anger to the country here, like yourself. But
you're on the east side o' the mountains already, if I mistake not;
only these mountains are so rugged and jumbled up, that it's not easy
tellin' where ye are. And what," continued Dick, "may be the name o'
the bourgeois who speaks to me?"

"My name is Cameron--Walter Cameron--a well-known name among the
Scottish hills, although it sounds a little strange here. And now,
young man, will you join my party as guide, and afterwards remain as
trapper? It will pay you better, I think, than roving about alone."

Dick shook his head and looked grave. "I'll guide you," said he, "as
far as my knowledge 'll help me; but after that I must return to look
for two comrades whom I have lost. They have been driven into the
mountains by a band of Injuns. God grant they may not have bin
scalped!"

The trader's face looked troubled, and he spoke with one of his
Indians for a few minutes in earnest, hurried tones.

"What were they like, young man?"

Dick described them.

"The same," continued the trader. "They've been seen, lad, not more
than two days ago, by this Indian here, when he was out hunting alone
some miles away from our camp. He came suddenly on a band of Indians
who had two prisoners with them, such as you describe. They were
stout, said you?"

"Yes, both of them," cried Dick, listening with intense eagerness.

"Ay. They were tied to their horses, an' from what I know of these
fellows I'm sure they're doomed. But I'll help you, my friend, as well
as I can. They can't be far from this. I treated my Indian's story
about them as a mere fabrication, for he's the most notorious liar in
my company; but he seems to have spoken truth for once."

"Thanks, thanks, good sir," cried Dick. "Had we not best turn back and
follow them at once?"

"Nay, friend, not quite so fast," replied Cameron, pointing to his
people. "These must be provided for first, but I shall be ready before
the sun goes down. And now, as I presume you don't bivouac in the
snow, will you kindly conduct us to your encampment, if it be not far
hence?"

Although burning with impatience to fly to the rescue of his friends,
Dick felt constrained to comply with so reasonable a request, so
he led the way to his camping-place, where the band of fur-traders
immediately began to pitch their tents, cut down wood, kindle fires,
fill their kettles with water, cook their food, and, in fact, make
themselves comfortable. The wi