“I know vat dey pe; dey sits on a stone in der mill, mit dere little chisels, unt go chip, chip, chip on der stones; dat ish vat a Mill’rite pe.” “Ye git out! ’tain’t no sech thing; this hyar critter was a _preacher_. He was a long-haired, lanky chap, with jaws ez long ez my knife. I didn’t believe him then; I do now. Blame me ef I ever hern tell of sech a thing. Come hyar, Diamond.” The white horse, which had been straying at will about the cañon, came at his call, and rubbed his beautiful head against the trapper’s shoulder. The old man returned the caress by gently stroking the silken mane and putting it back from the ears of the noble animal. “I kin forgive ’em a good deal, seein’ they left ye to me,” said Ben. “Ef they’d taken ye away, old hoss, I’d ’a’ gone for ’em in a way thet would hev set ’em back sev’ral files, the durned critters.” “Penn,” said Jan, “somepoty’s a-coomin’.” “Whar?” said Ben. “Listen, unt you hear ’em. A horse is valking dis vay.” “Git to kiver then. Into the hut; it’s the only place. Blame my cats ef they ain’t comin’ back.” They plunged hastily into the cabin and barred the door. This done, they went to the side looking toward the entrance to the cañon and watched. They could hear the hoofs of the coming horse, and make out that he was advancing slowly. At last the head of the horse appeared in view, then the rider, and they saw who it was. Jules Damand! His hands and feet were tied, and he could urge his horse forward only very slowly. Both the men started out eagerly to meet him, followed by Millicent. They cut his bonds and assisted him to alight. “Ve t’ought you vas teat,” said Jan. “I thought you war gobbled,” said Ben. “So I was,” said Jules, coolly, with a sidelong look at the face of Millicent. “But you see I have escaped.” His manner was constrained, and he tried to avoid the eyes of his companions. To their questioning he made answer that the Indians had ridden out upon the prairie, and soon after entered a defile in the hills--a dark and narrow pass. In this pass he managed to make his escape, leaving Bentley in the hands of the enemy. “Couldn’t you ’a’ managed to cut his bonds loose, or least ways to give him a wink somehow?” “No, I couldn’t,” said he, rather sulkily. “You don’t seem over glad I got away.” “And glad we ar’ to see ye, though ye didn’t bring the young man with ye. It does my heart good to see ye. I gave ye up fer a goner. Lordy! when Whirling Breeze gits his claw on a white man, he ain’t got much chaince, unless the Injuns take a shine to him ez the Crows did to me. Did ye hear why they didn’t take our traps?” “Something which the boy said; he is a son of Whirling Breeze.” “I thought so; they ar’ alike ez picters. I’m glad I did the boy a good turn. I kain’t git it through me how Whirling Breeze ever let them traps alone. And the hosses! Who ever hern tell of an Injun leavin’ a hoss he could steal jest ez well ez not?”