“I’ll go to-night if you want to.” “No; there is no need of that. It will be best to wait until daylight.” “I don’t know; that’s the only time we’ve been interfered with.” “Besides,” I added. “I have faint hopes that Nat may return.” “Waugh! you’ll never see him again, and ef we’re ’bout yer another day, we’ll never see each other again. No use lookin’ fur him, shoot me ef thar is.” “I do not think he has been slain, only captured by some lurking enemy, from whom he may escape.” “No, _sir_; I tell you he’s gone, and I reckon as how we’d better be gone too.” “Perhaps you are right, Biddon, although I shall be loth to leave the vicinity when I am not satisfied of his fate.” “I’m satisfied, an’ you oughter be. Leastways, _I’m_ goin’ to-morrow, an’ you kin stay and play with these Blackfeet as long as you like. I’ve been up to see the horses, and fixed things so as to start as soon as daylight. Any ’jections?” “None at all.” “Then ’tis settled, and let’s snooze.” But it was by no means settled. As I lay that night ruminating upon the strange scenes through which I had so recently passed, the pledge that I had made with Nat came back to me. I had promised to remain by him as long as there was hope; and to desert him now, would be a violation of that vow, and a base and unworthy act upon my part. For us both to leave him would probably seal his fate, if alive. It was by no means certain that if lost, he was irrecoverably gone, and I resolved that if the trapper should depart on the morrow I would remain. In making this resolution, perhaps it was not the desire alone to benefit my companion that prompted it, although I aver that that alone would have been sufficient. Unconsciously, almost, I found my thoughts wandering from Nat to the fair being who had been the cause of all this trouble. At most, I could only speculate and conjecture with regard to her, and the same speculations and conjectures I had made before. Undoubtedly she was a captive among a tribe of Indians, over whom she wielded a great influence; and that she was the same maid referred to by Biddon, seemed certain to me. I had mentioned this thought to him, in the hope of persuading him to remain. He started somewhat at the unsuspected suggestion, and, after a few moments’ thought, admitted the probability of such being the case. To my surprise I found I had completely defeated my own plans. “I kinder thought then, that little thing war suthin’ more nor human, an’ ef it’s her, you see, I’m purty sure now. No use talkin’, I shan’t stay here longer than time ’nough to start. It might be that gal, and then agin it moughn’t. Shoot me ef it moughn’t.” I said no more, for I saw it would be useless. When he had once determined upon a matter there was no changing him. He was satisfied that “spirits invisible” had encompassed him, and there was but one way of escaping them.