CHAPTER II.

THE KNIGHT AND THE “LADIE FAIR.”

A panther and its prey!

A panther and its foe!

Quickly raising his rifle the young man, with nerves as steady as steel and lips compressed with a fierce courage, took a quick aim and the hammer fell. Then a sharp, whip-like crack, and, with a scream that seemed half-human, the panther gave a leap from the tree, straight toward the girl, but, impelled by agony and a baffled purpose, the leap sent him several feet past the crouching figure of the maid.

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Chauncy had expected this, and before the animal could turn he was upon it, knife in hand.

A few stabs sufficed to let out the little life that was in the panther, and then Chauncy arose to his feet.

Wiping his bloody knife upon the body of the slain creature, he put that weapon back into his belt.

Then for the first time he turned his eyes upon the maiden he had saved. A cry of surprise and admiration came from his lips as his eyes fell upon her. She was now upon her feet. Large, flashing black eyes, a pearl-like forehead, chin and nose, an exquisitely molded mouth, all framed with silky black hair which reached far below her waist!

Such was the picture before the young man.

The wild look was still in her eyes as she turned them upon her rescuer.

“I hope you have not received any hurt,” said he, advancing.

“No, sir; thanks to your timely arrival I have escaped from a fearful death. Oh, sir, you must excuse me if I do not thank you sufficiently. What I have gone through has unnerved me,” said the fair girl, in a voice which to Chauncy seemed the sweetest he had ever heard in all his life.

“Any one would have done the same,” he said.

This seems to be the regular programme on such occasions, and Chauncy followed the general rule, most probably because he knew nothing else that would be so appropriate.

“I beg your pardon, sir, but any one would not have done what you have,” replied the other.

“Then he would have been nothing but a brute. I had hardly time to aim and fire, but I am sure that had I seen your face I would never have shot the panther,” exclaimed Chauncy.

“And why not?” questioned the beautiful maiden.

“Because I could not have taken my eyes off of it! You must pardon me if I seem rude, but the truth is, I am surprised at seeing a woman out here, and a young and beautiful one at that.”

“It does not matter, sir. If you are surprised at seeing me here I must confess that I am equally surprised at your sudden appearance. I had no idea a human being, except it
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be Comanches, was within twenty miles of this spot, and they are as bad as the panther. You must know, then, that I was very much astonished when you fired your gun.”

Chauncy did not have to remain long in suspense, for she told her story in a very few words.

Her name was Donna Iola, and she was the daughter of an American who had married a Mexican. She had been out riding and had been captured by a band of Comanches, under the chief Red Buffalo. They had taken her north to their village, and from thence, in the night, she managed to escape on one of the mustangs.

It was the second night before. Upon reaching the grove of trees she had entered and tied her horse, while she searched around for berries or something to eat. It was then that the panther had come upon her.

Knowing that she must be hungry, the young hunter left her for awhile, but returned ere long with a brace of birds which with a true hunter’s skill he prepared for the spit. Then a fire was kindled, and in due time the savory repast was ready.

They were not long in dispatching this, and then, after a good drink of water from the cool spring, the Donna declared herself ready for her ride homeward.

Of course Chauncy had resolved to accompany her to the hacienda of her father, and the two started off, going in a southerly direction.

As they rode along, Chauncy noticed that the Donna’s horse seemed quite tired, and he decided to stop in the next clump of trees they came to.

It was nearly three hours before they reached this, and then they were amply repaid for their trouble, for in the cool, shady grove was a spring of water.

The two horses were tied to trees, and then the two young people wandered about among the trees, talking and laughing.

Had the hunter been an old hand at Indian-fighting he would never have idled the precious time away in this manner.

That the Comanches would follow up the Donna’s trail was a sure thing, and delay was dangerous.

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But entirely unconscious of what they were doing, the two remained in the grove for several hours.

Dinner was eaten, and then they prepared to depart about the middle of the afternoon.

The air was rather cool now, and they enjoyed the ride very much. The horse that the Donna rode was a little refreshed by the rest, and could no doubt hold out until evening.

They had not gone a mile from the grove when Chauncy heard the sound of horses’ hoofs pounding upon the ground behind him, and turning in his saddle he saw to his extreme astonishment and chagrin, a band of Comanches coming after them.

They had tracked the Donna Iola to the grove, and were now following her.