“Just speak one word, beauty. Just say that your name is Esther and I’ll be happy as you please.”
“That certainly is my name. But why do you want to know?”
“Come here, Waupee;” and he lifted the Indian from his horse’s back and placed her by the side of the white girl. “There you are; now get acquainted.” The two females greeted each other kindly, while the happy frontiersman was stripping his good steed and shouting:
“Three cheers for you—and you—and all of us. I know the hull story, Osse ’o, and so do you, I suppose, only I can’t surmise how you came to be here, any more than you can how I got to the shelf. Come, gals, stir about and let’s have a little somethin’ to eat. I am as ravenous as a b’ar in the spring-time; more’n that, I want to git down on the perarer where it’s smooth sailin’ before sun-down.”
Ready hands make quick work; and it was not long before that strangely-arranged quartette were seated upon the low rock, satisfying their hunger. Not much time did it require either for them to be fully conversant with the history of each other’s wanderings and meetings.
The tramp of a horse startled the whole party at last.
“What in thunder is up now?” shouted Waltermyer, snatching his rifle and springing to his feet.
“The Mormon!” replied Osse ’o.
“Black Eagle!” whispered the Indian woman; and seizing Esther by the hand she almost dragged her into the concealment of the bushes.
“Twin devils!” exclaimed Waltermyer, loosening his pistols in his belt ready for instant service, and whistling to his horse he drove him back toward the perpendicular rocks.