began to relax and beam with joy, and he laughed again almost as in his happiest days.

They would both have started off at once if the heavy rain, which often falls there in the middle of April, had not set in, and compelled them to remain in St. Louis.

The time was spent in talking over all that Jack Williams had on his heart. Everything in St. Louis had fallen into its accustomed quiet again. There were no red men to be seen walking about. The fur merchants and trappers were once more scattered all over the country; the hunters had gone in quest of spoil for the next season's trade, the merchants had returned to their homes or to other cities by river or rail. Even in the tavern quietness prevailed, so that Jack and his young friend had little to disturb them.

Ralph often related the particulars of his father's illness, and the old man was never weary of hearing of the love and attachment to him which his old companion had expressed.

One day the old man talked over the plan which he had made for the next season's hunting.

"We begin our work," said he, "in the neighbourhood of the middle branch of the Kansas river. It is a dangerous quarter, for it is inhabited by the Blackfoot Indians, one of the worst tribes, whose enmity to the white man is only equalled by their cunning and slyness. They hunt the buffaloes, which abound in countless herds on the prairies, and

bone. There I lay, the sure prey of the monster. Your father was far away, watching the beaver traps; so I commended my soul to God, and thought my life was gone. I had presence of mind enough left to draw my knife and attempt to defend myself; but it was too much for me, and my arm sank helpless by my side. Suddenly I heard a sharp crack; the bear lifted up one paw, and then fell over as dead as a stone. It was your father, who, having seen the track of the bear, had followed it, and shot the beast right through the brain.

"I was saved! but my shoulder gave me dreadful pain. Your father understood something of doctoring, and I put more faith in him than in those who write Dr. before their names, and mend every bone crooked. He bound up the joint, and dressed it with the fat of the bear. For six weeks he divided all his time between me and the beaver traps, cooking all my food, and caring for me like a mother, till I was better.

"That is one story, Ralph, but I could tell you a hundred more of his true friendship, which you don't know. And Tom is dead! the soul of my soul, the heart of my heart! Tom dead! Why should I live? Tom, the best hunter, the cleverest beaver trapper, the boldest fighter with the Indians, the truest and most self-sacrificing friend! Tom, my brother! why have you left me alone?" And his face sank again into his hands, as he groaned aloud.

"You are not alone, Father Williams," said

the end of all human and earthly things, and we ought not to scare away these thoughts from our minds. It's no good making useless speeches on the subject: if it's the Lord's will that I should die, you shall be my heir. I've got no one belonging to me, so that I can do what I please with what I have, without harming any one. But you would like to know what I've got? Well, I've always tried to save a little for sickness and old age. Now pay attention to me, that you may be able to find it when I am dead. If you go in a straight line south from your farm, you will come to a hill where there is a large hickory tree; look carefully at the trunk of the tree, and you will see a small hole on the north side. If you dig carefully under the grass, exactly two feet from the tree, you will find all my savings. Now, don't forget this."

Ralph was going to speak, but Jack Williams interrupted him by turning round to the window.

"The clouds have broken through," he exclaimed gladly, "and the wind has gone round to the east: we shall have fine warm weather. Come, now, we must pack and be off.

He rose, and Ralph with him, and they were soon busily occupied putting all their things into two bundles, so that their horses might carry them easily. They went on foot themselves, and struck off in the direction of' the upper Kansas, from which they intended to go to their hunting-ground by canoe.

No sooner was the journey fairly begun, than Jack Williams's whole manner changed. He was active and lively; all his sad thoughts seemed to have remained behind in St. Louis. But Ralph, who observed him closely, often heard him sigh, and when he was alone he sometimes very sad; but as they got nearer to the scene of action his trouble disappeared, owing to the numerous things which required his attention.

CHAPTER II.

THE TRAPPERS ON THE KANSAS RIVER.

ONE

NE day, a good while after the events recorded in the previous chapter, a canoe might have been seen gliding noiselessly down the river Kansas, then swollen by floods. Canoes, as my readers are probably aware, are the vessels used by the Indians who live on the banks of the large rivers. They are very skilfully made from birch bark, joined together with great care, and are at the same time light and durable. This canoe was heavily laden, and was steered with an oar by an old man who sat at the stern, while in the forward part a fresh-coloured youth sat with his back to the stem, rowing with two long oars so softly that scarcely the least sound could be heard.

The little vessel shot along very fast past the grey limestone banks, which rose in steep massive walls on either side, crowned by splendid maple and walnut trees, interspersed with birches and oaks. Occasionally these rocky walls rose so high that the light of day could scarcely penetrate the deep chasm.

The man at the helm had to keep a sharp look-out to keep the boat out of danger, in