“I reckon I can trust ye; and if I can’t trust ye I can watch ye. Hold the hoss’ head, and I’ll sail up to his back.” The scout held the horse by the head, and with an agility that was surprising, disdaining his aid, she put a foot in the stirrup and mounted to the animal’s back, seating herself behind the saddle. “I’m spryer’n I look,” she said, “otherwise I couldn’t got into that tree where ye found me. Now, if you’ll mount, we’ll jog along, and you can tell me more about yerself while we’re goin’. I’ll say to you that Pizen Jane, of Cinnabar, is searchin’ fer somebody she hopes to find; and if she finds him, interestin’ times aire billed to foller fer all concerned. That’s why I’m on this trail; what you’re on it fur ain’t appeared yit, so fur as I know.” Buffalo Bill mounted, smiling at the woman’s naïve manner of trying to “pump” him. Then they jogged on, as quaint a pair as the trail had seen in many a day. CHAPTER III. CHASED BY WOLVES. Because of the intense midsummer heat in that desert region, Buffalo Bill did not journey far that morning, but relieved his horse of its double burden long before noon, and took shelter from the burning sun in the shady depths of the cañon, at a point where its sides were scalable for man and beast. Pizen Jane seemed impervious to the heat, and declared her anxiety to go on. But she descended into the cañon, and there helped the scout eat the food which remained after her famine feast of the morning. Throughout the journey, and now, as she and the scout rested, she asked strange questions without number, all tending to show that she still did not believe he was the man he represented himself to be. What her own intentions and plans were she cloaked with much cleverness, though she talked all around the subject, drowning it in a very sea of words. Buffalo Bill gained the idea, however, that she had suffered some wrong at the hands of some man, or men, or that some bitter grief and disappointment had come to her; for the avenging, or righting, of which she had set forth alone on this dangerous trail. In addition, it seemed that she suspected him of being in some manner concerned in the wrong done her, and that she had proofs of it she more than once hinted. “I begin to fear you are crazy, madam,” he said, at length, when she had vexed him with her many hints of personal wrongdoing. “But please remember that I never met you before, and know absolutely nothing of any of the men you so veiledly speak of. I might know more, if you would be more open in what you say.” “And then you’d know too much, if you ain’t the reel Buffler!” she cackled. “Pizen Jane may be homely lookin’, and no doubt she is, but she ain’t no fool.” They did not go on until the cool shadows of evening covered the trail. They continued the journey far into the night, going forward by the light of the moon.