But he had important matters in hand for the time, and he gave his whole thought to them. Every one was working with the energy of people who were convinced that their lives depended upon the result. The teams were harnessed, the wagons loaded up, and at the end of half an hour the whole train moved out of the grove, toward the west. Before starting, men had ridden out on the prairie in every direction, and returned with the announcement that nothing could be heard of the Blackfeet, and all pressed forward with the greatest vigor and determination. With the passing of the immediate danger, the thoughts of the strange woman who had befriended them returned to Fred Hammond. He felt a powerful interest in her, and, as he was riding beside the guide of the company, he turned to him rather abruptly, and asked: “Have you ever heard of Lamora?” “Heard of her?” repeated the latter, in surprise; “wasn’t I telling you all about her the other day?” “So you were; I was sure I had heard her name before, but I could not recollect from whom. Who is she?” “She is a white girl, living with a tribe of Indians, somewhere up north of us, and she has done many such things as this for the white people crossing the plains. I have heard of her for years as doing the same thing.” “What kind of a looking person is she?” “Just the handsomest creature that ever lived! Wait till you get a good look at her.” Hammond was not long in finding that their guide knew very little more regarding her than he had already told, although he gossiped and chatted about her until daylight. When light at last broke over the prairie, many eyes were cast anxiously backward, but not a sign of the Indians was visible. The warning of Lamora had saved them! Fred Hammond could not drive the thoughts of this beautiful being from his mind, and finally he determined that, as he had joined the company for the sake of adventure, he would turn back and seek adventures of the most romantic kind. So, on the afternoon of this day, he quietly withdrew from the company, and started at an easy gallop in the direction that the guide had indicated led toward the home of the mysterious and beautiful Lamora; and, leaving our hero for a time to himself, we must now bestow our attention upon others, who have a part to play in this narrative. _Love_, the passion of our nature, will play the mischief with all of us, and Fred Hammond was soon off on this great “love-chase” of his life. CHAPTER II. WHAT IS IT? Black Tom and old Stebbins had a hard day’s ride of it, and they drew the rein in a heavily-timbered grove, just as the sun was setting, with the intention of camping there for the night. They were well up toward the Black Hills, in a country broken with forest, hill and prairie, and interspersed with streams of every size, from the rivulet and foaming cañon to the broad, serenely-flowing river.