ried!

"Now, Reuben dear," whispered Loo, as she pressed his lips, "lie down
again and go to sleep."

"On one condition only," said the wounded man, with something like a
twinkle in his eye, "that you go on with the wedding feast. Jacob says
a wedding is worth nothing without a dance. Now, as this wedding is
worth all the world to me, Loo, I'm determined that it shall be worth
something to my old friend and comrade."

It was found that remonstrances were in vain, so, as resistance to his
wishes might have proved hurtful to the invalid, the wedding feast was
continued and carried through with far more vigour than might have been
expected, Reuben himself being, apparently, one of the most interested
spectators.

So Jacob had his dance, and he performed his part with unwonted
energy,--for the sake of pleasing his friend rather than himself.

When the lights were waxing low, and the great pie had been eaten, and
old Fiddlestrings had been used up, Reuben called his friend to his
side.

"What with searchin'," he said, "an' fightin', and fire-stoppin' an'
dancin' you've had a pretty stiff time of it, Jacob. But you're a
strong man--leastwise you used to be--an' I daresay there's plenty of go
in you yet."

"I'm fresh as a lark, Reuben," replied his friend. "What want ye wi'
me?"

"I just want ye go fetch your horse, an' saddle my best buffalo-runner
for the parson, an' take him to Beaver Creek. Do it as fast as you can,
Jacob, and by the short cut, and don't spare the cattle."

"I'll do it, Reuben."

Jacob was a man of few words. He did it, and thus it came to pass that
when grey dawn began to break over Mac's Fort, it found the Reverend
William Tucker and his guide scouring over the western plains at the
rate of thirty or forty miles an hour--more or less--while Reuben Dale
lay sound asleep in his blood-stained wedding dress, his strong hand
clasping that of pretty little Loo, who was also sound asleep, in an
easy chair by his side.

About the same time The MacFearsome flung himself down on his
half-burned bed, where in dreams--to judge from his snorting, snoring,
and stertorous breathing--he waged war with the whole Blackfeet race
single-handed!

When the pastor bade farewell to Reuben he had done so with the sad
feelings of one who expected never to see his face again, but the
pastor's judgment was at fault. Reuben Dale lived--he lived to become
as strong and able a hunter of the Rocky Mountains as e