“Did ye catch her?”
“No, ’cause I daresn’t.”
The trapper was in earnest, and here is the experience he gave:
After separating from his friends, on the preceding evening, he had quietly pursued his way down the cañon, and had nearly reached his home, when he heard the tramp of a horse, near at hand. The darkness was so great that he could see nothing, but he knew the horse was coming directly toward him; so he stepped to one side and allowed it to pass.
The horse snuffed, and showed some uneasiness, proving that he was aware of the personality of some one, but he continued steadily onward, and passed by.
“I’ll foller and l’arn somethin’ ’bout yer,” concluded the trapper, as he moved silently behind the animal, that could be easily followed by the sound of its hoofs.
A short distance on the animal turned off into what might be termed a branch cañon, leading off at a sharp angle from the one that held Stebbins and Teddy at that moment. Indeed, the hunters had observed through the day that there were several entrances into the chasm in which they had chosen to make their quarters for the time.
In the course of half an hour the gradual rising of the ground brought them upon the prairie. As the horse stepped upon the high and temporarily level ground, it was brought in full relief against the sky, the trapper standing somewhat below it, so that it and its rider were outlined against the faintly-lit sky, as if drawn in ink.
What was Black Tom’s amazement, when he saw at this moment that the rider was a woman, with an Indian shawl thrown around her shoulders! As if she suspected that some one was near her, she partly turned her head, at the instant her animal stepped upon the prairie, so that the profile of her face was plainly seen.
“Skulp me! ef she ain’t a white woman!” fairly gasped the trapper, who could scarcely credit his senses. “What is she doin’ hyar?”