providence were now
acting in my favour. This absence of her captors; and, besides, my band
has been most opportunely strengthened by the arrival of a number of
trappers from the eastern plains. The beaver-skins have fallen,
according to their phraseology, to a `plew a plug,' and they find
`red-skin' pays better. Ah! I hope this will soon be over."

And he sighed deeply as he uttered the last words.

We were now at the entrance of the gorge, and a shady clump of
cotton-woods invited us to rest.

"Let us noon here," said Seguin.

We dismounted, and ran our animals out on their trail-ropes to feed.
Then seating ourselves on the soft grass, we drew forth the viands that
had been prepared for our journey.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

GEOGRAPHY AND GEOLOGY.

We rested above an hour in the cool shade, while our horses refreshed
themselves on the "grama" that grew luxuriantly around. We conversed
about the singular region in which we were travelling; singular in its
geography, its geology, its botany, and its history; singular in all
respects.

I am a traveller, as I might say, by profession. I felt an interest in
learning something of the wild countries that stretched for hundreds of
miles around us; and I knew there was no man living so capable of being
my informant as he with whom I then conversed.

My journey down the river had made me but little acquainted with its
features. At that time, as I have already related, there was fever upon
me; and my memory of objects was as though I had encountered them in
some distorted dream.

My brain was now clear; and the scenes through which we were passing--
here soft and south-like, there wild, barren, and picturesque--forcibly
impressed my imagination.

The knowledge, too, that parts of this region had once been inhabited by
the followers of Cortez, as many a ruin testified; that it had been
surrendered back to its ancient and savage lords, and the inference that
this surrender had been brought about by the enactment of many a tragic
scene, induced a train of romantic thought, which yearned for
gratification in an acquaintance with the realities that gave rise to
it.

Seguin was communicative. His spirits were high. His hopes were
buoyant. The prospect of again embracing his long-lost child imbued
him, as it were, with new life. He had not, he said, felt so happy for
many years.

"It is true," said he, in answer to a question I had put, "there is
little know