CHAPTER XXV.
_Dangers of the prairie_--_Our travellers attacked by Indians, and delivered in a remarkable manner_.
There are periods in the life of almost all men A when misfortunes seem to crowd upon them in rapid succession, when they escape from one danger only to encounter another, and when, to use a well-known expression, they succeed in leaping out of the frying-pan at the expense of plunging into the fire.
So was it with our three friends upon this occasion.

They were scarcely rid of the Blackfeet, who found them too watchful to be caught napping, when, about daybreak one morning, they encountered a roving band of Camanchee Indians, who wore such a warlike aspect that Joe deemed it prudent to avoid them if possible.
"They don't see us yit, I guess," said Joe, as he and his companions drove the horses into a hollow between the grassy waves of the prairie, "an' if we only can escape their sharp eyes till we're in yonder clump o' willows, we're safe enough." "But why don't you ride up to them, Joe," inquired Dick, "and make peace between them and the Pale-faces, as you ha' done with other bands ?" "Because it's o' no use to risk our scalps for the chance o' makin' peace wi' a rovin' war party.

Keep yer head down, Henri! If they git only a sight o' the top o' yer cap, they'll be down on us like a breeze o' wind." "Ha! let dem come!" said Henri.
"They'll come without askin' yer leave," remarked Joe, dryly.
Notwithstanding his defiant expression, Henri had sufficient prudence to induce him to bend his head and shoulders, and in a few minutes they reached the shelter of the willows unseen by the savages.

At least so thought Henri, Joe was not quite sure about it, and Dick hoped for the best.
In the course of half-an-hour the last of the Camanchees was seen to hover for a second on the horizon, like a speck of black against the sky, and then to disappear.
Immediately the three hunters vaulted on their steeds and resumed their journey; but before that evening closed they had sad evidence of the savage nature of the band from which they had escaped.

On passing the brow of a slight eminence, Dick, who rode first, observed that Crusoe stopped and snuffed the breeze in an anxious, inquiring manner.
"What is't, pup ?" said Dick, drawing up, for he knew that his faithful dog never gave a false alarm.
Crusoe replied by a short, uncertain bark, and then bounding forward, disappeared behind a little wooded knoll.