The men returned to camp, when it was decided that pursuit was simply impossible; and with gloomy forebodings and sad hearts, the emigrant-train prepared to move on. During these preparations, Wayne Kent stood a little apart in silence, his usually bright, frank face overclouded and troubled.
Wild Nat stood near, watching the breaking up of the camp, one elbow leaning on the saddle that covered the back of a large mustang, which he had procured from the train, and the other hand holding “Roarer,” as he termed his rifle.
When every thing was ready, Vic shook hands with Wild Nat, saying:
“As I didn’t engage tew guide the train only jist through the pass, I dare say ye’ll see my ugly picter some time in the course of a month. I’m kalkerlatin’ ter trap up this way somewhar.”
“Come up on Deep Creek an’ ye’ll find me,” said Wild Nat; “the beaver is so thick thar, thet they cover the ground, an’ thar tails lap by a piece. I’m bound for thar, at this present speakin’.”
“Will you take me along for company, Nat?” asked Kent, suddenly. “If you want a companion, I will act in that capacity. I have some curiosity to try a trapper’s life.”
“Take ye along?” said the trapper. “In course! Yer as welcum as the posies, my boy, an’ I hain’t enny kind o’ doubt but what, in time, ye’ll git tew know a thing or two about Injuns. All ready tew go?”
“Yes,” was the response; “all ready, and waiting.”
Bidding the emigrants good-by, the two men rode away, and were soon out of sight of the long train of white wagons left behind. For some time Kent was silent and thoughtful. He was thinking of Marion Verne, and wondering what her fate was. A desire to find, or at least be near her, had led him to stay with Wild Nat, rather than any great love for trapping, though it was curiosity to try life in the wilderness that led him to leave his home in Ohio and join the train. It was there he first saw Marion Verne, an orphan, who, in company with one of her mother’s sisters, was going to California. His musings were suddenly brought to an end by Wild Nat exclaiming:
“Thar’s suthin’ off yender. It’s Injuns tew, but they don’t see us. I’ll snatch ’em bald-headed if they cum close enough.”