“I reckon,” was the instant response; “thar’s a party of ’em less nor a mile off in thar boats, steerin’ straight for the kenyon in the mountains. As they was a-comin’ from this way you must have see’d the same skunks, Ruff?”
“So we did,” replied the hunter; “them’s the coves we’re follerin’. Did you count ’em, Matt?”
“Allers does that, when I kin git a fair squint at ’em. They war in two canoes, and thar war just ten of ’em—”
“What?” demanded old Robsart in great excitement, “sure of that, Matt?”
“I reckon I kin count ten, ef I can’t count any more, and I ciphered up them skunks twice, as I had an all-fired notion of takin’ a crack at one of ’em. Howsumever, you can ax Mr. Farrell, or Northend here, ’cause they seen ’em too.”
“Yes,” replied the latter gentleman, “I remember distinctly that Matt remarked that there were ten, upon which I counted them and found that he was right. But, why are you so deeply interested in this particular party?” asked Northend, as he reined up his horse.
“’Cause I think that little pet that I’m arter is among ’em, that’s all. I don’t s’pose you noticed, Matt, if the old chief Maquesa was with ’em?”
“No,” answered the hunter, “they war just fur enough off for me to see fairly, and I wa’n’t thinkin’ ’bout nothin’ of the kind, or I’d tuk a little closer peep on your account. If you think the little gal is among ’em you’d better be off with your Speckled Beauty.”
The three horsemen paused for some time to watch the curiously colored animal, as it went prancing and lumbering after its master, and when it was out of sight, they resumed their progress toward the fort.
“Just what I thought,” exclaimed Old Ruff, in some excitement, as soon as they were alone; “the pet is thar, and she and Maquesa make up the extra two, that Matt spoke about.”