"But are you sure of this?" she asked, trembling with grief.
"Ah, now, j'ne suis pas sûr; mais I tink you know dis La Bonté. Enfant de garce, maybe you de gal in Missouri he lofe, and not lofe him. Pe gar!'fant de garce! fort beau garçon dis La Bonté; pourquoi you ne l'aimez pas? Maybe he not go ondare. Maybe he turn op, autrefois. De trappares, dey go ondare tree, four, ten times, mais dey turn op twenty time. De sauvage not able for kill La Bonté, ni de dam Espagnols. Ah, non! ne craignez pas; be gar, he not gone ondare encore."
Spite of the good-natured attempts of the Canadian, poor Mary burst into a flood of tears: not that the information took her unawares, for she long had believed her lover dead; but because the very mention of his name awoke the strongest feelings within her breast, and taught her how deep was the affection she had felt for him whose loss and violent fate she now bewailed.
As the wagons of the lone caravan roll on towards the Platte, we return to the camp where La Bonté, Killbuck, and the stranger, were sitting before the fire when last we saw them. Killbuck loquitur:—
"The doin's of them Mormon fools can't be beat by Spaniards, stranger. Their mummums and thummums you speak of won't shine whar Injuns are about; nor pint out a trail, whar nothin' crossed but rattler-snakes since fust it snowed on old Pike's Peak. If they pack along them profits, as you tell of, who can make it rain hump-ribs and marrow-guts when the crowd gets out of the buffler range, they are some, now, that's a fact. But this child don't believe it. I'd laugh to get a sight on these darned Mormonites, I would. They're no account, I guess; and it's the meanest kind of action to haul their women critters and their young'uns to sech a starving country as the Californys."
"They are not all Mormons in the crowd," said the strange hunter; "and there's one family amongst them with some smartish boys and girls, I tell you. Their name's Brand."
La Bonté looked up from the lock of his rifle, which he was cleaning—but either didn't hear, or, hearing, didn't heed, for he continued his work.
"And they are going to part company," continued the stranger, "and put out alone for Platte and the South Pass."
"They'll lose their hair, I'm thinking," said Killbuck, "if the Rapahos are out thar."
"I hope not," continued the other, "for there's a girl amongst them worth more than that."