Whatever mistake there might be, there was evidently none in that command; so he lowered his head and tail humbly, and trotted on with his master, but he perpetually turned his head as he went, first on this side and then on that, to look and wonder at Charlie.
When they were far away on the plain, Charlie suddenly became aware that something was wrong.

He trotted to the brow of a slope, with his head and tail very high up indeed, and looked after them; then he looked at the fire, and neighed; then he trotted quickly up to it, and seeing that everything was gone he began to neigh violently, and at last started off at full speed, and overtook his friends, passing within a few feet of them, and, wheeling round a few yards off, stood trembling like an aspen leaf.
Dick called him by his name and advanced, while Charlie met him half-way, and allowed himself to be saddled, bridled, and mounted forthwith.
After this Dick had no further trouble with his wild horse.
At his next camping-place, which was in the midst of a cluster of bushes close beside a creek, Dick came unexpectedly upon a little wooden cross which marked the head of a grave.

There was no inscription on it, but the Christian symbol told that it was the grave of a white man.

It is impossible to describe the rush of mingled feelings that filled the soul of the young hunter as he leaned on the muzzle of his rifle and looked at this solitary resting-place of one who, doubtless like himself, had been a roving hunter.

Had he been young or old when he fell?
had he a mother in the distant settlement who watched and longed and waited for the son that was never more to gladden her eyes?
had he been murdered, or had he died there and been buried by his sorrowing comrades?
These and a thousand questions passed rapidly through his mind as he gazed at the little cross.
Suddenly he started.