“It seems to me,” said Kit, his eyes upon the horseman, “I know that gentleman.” Dave Johnson uttered a cry. “It’s Lopez!” exclaimed he. “Down, lads, behind the wall; don’t let him see you; I’ll palaver him and maybe strike some kind of a bargain for your property.” Accordingly the boys crouched behind the bales of pelts; Lopez advanced easily upon his pony until he was within a dozen yards of the camp. Then he drew rein and sat grinning amiably at the trappers. “Well, Spotted Snake,” said Kit Carson, leaning upon his rifle and quietly surveying the half-breed, “how is it I find you in company with a band of hostiles?” Spotted Snake grinned more widely than ever. “They are not hostiles,” he said, in Spanish. “Very good Indians. Mean no harm. You got frightened.” “They may be very good redskins, as you say,” replied Kit; “but good or bad I’d rather not have many of them around with hatchets and scalping knives hidden in their blankets.” The half-breed laughed. “They didn’t know you’d take anything they did in bad part,” said he. “They are not used to dealing with white men, and so don’t know their ways.” Kit pointed to the crescent of armed warriors facing the camp. “I suppose that, too, is a sign of good-will,” said he. “Red Cloud is a big chief,” said the half-breed, “and he is very angry at the way you’ve treated him. He’s mounted his men and put them in fighting formation just to show you what he would look like if he really wanted to do you harm. He told me to tell you that his five hundred braves would dash over you as the waters of a mountain stream dash over the rocks in the time of freshets.” “You’ve lived long enough among whites and have enough white blood in you, Spotted Snake, to know that talk of that sort won’t carry very far. If Red Cloud wants to see how far his young men can dash over us let him have them try it on. We can guarantee him twenty-five dead, and himself among them.” The half-breed grinned and nodded. “I’ve told him that already,” said he. “But he was bound to have me come and ‘make talk.’ If he could have scared you in the first place your furs, traps, horses and rifles would have satisfied him, I think. He’s not a half bad sort of fellow when you come to know him.” “A while ago I asked you how you came to be in company with this band,” said Kit. “I don’t think you answered me.” “The trapping party I went out with fell in with them about ten days ago. They made us a good offer of pelts if we’d join them in a big buffalo hunt, they not having any rifles. As it was good business, the chief trapper agreed.” “The last time I saw you was at Taos,” said Kit. “How is it I find you away up here?” “I got out on the coast,” said the half-breed, “and joined a ship. But the work was too hard,” with his ever present grin. “I left them at Los Angeles.” “Ah! you were the fellow, then,” spoke the trapper as though surprised. “I heard about your desertion.”