To add to the confusion at that moment, a cloud passed over the moon and threw the whole scene into deep obscurity.

Blind with terror, which was probably increased by the din of their own mad flight, the galloping troop came on, and with a sound like the continuous roar of thunder that for an instant drowned the yell of dog and man they burst upon the camp, trampling over packs and skins, and dried meat, etc., in their headlong speed, and overturning several of the smaller tents.

In another moment they swept out upon the plain beyond, and were soon lost in the darkness of the night, while the yelping of dogs, as they vainly pursued them, mingled and gradually died away with the distant thunder of their retreat.
This was a _stampede_, one of the most extraordinary scenes that can be witnessed in the western wilderness.
"Lend a hand, Henri," shouted Joe, who was struggling with a powerful horse.

"Wot's comed over yer brains, man?
This brute'll git off if you don't look sharp." Dick and Henri both answered to the summons, and they succeeded in throwing the struggling animal on its side and holding it down until its excitement was somewhat abated.

Pee-eye-em had also been successful in securing his favourite hunter: but nearly every other horse belonging to the camp had broken loose and joined the whirlwind gallop.