nted men had overtaken
the fugitives, and the direction of their tracks proved that they had
afterwards turned back to Salt Lake City. Had they carried back both of
his companions with them? Jefferson Hope had almost persuaded himself
that they must have done so, when his eye fell upon an object which made
every nerve of his body tingle within him. A little way on one side of
the camp was a low-lying heap of reddish soil, which had assuredly
not been there before. There was no mistaking it for anything but a
newly-dug grave. As the young hunter approached it, he perceived that a
stick had been planted on it, with a sheet of paper stuck in the cleft
fork of it. The inscription upon the paper was brief, but to the point:

JOHN FERRIER,
FORMERLY OF SALT LAKE CITY, [22]
Died August 4th, 1860.

The sturdy old man, whom he had left so short a time before, was gone,
then, and this was all his epitaph. Jefferson Hope looked wildly round
to see if there was a second grave, but there was no sign of one. Lucy
had been carried back by their terrible pursuers to fulfil her original
destiny, by becoming one of the harem of the Elder's son. As the young
fellow realized the certainty of her fate, and his own powerlessness to
prevent it, he wished that he, too, was lying with the old farmer in his
last silent resting-place.

Again, however, his active spirit shook off the lethargy which springs
from despair. If there was nothing else left to him, he could at least
devote his life to revenge. With indomitable patience and perseverance,
Jefferson Hope possessed also a power of sustained vindictiveness, which
he may have learned from the Indians amongst whom he had lived. As he
stood by the desolate fire, he felt that the only one thing which could
assuage his grief would be thorough and complete retribution, brought
by his own hand upon his enemies. His strong will and untiring energy
should, he determined, be devoted to that one end. With a grim, white
face, he retraced his steps to where he had dropped the food, and having
stirred up the smouldering fire, he cooked enough to last him for a
few days. This he made up into a bundle, and, tired as he was, he
set himself to walk back through the mountains upon the track of the
avenging angels.

For five days he toiled footsore and weary through the defiles which he
had already traversed on horseback. At night he flung himself d