ut in the few hours of practical liberty which intervened, I had the
good fortune to meet my fellow-countryman, James Pursley. He proved to
be one of our typical gaunt, long-legged Kentuckians, with a bearded
face as resolute and formidable as that of our fighting sergeant Meek.
Still better proof of his daring character lay in the fact that he had
been wandering on the prairies for two years or more before he fell in
with the great company of Comanches and Kyoways whose encampment we had
found on the headwaters of the Platte, and with whom he had come south
to the vicinity of the Spanish settlements. Venturing into Santa Fe, he
had been fairly well received by the Spanish, and though forbidden to
leave certain bounds, was otherwise free, and doing quite well as a
carpenter.

As my attendant corporal knew nothing else than Spanish, Pursley and I
were able to talk with the utmost freedom. When, in the midst of the
account of his truly remarkable adventures, he told how he had found
gold on the upper reaches of the Platte, westerly of the Grand Peak, and
how he had refused to divulge the place to the Spaniards because it
might lie within the bounds of Louisiana Territory, I became so
convinced of his stanch loyalty and patriotism that I confided in him
the circumstances of our party.

He was immensely interested, but shook his head over my suggestion that
he should attempt to join the expedition. He did not see how this could
be of any benefit either to the party or to himself, especially, he
explained, as Allencaster had already sent out well-mounted spies to
find and report on the party of hunters with whom I claimed
companionship. He, Pursley, could not hope to overtake these expert
horsemen; while, on the other hand, if caught trying to escape, he would
surely be jailed in the terrible _calabozo_.

In the midst of our argument of the question, I was summoned into the
presence of the Governor. He met me with a frown, and showed how closely
I had been watched by peremptorily ordering me to hold no further
communication with Pursley. My attempt at a French shrug flung him into
a passion, in which he decreed my exile to San Fernandez, a tiny village
four days south of Santa Fe, there to remain in the charge of Lieutenant
Malgares until word should come from Chihuahua.

Finding His Excellency thus once more harshly disposed, I was not
altogether reluctant at being banished, more especially as my exile was
in the direct