IN THE OLD WEST 



whom the timely arrival of La Bonte had caused to 

 leave his work unfinished. 



Silently, and with sad hearts, the survivors of 

 the family saw the bodies of the two boys buried 

 on the river-bank, and the spot marked with a pile 

 of loose stones, procured from the rocky bed of the 

 creek. The carcasses of the treacherous Indians 

 were left to be devoured by wolves, and their bones 

 to bleach in the sun and wind — a warning to their 

 tribe, that such foul treachery as they had medi- 

 tated had met with a merited retribution. 



The next day the party continued their course 

 to the Platte. Antoine and the stranger returned 

 to the Arkansa, starting in the night to avoid the 

 Indians; but Killbuck and La Bonte lent the aid 

 of their rifles to the solitary caravan, and, under 

 their experienced guidance, no more Indian perils 

 were encountered. Mary no longer sat perched 

 up in her father's Conestoga, but rode a quiet 

 mustang by La Bonte's side; and no doubt they 

 found a theme with which to while away the mo- 

 notonous journey over the dreary plains. South 

 Fork was passed, and Laramie was reached. The 

 Sweet Water Mountains, which hang over the pass 

 to California, were long since in sight; but when 

 the waters of the North Fork of Platte lay before 

 their horses' feet, and the broad trail was pointed 

 out which led to the great valley of Columbia and 

 their promised land, the heads of the oxen were 



