In the present volume another series of Indian adventures is concluded,and the further career of the hero is described in the series beginningwith the "Tiger-slayer." It must be understood, however, that thestories are not arbitrarily connected—each is complete in itself; butthose who have read one volume will, I hope, be sufficiently interestedin the hero to desire to know more of his career. The following,therefore, is the order in which the volumes should be read:—
1. TRAIL HUNTER.
2. PIRATES OF THE PRAIRIES.
3. THE TRAPPER'S DAUGHTER.
4. TIGER SLAYER.
6. GOLD SEEKERS.
7. INDIAN CHIEF.
In all probability, M. Aimard will favour us with other volumes; but, inthe mean time, the above can be read collectively or separately, withequal interest.
LASCELLES WRAXALL
About three in the afternoon, a horseman, dressed in the Mexicancostume, was galloping along the banks of a stream, an affluent of theGila, whose capricious windings compelled him to make countless detours.This man, while constantly keeping his hand on his weapons, and watchingfor every event, urged his horse on by shouts and spur, as if anxious toreach his journey's end.
The wind blew fiercely, the heat was oppressive, the grasshoppersuttered their discordant cries under the herbage that sheltered them;the birds slowly described wide circles in the air, uttering shrillnotes at intervals: coppery clouds were incessantly passing athwart thesun, whose pale, sickly beams possessed no strength; in short, allpresaged a terrible storm.
The traveller seemed to notice nought of this; bowed over his horse'sneck, with his eyes fixed ahead, he increased his speed, withoutnoticing the heavy drops of rain that already fell, and the hoarserolling of distant thunder which began to be heard.
Still this man, had he wished it, could easily have sheltered himselfunder the thick shade of the aged trees in the virgin forest which hehad been skirting for more than an hour, and thus let the heaviest partof the storm pass; but a weightier interest, doubtless, urged him on,for, while increasing his speed, he did not think of drawing his zarapéover his shoulders to protect him from the rain, but contented himself,as each gust of wind howled past him, with drawing his hat a littletighter on his head, while repeating to his horse, in a sharp tone:
"Forward! Forward!"
In the meanwhile, the stream, whose banks the traveller was following,grew gradually narrower, and at a certain spot the bank was completelyobstructed by an undergrowth of shrubs and interlaced creepers, whichcompletely prevented any approach. On reaching this point the travellerstopped; he dismounted, carefully inspected the vicinity, took his horseby the bridle, and led it into a copse, where he concealed it; attachingit with his lasso to the trunk of a large tree, after removing thebozal to let it browse at liberty.
"Rest here, Negro," he said, as he softly patted it; "do not neigh,