“He claimed that Black Jack was outside the camp and that he didn’t intend to run away with him. He was going to bring him back just as soon as he disposed of the furs. I have just come back to tell you, Reuben, that I’m not going back to camp just now. Do you think you can find your way alone?”
“Yes. Why don’t you want me to stay with you?”
Kit Carson shook his head as he said in a low voice: “It will be better, Reuben, for you to go back to camp. Tell the men that I shall be there some time to-morrow.”
Reuben looked suspiciously into the face of the scout, but there was nothing in his expression to betray what his intentions were. Convinced that there was nothing more to be said, Reuben reluctantly spoke to his horse and started on his journey back to the camp. Occasionally he glanced behind him, but after a few minutes had elapsed he was unable to discover the scout anywhere on the plains. Doubtless he had returned to the village, though just what his purpose in doing so Reuben was unable to conjecture.
Steadily Reuben continued on his way, and the return, inasmuch as he was able to proceed directly and was not compelled to stop in order to study the signs in the sand as to the course which Rat had followed, did not require as much time as had been consumed in the journey in pursuit of the thief.
Near noon of the day following that on which he had left his companion Reuben entered the camp. In response to the eager questions of his friends he related what had befallen him and Kit Carson in their efforts to overtake Rat. There were exclamations of anger over the fate which had befallen Black Jack and many expressions of wonder as to why Kit had permitted the braggart to depart from the Indian village before severe punishment had been inflicted upon him. Nor did Kit Carson offer any explanation when he returned two days later.
The steady routine of the camp life continued during the weeks that followed, and when at last the entire party once more made its way back to Taos every one was well satisfied with the success which had attended their combined labours.
With Kit Carson now went the young Indian girl who was his wife. The long journey at last was completed and preparations were made for the quiet weeks that must ensue at the little Spanish settlement. The weeks ran into months, and a baby girl that had been born to Kit Carson and his wife had grown into a laughing, though quiet, dark-eyed little beauty. She was the pet of every one in the settlement, and the pride of Kit Carson in the little maid was apparent to all his friends. Indeed the unusual demonstration of affection which the scout displayed as he played with the little girl was the cause of much comment among his friends.
One day, however, there came a sadness upon all who knew the scout. His young Indian wife had been taken ill, and despite all the efforts of the people in the little settlement to help her, their work proved unavailing. In a brief time the dark-eyed wife of Kit Carson was dead. Not long after her death the scout came to Reuben and said: “I’m going to start for Pain Court. Do you want to go with me?”
For a moment Reuben was silent. He recalled the circumstances under which he had departed from the place years ago. His mother was dead and his father, either made unfeeling by the death of his wife or hardened by the conditions of his life, had become indifferent to Reuben. He had insisted that he would no longer be responsible for the care of the lad, and it was partly because of the hardships which in this manner were thrust upon him that Reuben had started with Jean Badeau across the long plains.