t's fetched beaver down to a plew a plug;
while only ten years ago, we could get six _pesos_ the skin! Only think
of that! _Carrai-i-i_!" Pronouncing this last exclamation with bitter
aspirate, the incensed trapper gave the unfortunate hat one more blow
with his timber leg; and then, spurning the battered tile from his toe,
hobbled back to his horse! Sure-shot was disposed to be angry, but a
word set all right. I perfectly comprehended the nature of the
trapper's antipathy to silk hats, and explained it to my comrade. In
their eyes, the absurd head-gear is more hideous than even to those who
are condemned to wear it--for the trappers well know, that the
introduction of the silk hat has been the ruin of their peculiar
calling.

"'Twan't much o' a hat, after all," said Sure-shot, reconciled by the
explanation. "It b'longed to the sutler at the Fort: for yee see,
capting, as we left theere for a leetle bit o' a hurry, I couldn't lay
my claws on my own ole forage-cap; so I took the hat in its place? an'
thet's how I kim by the thing. But heer's a hat perhaps, mister, this
heer'll pleeze ye better? Will it, eh?"

As Sure-shot put the question, he took up the plumed bonnet of an
Arapaho warrior--which had been left lying among the rocks--and,
adjusting the gaudy circlet upon his head, strode backward and forward
over the ground with all the swelling majesty of an Indian dandy! The
odd-looking individual and his actions caused the laughter of the
bystanders to break forth in loud peals. The Mexican fairly screamed,
interlarding his cachinnations with loud "santissimas," and other
Spanish exclamations; while even the wounded man under the waggon was
unable to restrain himself at the mirth-provoking spectacle.

CHAPTER EIGHTY.

SPIRITUAL WIVES.

I joined not in the merriment of my companions. I took no share in
their mirth. The trapper's story had intensified the anguish of my
thoughts; and now, that I found time to dwell upon its purport, my
reflections were bitter beyond expression. I could have no doubt as to
who was the heroine of that strange history. She who had been so
shamefully deceived--she who had so nobly risked her life to save her
honour--she the wild huntress, by the Utahs called _Ma-ra-nee_--could be
no other than that _Marian_, of whom I had heard so much--Marian Holt!

The circumstances detailed by the trapper were perfectly conformable to
this belief--they concurred in establishing it