"SAVED BY AN ANGEL!" The shadow of Walt Wilder is again projected over the Staked Plain, as before, to a gigantic length.

But this time westwardly, from a sun that is rising instead of setting.
It is the morning after he parted with his disabled companion; and he is now making back towards the spot where he had left the latter, the sun's disc just appearing above the horizon, and shining straight upon his back.

Its rays illumine an object not seen before, which lends to Walt's shadow a shape weird and fantastic.

It is that of a giant, with something sticking out on each side of his head that resembles a pair of horns, or as if his neck was embraced by an ox-yoke, the tines tending diagonally outwards.
On looking at Walt himself the singularity is at once understood.

The carcase of a deer lies transversely across his back, the legs of the animal being fastened together so as to form a sling, through which he has thrust his head, leaving the long slender shanks, like the ends of the letter X, projecting at each side and high above his shoulders.
Despite the load thus borne by him, the step of the ex-Ranger is no longer that of a man either despairing or fatigued.