LIFE IN THE FAR WEST. 223 



* shine' whar Injuns are about ; nor pint out a trail, whar notliiii 

 crossed but rattler-snakes since fust it snow'd on old Pike's Peak. 

 If they pack along them profits^ as you tell of, who can make it 

 rain hump-ribs and marrow-guts when the crowd gets out of the 

 buffler range, they are ' some,' now, that's a fact. But this child 

 don't believe it. I'd laugh to get a sight on these darned Mor- 

 monites, I would. They're ' no account,' I guess ; and it's the 



* meanest' kind of action to haul their women critters and their 

 young 'uns to sech a starving country as the Californys." 



" They are not all Mormons in the crowd," said the strange 

 hunter ; *' and there's one family among them with some smartish 

 boys and girls, I tell you. Their name's Brand." 



La Bonte looked up from the lock of his rifle, which he was 

 cleaning — but either didn't hear, or, hearing, didn't heed, for he 

 continued his work. 



"And they are going to part company," continued the stranger, 

 *' and put out alone for PJatte and the South Pass." 



*' They'll lose their hair, I'm thinking," said Killbuck, " if the 

 Kapahos are out thar." 



" I hope not," continued the other, " for there's a girl among 

 them worth more than that." 



" Poor beaver I" said La Bonte, looking up from his work. 

 " I'd hate to see any white gal in the hands of Injuns, and of 

 Rapahos worse than all. Where does she come from, stranger?" 



" Down below St. Louis, from Tennessee, I've heard them 

 say." 



"Tennessee," cried La Bonte — "hurrah for the old State! 

 What's her name, stran — " At this moment Killbuck's old mule 

 pricked her ears and snuffed the air, which action catching La 

 Bonte's eye, he rose abruptly, without waiting a reply to his 

 question, and exclaimed, "The old mule smells Injuns, or I'm a 

 Spaniard I" 



The hunter did the old mule justice, and she well maintained 



