“Wal, you see it must have took something extronnery to get her away from you and me—nothin’ else would have done it, and I think an ’arthquake is about the most extronnery thing that could have come—so it must have been that.”
“I can admit all that,” returned Harry, as much perplexed as ever, “but still I can not see in what particular way the earthquake caused her to desert us. You don’t mean that it caused her death?”
“No; I don’t believe it caused the death of any one, and I don’t know how it affected her; but here the whole thing is: Little Rifle is gone, and it’s a mighty strange thing—her going. About as near as we can figure thar’s a mighty big ’arthquake that come along ’bout that time—so it’s just as plain as the nose on your face that the two are mixed. ’Zactly how it is I don’t pretend to say, but we’ll go up to your camping-ground and cypher round and try and find out.”
This looked like “business,” and it was a great relief to Harry, who chafed at the delay, feeling that every hour was lessening the chances of discovering the lost one.
There was little cause for tardiness and the old trapper made none. When he had finished the words just given, he threw his long, deadly rifle over his shoulder, and moved with sweeping strides up the ravine, Harry being obliged to keep up a sort of dog-trot to prevent himself from falling in the rear. As he emerged into the more open country he cast a hasty glance around, as if in obedience to an instinctive caution; but nothing of an alarming nature was to be seen.
The lad judged from the manner of old Robsart that he was speculating in his mind as to the probable cause of the disappearance of Little Rifle, and so he did not vex him with questions which he knew he was unable to answer.
“Do you know thar’s one thing that I think is mighty lucky?” said the trapper, suddenly turning his head toward the lad, and speaking as if the idea had been in his mind for some time.
“I don’t know what it is,” said the boy, “but I hope it is something big, for we need it.”
“I was thinkin’ of that ’ere glass of yourn. I’ve seen ’em at the fort and down at Fr’isco, and of course knowed what they war used for, and yet I was always such a fool that I never knowed enough to bring ’em ’long with me. You can see how mighty handy a telescope would be on the perarie, where you could tell the varmints a long time before they could see you. Hold on to that tight, for I’ve an idee that it’s going to be of some use to us.”
“I think there is little danger of my losing it, for you know I carried it over the falls with me, where I lost nearly every thing except that and my life. But, Robsart, didn’t I hear you say that you knew this Indian chief, Maquesa, who had charge of Little Rifle in her earlier years?”