276 LIFE IN THE FAR WEST 



The next day our hunters started on their journey 

 down the river, travelling leisurely, and stopping where- 

 ever good grass presented itself. One morning they 

 suddenly struck a wheel trail, which left the creek 

 banks and pursued a course at right angles to it, in the 

 direction of the " divide." Killbuck pronounced it but 

 a few hours old, and that of three waggons drawn by 

 oxen. 



" Wagh ! " he exclaimed, " if them poor devils of 

 Mormonites ain't going head first into the Eapaho trap. 

 They'll be ' gone beaver ' afore long." 



" Ay," said the strange hunter, " these are the wag- 

 gons belonging to old Brand, and he has started alone 

 for Laramie. I hope nothing will happen to them." 



" Brand ! " muttered La Bonte. " I knowed that 

 name mighty well once, years agone ; and should hate the 

 worst kind that mischief happened to any one who bore 

 it. This trail's as fresh as paint ; and it goes against 

 me to let these simple critters help the Rapahos to 

 their own hair. This child feels like helping 'em out 

 of the scrape. What do you say, old hos 1 " 



" I thinks with you, boy,'" answered Killbuck, " and 

 go in for following this waggon trail, and telling the 

 poor critters that thar's danger ahead of them. What's 

 your talk, stranger 1 " 



" I go with you," shortly answered the latter ; and 

 both followed quickly after La Bonte, who was already 

 trotting smartly on the trail. 



Meanwhile the three waggons, containing the house- 

 hold gods of the Brand family, rumbled slowly over the 



