He had learned her true name—the name of her father—the fact that she had no mother living, and the name of the chief in whose charge she had been placed, and that a few years ago would have been sufficient for him to have learned all, for he knew her earliest protector, Maquesa, the Blackfoot, very well, and had encountered him more than once, without suspecting that he ever had any thing to do with the little waif, which was taken from a lodge far up in the country. “Now, Uncle Ruff,” said Harry, after he had completed the narration, “I have told you every thing I know, and I have come to you for help. How do you feel about it?” The old, hairy-faced bear-tamer stretched out his broad, horny palm and grasped that of the lad with a warm and almost crushing grip. “I liked you the fust time I seen you, and you’ve come to me in such a squar’ fashion that I like you more than ever—so give us your hand on it. “Heaven only knows what has become of Little Rifle—I don’t; but we do know that she is somewhar above ground, and you and me are going to diskiver her—so give us your hand on it. “I’ve been puzzling my head fur the last six months to try and lay out some course to take with that little pet of mine but it was mighty hard to fix on any thing. As I see’d her growing up without civilized ways, I felt I warn’t doing right, but I kept putting things off, ’cause I didn’t know what I orter to do. Of course it war my place to take her into the settlements somewhar and give her a fair start: _that_ I could see plain enough, but the trouble war that I hadn’t any of the sort of acquaintances that I wanted to put her among. You can see she’s purty, and she’s getting purtier every week, and the fear that haunted me was that if I took her down to Fr’isco or Sacramento, or some of them other places, she might be ruined, and I’d rather keep her here till she died, than to feel that I’d had any thing to do in bringing about that sort of business. “But the plan that you’ve got up, in that smart head of yours, is jist the thing, and Providence put it there! Nothin’ on airth could have pleased me more; if the little pet war only here I’d give a war-whoop and dance. We’re going to set out to find her, and we’re going to find her, and when she’s found she’s going East with you and your father, and when you both get old enough she’s going to be your wife, and I’m going to be your grandmother—no your grandaddy I mean—so give us your hand on it ag’in!” CHAPTER II. DOUBT AND PERPLEXITY. Thus the compact was sealed, and Harry Northend already felt a renewal of hope at this hearty manifestation of confidence in him by the man who was to be the all-important auxiliary in the work of searching out his lost bride of the wilderness.