His stratagem gained him some vantage ground.

He was led by the chief into the prairie, about four hundred yards from the main body of savages, and then turned loose to save himself if he could.

A tremendous yell let him know that the whole pack of bloodhounds were off in full cry.

Colter flew rather than ran; he was astonished at his own speed; but he had six miles of prairie to traverse before he should reach the Jefferson Fork of the Missouri; how could he hope to hold out such a distance with the fearful odds of several hundred to one against him! The plain, too, abounded with the prickly pear, which wounded his naked feet.

Still he fled on, dreading each moment to hear the twang of a bow, and to feel an arrow quivering at his heart.