Ellis Edward Sylvester
Bill Biddon, Trapper: or, Life in the Northwest

“So you are going,” said I, looking at her.

“I am going to attempt it,” she answered, firmly.

“And through no action of mine shall you ever regret this step,” I added, warmly.

“Oh! I hope he will soon return, for I wish to go,” she said, as with a shiver of apprehension she looked hurriedly about in the dark shadows of the forest.

“As yet, we know not each other’s names,” said I, pleasantly.

“True,” she answered, with a faint smile. “Mine is Imogene Merment.”

“And mine is William Relmond; but where can Jim be?”

“Ah! there he is now,” she answered, with a deep flush; and the next minute the savage stood beside us.

“The animals are there; and I’m thinking you’d better be off. Soon as you git away, I’ll cover up the hole, so thee won’t think him has crawled out; but I’m much afeared there am some peeking about here.”

“We will go at once,” said Imogene, gathering up her dress.

I turned to give a last word to Jim, but he had vanished.

“Let us hurry,” said she, “for I have a dread that we are watched, and will not get away after all. I pray God that nothing may prevent us, now that we are started.”

She almost ran, and in a minute we reached the grove referred to. Here we found two horses saddled and bridled, and ready for a journey. Without losing a moment, we mounted and struck to the northward.

“Why this direction, Imogene?” I asked.

“To avoid pursuit,” she answered. “At daylight we will change it, and proceed to the south-east.”

The open prairie was some miles distant, and as long as we were in the deep shadows of the wood, the greatest danger was to be apprehended. It was more than probable that the extended absence of Jim and Imogene, at the same time, had [Pg 203][Pg 204][Pg 205]aroused the suspicions of more than one savage. As all must have known that I was buried while still living, and that she had battled their determination as long as there was hope, when the morning came and showed her abrupt departure, they could not help suspecting the true cause.

The air was cool and exhilarating, and, as my fiery animal pranced beside that of Imogene, I could not restrain the wild, ardent hopes that thrilled my being. I was homeward bound with the fairest prize of the universe to me. What else could be needed? Ah! there was the fate of Nat, my companion, still shrouded in obscurity. I determined to question her at once in regard to him.

“Imogene, although this is hardly the proper moment, I cannot help questioning you about the fate of a friend of mine.”

“I know to whom you refer,” she answered, quickly. “I have heard him speak of you, but he does not know of your existence. He is a captive like yourself, save that he seems perfectly contented with his fate.”

“Thank heaven! it seems indeed that a wonderful Providence is watching over all of us.”

“I believe he can effect his escape, but it must be through your instrumentality, for I will not dare to show myself under the circumstances.”

“Good, clever Nat, I will do anything for him,” I exclaimed, warmly. “He is a whole-souled fellow, for all he is so odd. Only to think, he has been so nigh me all this time! Of course, it is my place to assist him, as far as lies in my power.”

“I have had several conversations with him, in all of which he spoke of you. He appeared to love you, and regretted greatly that you were so reckless. He said he had long striven to teach you how to hunt with caution, but never succeeded. He also referred to a trapper named Bill Biddon, the one who did his best to save our family when they fell victims to the savages, and who I would give all the world to see. He said he succeeded, after several years, in making quite a hunter of him.”

“Oh! the rascal,” I laughed, “just like him.”

When day dawned we continued our journey for several hours. I learned in the course of our conversation that Imogene Merment wandered continually among the tribes for many miles around, and, as I learned in after years, her existence was known to points as far opposite as Fort Churchill and Fort Hall.⁴

At noon I shot a ptarmigan, which was cooked and upon which we made a hearty dinner. Imogene ascended a small eminence to ascertain whether any signs of pursuit were visible. None were discovered, but we hurried forward until nightfall, when we drew up for the night. We started a fire, and at my urgent request, Imogene lay down beside it, while I kept watch. Our horses were picketed at scarcely a rod distant, and yet in the night they became so terrified at the approach of some animal, that they broke loose and fled, and we never saw them again.

This was a great loss to us, but in the morning we continued our journey on foot, and at noon ascended a high mountain, which was a spur of the Black Hills, lying between the Yellowstone and Missouri. The day was a clear, beautiful one, and the fairest peaks of the mountains, looming up against the blue, far-off horizon, formed a fine background to the glorious landscape spread out before us. Never shall I forget the magnificent scene which was opened to our vision. To the north, the mighty wilderness stretched in one unbroken tract as far as the eye could reach, while to the southward the glistening waters of the vast rivers could be seen, winding and losing their tortuous channels in the forest again. Numerous patches of prairie were visible to the west, and small, dark specks moving over their face, showed us that animal life was not wanting in this favored country. South of us, nestling in a deep valley, could be seen the tiny beehive-like lodges of the tribe we had left, seemingly covering scarcely a square rod of ground.

“Yonder,” said Imogene, pointing to the northward, “is the tribe which holds your friend. The village is two days’ journey, but the course is direct, and you cannot fail to find it. If you wish to search for him, I will remain here until you return. I should wish to approach no nearer, as it would increase the danger to both of us. Your friend has hunted with the tribe in this mountain, and should you be at a loss to find me again, ask him to guide you to the ‘Death Rock,’ and you will reach me by the most direct course.”

I hesitated long before leaving Imogene, but my duty to Nat, and the hopeful view she took of it, finally decided me. She was confident I should find him and be back in a few days, and urged me to delay no longer. We repaired to the “Death Rock,” where we separated. Imogene was familiar with its peculiarities, and assured me that in its recesses she could find security from any animal foe.⁵ Before leaving her, I saw that she was provided with food sufficient to last a week at least, and as she was furnished with a rifle and ammunition, her situation was certainly as good as my own.

CHAPTER XI
THE BRIGADE AND AN OLD FRIEND

After bidding Imogene good-by, I started on a rapid pace to the northward. At night I kindled a fire by which I slept in safety, and at an early hour resumed my journey. The character of the country continued much the same – broad belts of prairie relieved by groves of trees and streams of considerable magnitude. Birds of all kinds whirred through the air and sang within the wood, and the dark forms of wild animals were more than once seen gamboling in the distance.

At noon I reached the banks of a river, so large that I was pretty certain it was the Yellowstone, and hence was able to judge pretty correctly of my locality. The river was very broad, and it was quite a serious undertaking to cross it; but, nevertheless, it had to be done, and I commenced making my preparations.

As I was stepping in, a sound of voices struck me. I paused and listened, and soon could hear the loud, regular swelling song gradually approaching nearer and nearer, and at stated intervals the powerful chorus. There was something in the sound of this song, at such a time, that was indescribably stirring and inspiriting; and, as it came nigher and nigher, and grew louder, its power increased. Hardly satisfied of the nature of the approaching body, I withdrew a short distance, and waited its appearance. Soon a large canoe, nearly full of men, came to view around a bend some hundred yards distant, and it was instantly followed by another and another, all keeping time to the words of the song:

 
We are going with the tide,
Yoho! yoho!
Free as the mountain-winds we glide,
Yoho! yoho!
Oh! ours is a merry life,
Yoho! yoho!
And full of danger, toil, and strife,
Yoho! yoho!
Then join your voices
In the glad refrain,
And let the mountains
Echo back the strain.
 

As over a score of majestic voices joined in the deep swelling chorus, the echoes were awakened for miles around. I watched them in wonder and admiration. Soon, to my surprise, they made toward the shore where I stood. As it was noon, they were probably putting in for their dinner. In a moment the boats were hauled up on the bank, and as rough and hardy a set of fellows as ever met, sprang upon the shore. A half dozen scattered along the bank, and in a moment returned bearing armfuls of sticks and fuel. A huge fire was soon blazing and roaring, an enormous quantity of meat steaming and spitting, and the men, excepting the cook, were lolling about on the grass, each one smoking and chatting, and making a scene of pleasant confusion and enjoyment.

I now stepped forth from my concealment. Several turned their faces toward me as I passed them, but no unusual amount of astonishment was manifested. I made my way to a group of three, and seated myself beside them.

“Whar’d you come from?” asked a short, gruff-looking man.

“No place in particular, at present,” I replied, pleasantly.

“One of them Nor’west chaps, I s’pose?”

“No, sir; I am no trapper at all, but a mere adventurer in these parts.”

“Pooty story to tell them as will believe it,” he retorted, angrily.

“I am sure it is immaterial with me whether you [Pg 213][Pg 214][Pg 215]believe it or not. If I were a member of the Northwest Fur Company, I should not be ashamed or afraid to own it, as I believe that is as respectable and honorable as the one in whose service you are.”

“Boys! do you hear that?” called out a fellow beside me. “Yer’s one of them sneaking chaps – a Nor’wester, and he’s insulted us – ”

“Beg your pardon, sir,” I interrupted; “I did no such thing.”

“Do you hear that, I say?” he called out, without regarding my words. “Here’s a sneaking Nor’wester cracking up his party afore us.”

I was so provoked that I made no reply or noticed him. His words attracted their attention, and, anxious to see the trouble, they gathered round.

“What’s up?” demanded a stumpy fellow, pushing his head in between the others.

“A fight! a fight!”

“Make a ring for ’em.”

“Blow me, if he don’t look like one o’ them Nor’westers as sent Governor Semple out the world.⁶ Go in, Tom!”

“I’ll maul him as soon as I get in fightin’ order,” said Tom – he of my first acquaintance.

Matters were now getting serious. A collision between the redoubtable Tom and myself seemed unavoidable. His impudent bravado and insults had roused me somewhat, and I made up my mind that I should withdraw nothing I had uttered, and bear none of his insolence.

“What’s the row?” demanded another; “I don’t understand it.”

“Why, here’s a sneakin’ Nor’wester,” answered Tom, “blowin’ ’bout things, and I’ve made up my mind I won’t stand it;” and he continued his war-like preparations.

“That’s right, Tom, go in and win,” added several voices.

“Gentlemen,” said I, “all I ask is that you shall understand this matter and show fair play – ”

“We’ll do that, you!” interrupted several.

“In the first place,” I continued, “I have said nothing against the company in whose service you are. This man, whom you call Tom, accused me of being a member of a rival company; I replied I was not, although I should not be ashamed if such were the case, as I considered the latter as respectable as yours. He avers, however, I have insulted you, and seems determined to avenge it, and I am perfectly willing to gratify him. As I told him, I am not in the service of any company, but am a mere adventurer in these parts. With this explanation I am now ready for any proceeding he may wish.”

“Smash me to nuthin’, ram me down and shoot me, if thar ain’t Jarsey, or I’m a sinner!” exclaimed a familiar voice, and the same instant Bill Biddon stepped into the ring before me. “Give us your paw, Jarsey.”

He grasped my hand and gave a vigorous gripe, while his scarred countenance was dissolved in one great broad smile. It is needless to say I was delighted beyond measure at this unexpected meeting.

“Why, Bill, I little thought to meet you here.”

“And yer’s as what thinks Bill didn’t think so himself.”

During this passage of words between us, the others stood wondering and perplexed. The honest old trapper turned, and seeing Tom standing with his fists still clinched, shouted:

“Ef you say another word to that gentleman thar, as is worth forty like you, there’ll be only a grease-spot left of you. Do you hear, eh?” and he shook his ponderous fist beneath his nose.

The fellow did hear, and with a muttering, “It’s cu’rous, I allow,” donned his coat with the most perfect meekness.

“Now,” said Biddon facing the rest, “if thar are any ’bout yer as wants to take up this fout, why jist step forward and get lammed.”

“Is he a Nor’wester?” asked one, breaking the perfect silence.

“What you want to know fur?”

“’Cause if he is, he can’t pass this crowd without swallerin’ them words.”

“What words?” demanded Biddon, fiercely.

“What Tom said he said.”

“Have I not explained – ” I commenced.

“Now jist hold on, Jarsey,” interrupted the trapper, turning toward me with a backward wave of his hand. “Now, hold on, you, fur ef you take back anything you’ve said, shoot me, ef I don’t lick you. Ogh!” Then turning to the others he continued, “He ain’t goin’ to take back nothin’ he’s said yerabouts; and ef Tom Wilson thar don’t swaller what he said, yer’s as will make him do it.”

“I mought’ve be mistaken,” said the now thoroughly-frightened Tom.

“That won’t do.”

“Wal, he didn’t say so,” he jerked out.

“That’ll answer. S’posen I say he is a Nor’-wester, how ’bout that?” demanded Biddon, glaring about on the rest.

There was no response. All was still as death.

“Wal, boys,” added Bill, returning to his good nature, “he ain’t a trapper; never took a skin in his born days; is a parfect gentleman, and I’ll make you ’quainted with Bill Relmond, from the States, or, as I call him, Jarsey, as fine a chap as ever tramped these parts.”

The scene that followed was singular and amusing. All crowded around me, smiling and talking and shaking hands; and the first hand I grasped was Tom Wilson’s.

“Hope you won’t mind what I said;” he spoke in a lower tone, “I orter been lammed for it, sure.”

“Don’t refer to it,” I laughed; “I suppose you were only anxious for a little amusement to pass away time.”

“That’s it ’zactly, Jarsey, you’re a trump.”

“It’s my private opine,” called out Biddon, “that this coon is goin’ inter these eatables, and ef you wants a bite, Jarsey, you’d better jine.”

All now crowded around the meal-pot, and commenced devouring its contents with the avidity of wild animals. It consisted mainly of pemmican (dried buffalo flesh), a food much in vogue in the northwest, with several biscuits and some scalding tea. The meal finished, the men instantly produced their pipes, which they indulged in for ten or fifteen minutes. The boats were then shoved into the water, the cooking-utensils placed on board, and preparations made for starting.

“Whar you bound to?” asked Biddon, just as they were ready.

“The Blackfeet-Sioux,” I answered, unable to repress a smile.

“The Blackfeet-Sioux?” he repeated.

“Yes; do you know their grounds?”

“I’s ’bout twenty miles down-stream – that is the village. We cac’late to camp thereabouts to-night. What, in the name of beavers, do you want with them?”

“I’ll explain matters when we have a better opportunity,” I answered.

“Jump in with me then, an’ I’ll git Tom Wilson to rest a while, and we’ll talk over matters and things.”

I sprang into the boat, and the brigade was soon under way. The Yellowstone, being broad and deep and the current quite powerful, the work was comparatively light. The song was again taken up by the voyageurs, all joining in the chorus and keeping time with the measured dip of their paddles. I seated myself in the stern, beside the steersman, who I found to be a clerk in the Hudson Bay Company, and a gentleman.

“How long will you remain with us, Mr. Relmond?” he asked.

“Only until night.”

“I was in hopes you would accompany us to the settlement.”

“I should be glad to do so, but circumstances forbid.”

“It was quite fortunate,” he smiled, “that you and Biddon were acquainted. He is a noble fellow.”

“Most assuredly he is. I accompanied him, as a seeker of adventures, last summer from Independence, and we separated in the autumn, while in the wilderness. I was considerably surprised to find him in your service.”

“He had a misunderstanding with his employers, I believe. He had a dispute with one of their agents, and gave him a severe pounding. He was reproved rather sharply for this and left the company in disgust. This was during the winter. Shortly after he visited Red River settlement, and volunteered his services, and they were gladly accepted, as his skill was known to many.”

“He has been then but a short time with you.”

“Only a few weeks – but long enough to let us know the value of his services. This brigade is all owing to him.”

“How so?”

“You are aware we are now in the United States territory. It is not often that we extend our work into it, except in Oregon, which has lately fallen into the hands of the Americans. Biddon had engaged a large quantity of furs of the Indians in the neighborhood, intending them for one of their fur companies, but after his dispute he offered them to us, and this brigade was dispatched for the purpose of collecting them. He will find there is quite a pile of money due him at York fort when he arrives there.”

Further time was spent in conversation with the clerks when I noticed a person had taken Biddon’s place at the oars. The trapper motioned me beside him, and seating ourselves in the opposite end of the boat he said:

“Now we’ll have a talk, Jarsey, ogh!”

“The first thing to be knowed,” said Biddon, “is how in the name of human natur you come in these parts. How war it, Jarsey?”

“You must remember, Biddon, I’ve been a prisoner for the last six months.”

“Did you ever hear nothin’ of Greeny?”

“Yes; a rumor reached me that he was living with a tribe of Indians to the east of us.”

“Altogether onpossible,” answered the trapper, with a shake of his head.

“Why is it impossible?”

“He’s had his ha’r raised sure, and never seed the next day arter we seed the last on him.”

“I am more hopeful than you are. Recollect I have been a captive and am now here without bodily harm.”

“It’s qua’r, I allow, how you come out, as you did. The reds down in them parts are ramparageous, and if it hadn’t been for that Jim, you spoke about, and that gal, you’d a gone under sure. I’s tuck once by them same chaps one time. Me an’ Snapper Jack was sat on one dark night in an awful snowstorm by a hundred on ’em. They blazed right into us, and Jack rolled over with a pound of lead in him and never said a word. I’s purty well riddled in my lower story, but I tuk through and got off with my ha’r, while Jack never knowed who tuk his. They cac’lated on toastin’ you up brown, and would ef it want fur that gal, as I’s sayin’ while he’s had it all.”

“I cannot yet see, Biddon, why there is not a probability of Nat’s being alive. The Indians in these parts are on friendly intercourse with the traders, and it is in this region, if anywhere, that he will be found.”

“I don’t b’lieve he’s about. They got him down thar, and he got it down thar, sure.”

These words of the trapper dampened my expectations greatly. Much of the joy of my hope was that I expected to again grasp the hand of my old friend, and the thought that he had long been dead made me sad and gloomy. However, I was not ready to give up all hope, and determined that I should be satisfied of his fate before I returned to the States.

The brigade proceeded regularly and rapidly down the Yellowstone, until the sun sinking in the west, warned them that night was at hand. The steersman informed me they should not be able to reach the Indian village that night, but would early the next day. Just as the shadows were blending with the darkness on the river banks, the brigade ran into shore for the night’s encampment. There was a dense forest on either side of us, which rendered our situation dark and gloomy; but this was soon dispelled by the jolly voyageurs. Fuel was collected, and a great roaring fire crackled and blazed cheerily around us; and the men passing to and fro, chatting and joking, the confusion of preparations for supper, made a scene well calculated to dispel all gloomy reveries. The three boats were hauled up on the banks, turned over, and their contents scattered among the owners, and all gathered around the hearty evening meal. These hardy fellows after the laborious day’s work, their appetites sharpened, and healthy truly,

“Ate like horses, when you hear them eat.”

The meal finished, the indispensable pipes were in requisition. Three or four huge fires were kindled, around which the men lazily stretched themselves, to while away the hour that must elapse ere they “turned in” for the night. The brigade included men in it, who had trapped and hunted the shores of the Frozen Sea to the plains of the Kansas, and from Labrador to the mouth of the Columbia, beyond the Rocky Mountains. They had encountered every imaginable foe: the intense cold and the polar bear of the far North, and the innumerable hordes of savages of the more temperate regions; and now they recounted their thrilling reminiscences to each other, and speculated upon the fate still in store for them. The hour passed rapidly, and ere I was aware, the voyageurs were gathering their blankets around them for the night’s rest.

“Come, bundle up, Jarsey,” said Biddon, “for thar’ll be no time to snooze in the daylight.”

The men were stretched at every point around the fire, their feet being toward it, their heads radiating outward, so that the three groups resembled the same number of immense wheels. As most of the places were occupied, I lay a little beyond the circle, within a foot or two of Biddon. The fires now smoldered, and the heavy darkness again settled over wood and river. Nothing disturbed the deep silence save the faint flow of the Yellowstone, or the dull noise of an ember as it broke apart, and now and then the distant wail of some wild animal. But a short time elapsed ere I joined the rest in the land of dreams.

The night passed away without any event worthy of note; and the first apprisal I had of the approach of day, was by hearing loud cries of “Léve! léve! léve!”⁷ uttered by numerous voices.

Starting up, I saw the voyageurs were all astir, and making ready to embark. The boats were launched, and being too early for breakfast, the men sprang in and seized the oars.

“When we halt for breakfast,” said the steersman, “it will be at the Indian village, which I understand is your destination.”

With the same inspiring song of yesterday, the men bent to their oars, and the boats shot rapidly through the foaming water. In the course of an hour or more, the brigade put in for breakfast, and the same bustling scene that had taken place the night before was re-enacted.

The place chosen was a broad, open plot of grass, reaching down to the water’s edge, and extending some hundred feet back, when the edge of the forest was reached. No signs of Indians were seen, and I was somewhat puzzled to know how it was known they were in the vicinity. The clerk mentioned before, explained to me that Biddon had described the halting spot, and the distance so accurately, that there could be no mistake, and the savages would soon make their appearance.

We had scarcely spoken, when a movement was heard in the forest, and several Indians made their appearance. They seemed to understand the meaning of the brigade; for, directly behind them came numbers of others bearing loads of peltries – the furs of beavers, foxes, badgers, lynxes, martens, otters, and wolverines. A barter at once commenced, and in less than half an hour the whole array was deposited in the boats, and the Indians were proudly parading in the gaudy trinkets and dresses which had just fallen to their lot.

“Where is their village?” I asked of Biddon.

“A mile or so back in the woods; you can’t miss it.”

“I can remain here without danger, can I not?”

“Yas, I guess so – hold on, I’ll fix it for you.”

With this he strode rapidly toward a man who appeared to be the chief, and commenced a conversation. He understood the Sioux tongue well enough to hold quite an intelligible conversation. The talk lasted but a moment, when he returned.

“You needn’t be skeerish,” said he; “I’ve made it all right. I told that old chap you wanted to take a look at the country hereabouts, to skeer up some furs fur us agin. He was a little s’pishus at fust, shoot me ef he warn’t! and he axed ef you wanted to run off with that gal o’ theirs, ’cause ef you war, you’d better leave yer ha’r behind you. There’s been two or three round these parts after her, and he won’t stand it no longer. You’ve got to be mighty shy, Jarsey, I kin tell yer; but I hope you’ll git her fur all that, ogh!”

“I am grateful to you for this kindness, Biddon – ”

“Never mind ’bout that; come to the pint ef you’ve got anything to say.”

“I had nothing except to express my thanks, which you seem averse to receiving.”

“It does go again my stummick, I allow, Jarsey; when you come the squaw over me, I can’t stand it. Yer’s as likes to talk fair and squar, and leave the rest. Shoot me ef I doesn’t! Wal I does, ogh!”

“I suppose the time has come for us to separate, then, Biddon?”

“Leastways it’s close at hand. Think you’d better go up to Selkirk settlement with us; don’t s’pose you will; think you’re a fool, shoot me ef I don’t, ogh!”

“It seems our separation is to be something like it was before,” I laughed. “I believe you had a small opinion of my abilities at that time.”

“Wal, yer’s as hopes you’ll come out right side up this time. In course I’ll have a glimpse of that ugly face of your’n agin. In course.”

“I don’t know about that. As you have gone into the service of the Hudson Bay Company, your sphere of action will be far removed from mine, and it will be an occurrence which I cannot imagine at this time that will bring us together.”

“That ain’t so sartin,” said the trapper, in a low, confidential tone. “I rather opine I’ll be down in Westport or Independence this fall, and ef these fellows cac’lates on keepin’ me around, they’ve got to step round ’emselves. Shoot me if they hain’t, ogh!”

“I hope you will not spend your life in the dreary region north of this, for it will indeed be a dreary, lonely life for you.”

“Wal, you see, Jarsey,” he continued, with a shade of feeling, “it don’t make much difference whar I traps. Yer’s as s’pects to go under somewhar in the mountains, and leave my topknot fur the buzzards and reds, and it mought as well be in one part as t’other of this country.”

“Fudge, Biddon, don’t talk that way. Why I am sure I shall see you settled down in the States with a wife and a dozen children – ”

I paused as I noticed the trapper’s face. Some strange emotion was gaining the mastery over him; but he conquered in a minute.

“Never talk that way agin, Jarsey; I can’t stand it.”

“Pardon me; you will soon be under way,” I spoke, wishing to pass from the allusion which had been so painful to him. He turned, and looking at the brigade, which was making preparations to start, answered:

“Yas; the boys are near ready, and they won’t wait. What yer goin’ to do, Jarsey, when we leave you ’mong the reds?”

“I have told you, Biddon, that my sole purpose is to seek out Nat Todd. I have given you an account of my meeting and partial flight with Imogene, the captive, who has told me of his whereabouts. She is now waiting at Death Rock for me, and is as confident as I am that I shall bring Nat with me. These Indians, believing Imogene to be with the other tribe, will not suspect her flight unless a runner arrives here and acquaints them with it; but I have little fear of that, as I have no expectation of remaining any length of time.”

“Wal, as that little gal has seed Nat, of course he’s kickin’. Bless her soul! I’d like to see her sweet face, but I s’pose the brigade can’t spare me just now. Jarsey, I’ve my s’picions that that other sperit is somewhere out toward Oregon, ’mong a tribe of redskins. I’ve had my s’picions I say, but I’ll say nothin’ more now ’cept to kind of hint I may take a tramp out in them parts some day to see ef thar be signs of her.”

“I sincerely hope that such may be the case, although I cannot be as sanguine as you are. Should you rescue her, the debt of gratitude – ”

“There! that’ll do, ogh!” interrupted Biddon, imperatively. “Such things go agin my stummick, and I don’t want to hear ’em. As you’re on the track of Nat, go, fur he may be somewhar yit, in spite of the fears I have that he isn’t, arter all.”

“Rest assured I shall leave no stone unturned. I shall seek him at once.”

“And when you finds him, jest tell him old Bill Biddon is about, and ready to hunt savages with him any time, ef he don’t git behind me when shootin’ time comes. Ogh! ogh!” and the trapper enjoyed his joke merrily. He stopped suddenly and looked at the brigade. A few moments more and they would be under way.

“Wal, Jarsey, talkin’ time’s gittin’ mighty short. I’d like to talk longer, but can’t do it this time. Hope we’ll have a time down in the States ’fore long.”

“I sincerely trust we shall,” I answered, unwilling to turn away from the hopeful picture which he was drawing for himself.

“And we’ll have Nat ’long with us,” he added.