"Now," said the general, "let us resume our route, and seek the residence of the trappers." "Oh! we shall soon be there, señor," replied the guide; "the great Canadian river is within a few paces of us, and trappers are established all along the streams which flow into it." The little party proceeded on their way again. The bee hunt had left an impression of sadness on the mind of the young lady, which, although unconscious of it, she could not overcome. Those poor little creatures, so gentle and so industrious, attacked and ruined for a caprice, grieved her, and, in spite, of herself, made her thoughtful. Her uncle perceived this disposition of her mind. "Dear child!" he said, "what is passing in your little head? You are no longer so gay as when we set out; whence comes this sudden change?" "Good heavens! uncle, do not let that disturb you; I am, like other young girls, rather wild and whimsical; this bee hunt, from which I promised myself so much pleasure, has left a degree of sadness behind it that I cannot get rid of." "Happy child!" the general murmured, "whom so futile a cause has still the power to trouble. God grant, darling, that you may continue long in that disposition, and that greater and more real troubles may never reach you!" "My kind uncle, shall I not always be happy while near you?" "Alas! my child, who knows whether God may permit me to watch over you long!" "Do not say so, uncle; I hope we have many years to pass together." The general only responded to this hope by a sigh. "Uncle," the girl resumed, after a few moments, "do you not find that the aspect of the grand and sublime nature which surrounds us has something striking in it that ennobles our ideas, elevates the soul, and renders man better? How happy must they be who live in these boundless deserts!" The general looked at her with astonishment. "Whence come these thoughts to your mind, dear child?" he said. "I do not know, uncle," she replied, timidly; "I am but an ignorant girl, whose life, still so short, has flowed on to this moment calm and peaceful, under your protection. And yet there are moments when it seems to me that I should be happy to live in these vast deserts." The general, surprised, and inwardly charmed at the ingenuous frankness of his niece, was preparing to answer her, when the guide, suddenly coming up to them, made a sign to command silence, by saying, in a voice as low as a breath,-- "A man!" CHAPTER XIV. BLACK ELK. Everyone stopped. In the desert, this word man almost always means an enemy. Man in the prairies is more dreaded by his fellow than the most ferocious wild beast. A man is a rival, a forced associate, who, by the right of being the stronger, comes to share with the first occupant, and often, if we may not say always, strives to deprive him of the fruits of his thankless labour.