When the spring opened operations were commenced on the Salmon; at length they reached the Snake or Shoshone River; and the giant falls one day burst upon the vision of the boys. The lava peaks rose in wild grandeur all about it; the mighty rush of the water awed and amazed even the hardy spirits of the buckskinned adventurers. Along the Snake they trapped to the Bear; and from there to the Green River once more. Here they encountered a trapper band which proved to be that of Sinclair, of whom Zeke had spoken. “Captain Gaunt,” said head trapper Sinclair to Kit. “Why, yes, I’ve heard of him now and then since we got up into this country. He put in the winter on the Laramie River; and if I’m not much mistaken he’s now trapping somewhere in the South Park.” At once Kit sought out Mr. Fitzpatrick; he told the adventurous Irishman as much as he saw fit of the hunt for Moccasin Williams and the desire of himself and the boys to hunt up Gaunt’s band without delay, now that it was located. “Why, then,” said the chief trapper, “go, and good luck to you. And it’s catch the thief of the world I hope you do. For the like of him is a bigger danger than the Blackfeet themselves.” Zeke Matthews and another seasoned adventurer named Gordon elected to follow Kit and his young friends in their journey to the South Park. “The Fitzpatrick company are about through their trapping,” said the first of these veterans, “and there’s no use taking a long ride back to Taos, only to turn about and make for the rivers again in a little while after. Gaunt’s going to stay; he’ll cache his pelts until he’s put in a couple of seasons.” So the four, well armed, set out; and without any notable adventures reached the trapping ground of Captain Gaunt. The latter was a hearty man past sixty, a true type of the Westerner of the time. He welcomed the visitors to his outfit with the utmost warmth. But when Kit spoke of the object of their journey he frowned blackly. “Moccasin Williams, do you say?” he almost shouted; before he could continue Kit laid a warning hand upon his arm. “Not so loud,” said the young trapper; “he’ll hear you.” “Well, if he does, he’s got mighty good ears,” said the downright Captain Gaunt. “For he’s away somewhere in the hills with the redskins. And stole some of my best horses when he went.” For a moment Dave and Joe felt that the mountains had toppled over upon them; they had counted so strongly upon the result of coming up with this particular trapping expedition that the shock of disappointment was harder to bear than it had been at any other time. Gone! And they had possibly been within a few days’ journey of him frequently; if they had known where Gaunt’s men were working they could have set out for his camp while there was still hope of success. But now that was at an end. “We’ve got it to do all over again,” said Joe in a weary sort of way, for the long anxiety had told on him.