“I hain’t seen her,” said Abe.
The expression of disappointment upon the manly features of Dave was painful to behold. The old guide hastened to relieve his mind.
“Don’t look or feel downhearted, man. Though I hain’t seen her, yet I’ve hearn of her.”
“You have?” cried Dave, eagerly.
“You bet! But ’tain’t much consolation for you. She’s in the hands of the Crows, an’ they’re carrying her off for the mountains.”
Then the “Crow-Killer” told Dave all that he had witnessed from his hiding-place. When he had finished his story, Dave for a few minutes was silent, apparently in deep thought.
“Abe, what shall I do?” he asked, at length.
“I s’pose you want my honest advice,” said the “Crow-Killer.”
“Yes,” responded the young guide.
“Wal, the case is jist hyar; the Crows are carrying the gal off to their lodges in the mountains, in the Crow nation, probably to the village of the ‘Thunder-Cloud.’ When they get thar, of course they’ll celebrate their capture of the fur-wagons; then they’ll probably marry the little gal to the ‘White Vulture’; that’s the programme, I think.”