rested by
his side.

Tiburcio cast his eyes upon the gun, and for a moment regarded it with
some surprise. He appeared to look more particularly at the wood-work
of the stock, which was notched and carved in a somewhat fantastic
manner. Here there was a row of simple notches, and there another row
of marks resembling crosses. Then there were rows of double crosses;
and also one of triple crosses; and finally a series of stars. All
these hieroglyphics appeared to have been cut with the blade of a knife;
but their purpose was a puzzle to Tiburcio.

Bois-Rose, noticing an interrogative expression upon the face of the
young man, at once entered upon an explanation.

"These marks," said he, "are the scores I keep of the savages that have
fallen by my rifle. They themselves keep count by the number of scalps;
but this, you see, is more Christian and decent. That row of crosses
stands for Apache--there is a dozen in all. The double crosses are for
Sioux--seven of them. Those with the triple branch are Pawnees--eight
of them I have sent to the land of spirits. The stars are Crows--and
number only four, that my rifle has caused to utter their death-yell.
You see nine parallel notches?--well, these are nine Flatheads that,
thanks to me, will rob no longer in this world; and finally, those marks
of a roundish shape, which I needn't count, are so many Blackfeet, who
have gone to their happy hunting-grounds. Now," added the trapper, "I
think I can promise you a rifle that is not likely to miss fire, and the
hand of a friend that will not fail you."

And as he said this, he stretched forth his huge hand, and grasping that
of Tiburcio, pressed it frankly and firmly.

The young man accepted the offer with a profusion of thanks.

"I had a presentiment," said he, "when I saw the light of your fire,
that I should find friends around it."

"You are not deceived," warmly responded Bois-Rose; "you have found
friends;--but, pardon me when I ask you, have you no relatives or
connections with whom you could find a home?"

For a moment the colour mounted to the cheeks of Tiburcio; but after a
slight hesitation, he replied:

"Why should I not be frank with you?--I shall! Know then, brave
trappers, that surrounded as I am by enemies who seek my life; disdained
by the woman I have loved, and still love--I am alone in the world: I
have neither father, nor mother, nor any relative that I know of?"

"Your father and mother--are