"Six months ago, I left her--deceived by a villain, I left her. Six years it has seemed! Oh! I cannot endure this savage life. They honour me--they give me all the hospitality in their power--but I am not happy. Stranger, say you will relieve me from this terrible existence? Say you will take me with you?" "I freely promise it, if it be your desire. But what of these? Will they--will _he_ consent?" "Who?" "Wa-ka-ra." "Yes--yes! He has said I may go, whenever an opportunity should offer. Brave chief! he has nobly kept his word to him who is now no more." "To whom?" "To him who saved my life--to him who saved me--Ah! see, the chief approaches! the war-song is ended. At another time, I shall tell you all; but not now. We must haste, or the warriors will be gone." "Surely _you_ do not intend to accompany us?" "The women follow at a distance, to take care of the wounded. I go with them." The voice of Wa-ka-ra, calling to me to join him and his warriors, put an end to a dialogue, that had done but little to illustrate the story of the strange personage by my side. If possible, I was more mystified than ever. But it was not a time to be tempted by the lure of an idle curiosity, however interesting the theme. The perilous situation of my old comrades came once more vividly before my mind. The thought recalled me to my duty; and, hurrying from the presence of that beautiful being--whom I hoped soon to behold again--I leaped upon the back of my horse; and joined the Utah warriors, as they swept in full gallop from out the lines of their encampment. CHAPTER SEVENTY FIVE. EFFECTING THE SURROUND. The ride was rough and rapid. Notwithstanding the superiority of my steed, it was as much as I could do to keep pace with my new allies-- whose horses, used to all sorts of ground, went gliding along the uneven paths, as if they had been graded roads. Through tangled bushes they scrambled without stay, over sharp and slippery rocks--their unshod hoofs rendering them sure-footed as mountain sheep. Down the gorge lay our route; and paths, over which I had almost feared to walk my horse, were now passed in a quick continuous gallop. We soon reached the scene of my encounter with the huntress. The dog still kept sentry over the game. Couchant by the body of the bighorn, he only growled as the cavalcade swept past. No one stopped to relieve him, of his charge. On a war expedition the chase is universally neglected. Even its spoils are spurned. Hunger is supposed to beget prowess, as it sharpens the wits; and the savage fights best upon an empty stomach.