the cords that bound him. so diligent washe that he was free before morning and walked deliberatelyout of the tent. then he shook himself, andwith a yell that one might have fancied was intendedfor defiance he bounded joyfully away, and was soonout of sight.

to a dog with a good appetite which had been on shortallowance for several days, the mouthful given to him bythe old squaw was a mere nothing. all that day hekept bounding over the plain from bluff to bluff insearch of something to eat, but found nothing untildusk, when he pounced suddenly and most unexpectedlyon a prairie-hen fast asleep. in one moment its lifewas gone. in less than a minute its body was gonetoo--feathers and bones and all--down crusoe's ravenousthroat.

on the identical spot crusoe lay down and slept likea top for four hours. at the end of that time hejumped up, bolted a scrap of skin that somehow hadbeen overlooked at supper, and flew straight over theprairie to the spot where he had had the scuffle withthe indian. he came to the edge of the river, tookprecisely the same leap that his master had done beforehim, and came out on the other side a good deal higherup than dick had done, for the dog had no savages tododge, and was, as we have said before, a powerfulswimmer.

it cost him a good deal of running about to find thetrail, and it was nearly dark before he resumed hisjourney; then, putting his keen nose to the ground, heran step by step over dick's track, and at last foundhim, as we have shown, on the banks of the salt creek.

it is quite impossible to describe the intense joywhich filled dick's heart on again beholding his favourite.

only those who have lost and found such an onecan know it. dick seized him round the neck andhugged him as well as he could, poor fellow! in hisfeeble arms; then he wept, then he laughed, and thenhe fainted.

this was a consummation that took crusoe quiteaback. never having seen his master in such a statebefore he seemed to think at first that he was playingsome trick, for he bounded round him, and barked, andwagged his tail. but as dick lay quite still andmotionless, he went forward with a look of alarm;snuffed him once or twice, and whined piteously; thenhe raised his nose in the air and uttered a long melancholywail.

the cry seemed to revive dick, for he moved, andwith some difficulty sat up, to the dog's evident relief.

there is no doubt whatever that crusoe learned anerroneous lesson that day, and was firmly convincedthenceforth that the best cure for a fainting fit is amelancholy yell. so easy is it for the wisest of dogsas well as men to fall into gross error!

"crusoe," said dick, in a feeble voice, "dear goodpup, come here." he crawled, as he spoke, down tothe water's edge, where there was a level patch of drysand.

"dig," said dick, pointing to the sand.

crusoe looked at him in surprise, as well he might,for he had never heard the word "dig" in all his lifebefore.

dick pondered a minute then a thought struck him.

he turned up a little of the sand with his fingers, and,pointing to the hole, cried, "seek him out, pup!"ha! crusoe understood that. many and many atime had he unhoused rabbits, and squirrels, and othercreatures at that word of command; so, without a moment'sdelay, he commenced to dig down into the sand,every now and then stopping for a moment and shovingin his nose, and snuffing interrogatively, as if he fullyexpected to find a buffalo at the bottom of it. then hewould resume again, one paw after another so fast thatyou could scarce see them going--"hand over hand," assailors would have called it--while the sand flew outbetween his hind legs in a continuous shower. whenthe sand accumulated so much behind him as to impedehis motions he scraped it out of his way, and set towork again with tenfold earnestness. after a goodwhile he paused and looked up at dick with an"it-won't-do,-i-fear,-there's-nothing-here" expression on hisface.

"seek him out, pup!" repeated dick.

"oh! very good," mutely answered the dog, and wentat it again, tooth and nail, harder than ever.

in the course of a quarter of an hour there was adeep yawning hole in the sand, into which dick peeredwith intense anxiety. the bottom appeared slightlydamp. hope now reanimated dick varley, and byvarious devices he succeeded in getting the dog to scrapeaway a sort of tunnel from the hole, into which hemight roll himself and put down his lips to drink whenthe water should rise high enough. impatiently andanxiously he lay watching the moisture slowly accumulatein the bottom of the hole, drop by drop, and whilehe gazed he fell into a troubled, restless slumber, anddreamed that crusoe's return was a dream, and that hewas alone again, perishing for want of water.

when he awakened the hole was half full of clearwater, and crusoe was lapping it greedily.

"back, pup!" he shouted, as he crept down to thehole and put his trembling lips to the water. it wasbrackish, but drinkable, and as dick drank deeply ofit he esteemed it at that moment better than nectar.

here he lay for half-an-hour, alternately drinking andgazing in surprise at his own emaciated visage as reflectedin the pool.

the same afternoon crusoe, in a private hunting excursionof his own, discovered and caught a prairie-hen,which he quietly proceeded to devour on the spot, whendick, who saw what had occurred, whistled to him.

obedience was engrained in every fibre of crusoe'smental and corporeal being. he did not merely answerat once to the call--he sprang to it, leaving the prairie-henuntasted.

"fetch it, pup," cried dick eagerly as the dog cameup.

in a few moments the hen was at his feet. dick'scircumstances could not brook the delay of cookery; hegashed the bird with his knife and drank the blood, andthen gave the flesh to the dog, while he crept to thepool again for another draught. ah! think not, reader,that although we have treated this subject in a slightvein of pleasantry, because it ended well, that thereforeour tale is pure fiction. not only are indians glad tosatisfy the urgent cravings of hunger with raw flesh,but many civilized men and delicately nurtured havedone the same--ay, and doubtless will do the sameagain, as long as enterprising and fearless men shall goforth to dare the dangers of flood and field in the wildplaces of our wonderful world!

crusoe had finished his share of the feast before dickreturned from the pool. then master and dog lay downtogether side by side and fell into a long, deep, peacefulslumber.