"Las' H'august-Settemb. H'all of an' at once he'll took the trail h'after the h'emigrant train las' year. He'll caught him h'on Fort Hall; we'll heard. But then he go h'on with those h'emigrant beyon' Hall, beyon' the fork for Californ'. He'll not come back. No one know what has become of Jeem. He'll been dead, maybe-so."
"Yes? Maybe-so not! That old rat knows his way through the mountains, and he'll take his own time. You think he did not go on to California?"
"We'll know he'll didn't."
Carson stood and thought for a time.
"Well, its bad for you, Chardon!"
"How you mean, M'sieu Kit?"
"Eat your last square meal. Saddle your best horse. Drive four packs and two saddle mounts along."
"Oui? And where?"
"To Oregon!"
"To Oregon? Sacre 'Fan!' What you mean?"