"Have you always lived up here in the mountains?"
"No, but I hev bin here most of my life. Ye see there's not much to annoy ye here, an' I don't keer fur all yer noise in the towns. There's nothin' like the prairie an' the mountains fur a man to get a livin' in an' be happy."
"And have you always found the happiness you wished for in these places?" asked the stranger with interest. "Happiness is what I have ever been in quest of, and I must confess I have failed to find what I desired."
"Wall, I've got along pretty well. Of course I've had my hard times like other folk an' been down to bed-rock many a time."
"Have you all your children with you?"
"No. I've lost some, like my neighbors. It's not so very long since we buried Nan, and then my Bill went like all the rest." And the old man sighed as he paused for a moment. The stranger waited until he spoke again.
"Yes, Bill was a brave lad. He was born in the Indian camp when I wus workin' fur the Company, away in the north. The little fellow ran among the lodges, an' it wusn't long till he could talk Cree, an' Blackfoot, an' Sioux, an' French. He wus a good rider an' a fine hand at the gun. I tell ye I wus proud o' him when he wus a little fellow. The Indians an' half-breeds wus afeard o' him, 'cause, ye see, he could ride an' shoot better'n them, an' he wus a fine talker in the Indian camps. I min' once when he wus a little fellow runnin' around the Fort an' up to all kinds o' tricks, that he went off with Long Tom the half-breed, without lettin' me know.
"Tom wus a good shot, but a reckless fellow, an' if ye didn't look out he wus sure to get himself an' his friends into trouble. After he had gone some o' my comrades come an' told me, an' I wusn't well pleased, but I thought it 'ud turn out all right, so I said nothin', an' waited fur him to get back.
"Wall, ten days went by an' I wus gettin' kind o' anxious, an' I made up my mind if he didn't get back in a couple o' days I'd go off an' look fur him.
"Late that night as I wus sittin' by the fire he come in. The wee fellow had his head tied up with a bit o' blanket, an' one o' his arms in a sling. His moccasins wur worn off his feet an' he couldn't speak. He looked in my face an' kin' o' staggered an' fell down on the floor. He wur completely done. I jumped out o' my old cheer an' took him in my arms. His head wus badly cut an' his hair all stickin' wi' blood, an' his arm wus bruised an' black. We got him fixed up in bed an' didn't ask any questions fur two weeks. Then he told his story. Long Tom an' him had gone off to shoot deer an' weren't havin' much success, an' when their grub wus all gone an' they had to live on berries, they thought they'd better get back.