Shagbark had trapped many winters far up among the wild solitudes of the Rockies, and was so familiar with the overland route that none could be better qualified than he to lead a party over the plains. It may seem odd that though he had spent so much time in the West, and was there during the height of the gold excitement, he never passed beyond Salt Lake City. Many of his old friends urged him to join them in a trip to the diggings, but the stubborn old fellow shook his head. He preferred to fight Indians and cold and hunger for the sake of a few peltries, whose sale brought enough to support him in idleness between trapping seasons. Shagbark was a peculiar character. He was fond of smoking a brier wood pipe, and often rode for hours without speaking a word to anyone, or giving the slightest attention when addressed. Mr. Fleming had hired him as a guide to Salt Lake, where it would be necessary to engage some one to take his place. When the trapper was asked to name his charge he growled: “One hundred dollars a month in gold and found.” “Very well; I am willing to pay you each month in advance.” “I want it when it’s airned; ye’d be a fool to pay it afore.” Nothing more was said on the subject. Shagbark crumpled up some dry fragments from a plug of tobacco, in the palm of his hand, punched them into the bowl of his pipe, switched a match along the side of his buckskins, applied the tiny flame, and rode to the head of the company without another word. He always carried a long-barrelled rifle across his saddle in front, with a formidable Colt’s revolver at his hip. A keen hunting knife was an indispensable part of his equipment. Beyond telling Fleming and his companions that they were sure to have plenty of trouble before reaching Salt Lake, he made no further reference to the matter. He generally kept some distance in advance of the company and maintained a sharp watch of the country on all sides. Shagbark was a man of moods. The second night after crossing the Missouri, when the wagons had been placed in a circle, the animals allowed to browse on the luxuriant grass, so well guarded that they could not wander afield, he came back and sat down among the group that were eating from the food spread on a blanket. He was so talkative that all were astonished. He laughed, chuckled, and went so far as to relate some of his strange experiences in the wild regions of the Northwest. He took special notice of Alden Payne. Sitting beside him, cross-legged on the ground, he asked the youth his name, where he was from and how he came to be with the party heading for the other side of the continent. “I rather like yer looks, younker,” added the grim old trapper; “I hope ye’ll git through right side up and scoop more gold than yer hoss can carry.” “I haven’t any idea of that,” replied Alden, proud that he should have caught the pleased attention of this veteran of the plains.