“No. I don’t know where he is. I must look him up to-day. He may have been captured by the Indians and they may have carried off his ponies and his belongings.”
“So they might,” said Kit Carson in a low voice. “Very likely that’s just what they did. We’ll have to give you a lift, however, and help you try to find him. Have you had any breakfast?”
“Yes. Your dogs chased a wounded buffalo into the gorge where I was and I shot it.”
“Yes,” explained Kit Carson. “We saw a big herd this morning and cut out two or three cows, but two of them gave us the slip and the third we wounded, but it got away, though the dogs took after it.”
“It is only a little way back yonder; you’ll find the carcass there now.”
“I don’t think we shall go back for the carcass,” said the guide quietly. “There are too many herds around here for us to bother about a little thing like that. How are the streams?”
“I don’t know,” answered Reuben. “The only ones I have seen were in that valley where I was, and there they were not very full.”
“Did you see any beaver?”
“Yes. Jean and I found several dams.”
“Have you seen any Indians?”