Though our hunters had not given the matter a thought, the camp had been pitched in a truly lovely and picturesque spot. At this point two goodly-sized timber-islands extended an arm toward each other, almost meeting. In fact, though the tree-trunks were separated by several yards, their long branches fairly touched, interweaved together, forming a gayly-tinted arch, the frost-touched leaves vying in brilliancy with the colors of the rainbow. Through and beyond this natural bower, the prairie stretched far away in gently-undulating swells, studded at irregular intervals with timber _mottes_, something similar to those beside which we find our friends. Close to these twin _mottes_ was a clear stream of water, a confluent of the Trinity River. As already incidentally mentioned, the party consisted of half a score of hunters, all young—the eldest scarcely numbering thirty years, while one or two were a third less than that. They were such men as can only be found apart from the great cities, nurtured in the broad West, their limbs and lungs fully developed by the clear, pure atmosphere of the prairies. They would have been out of place in a ladies’ drawing-room, because they were at home here. Their hair was worn long; scarcely one of their faces had ever known the touch of a razor, giving their beards a glossy silkiness seldom seen, that even the scorching sun or crinkling winds of winter could not destroy. “What do you mean by that, Fred?” quickly added the first speaker, Edward Campbell—a tall, stalwart youth, who, despite his few years, had already gained a widely-known reputation from more than one desperate combat with the savages and wild beasts. “Just what I say, Ned,” and Fred Hawksley spoke in a serious tone. “I _know_ there is such a being, because I have seen her—yes, and spoken to her, too.” A general movement followed this announcement, and it was plain that the subject under discussion possessed no little interest to the hunters. Still, despite Hawksley’s earnestness, they seemed to doubt. “You have never mentioned this before, Fred. Are you sure there is no mistake?” “Am I a fool, Ned Campbell?” retorted the young man, coolly. “I tell you that I saw her, only three days ago, not two miles from this very spot. And I spoke to her, too, as I told you before.” “That’s why you were so urgent for us to encamp here, was it?” laughed Ned. “But never mind—tell us all about it now?” “Yes—who is she? What did she look like? Did she answer you?” eagerly cried several of the little band. “Well, I’ll tell you all I know about it, provided you promise not to make fun of me.” “You’re not at another of your sells, are you, Fred? Honest Injun, now.” “No, Ned, I mean just what I say.” “That’s enough. Go on. When you talk like that, we know you’re not fooling.”