an both caught
hold of the branches and held themselves motionless.

'Now wait till it's dark, and then thar'll be no fear of the
varmints,' added the trapper.

''Sh! I haars sumfin'!' whispered the Irishman

'What is it?' asked Ethan.

'How does I know till yees kaaps still?'

'It's the reds goin' long the banks,' said the trapper.

The words were yet in his mouth, when the voice of one Indian was
heard calling to another. Neither Mickey nor Ethan had the remotest
idea of the meaning of the words uttered, but the trapper told them
that they were inquiring of each other whether anything had been
discovered of more fugitives. The answer being in the negative, our
friends considered their present position safe.

When it was fairly dark, and nothing more was seen or heard of the
Indians, the raft was permitted to float free, and they drifted with
the current. They kept the river until daylight, when, having been in
the water so long, they concluded it best to land and rest themselves.
By the aid of their revolvers they succeeded in' kindling a fire, the
warmth of which proved exceedingly grateful to all.

They would have had a very rough time had they not encountered a party
of hunters who accompanied them to St. Louis, where the trapper had
friends, and where, also, he had a good sum of money in the bank.

Here Baldy remained all winter, before he entirely recovered from the
hurt which he received during the explosion and sinking of the
steamer. When the Irishman and Yankee were about to depart, he asked
them where they were going.

'I'm goin' home in Connecticut and goin' to work on the farm, and
that's where I'm goin' to stay. I was a fool ever to leave it for this
confounded place. I could live decent put there, and that's more than
I can do in this blamed country.'

'And I shall go back to work on the Erie railroad, at thirty-siven
cents a day and boord myself,' replied the Irishman.

'If yer were sartin of findin' all the gold yor want, would yer go
back to Califony?''

'Arrah. Now, what are yees talkin' about?' asked McSquizzle, somewhat
impatiently. 'What is the good of talkin'?'

'I didn't ax yer to fool with yer,' replied the trapper, 'thar's a place
that I know away out West, that I call Wolf Ravine, whar thar's enough
gold to make both of yer richer than yer ever war afore, and then
leave some for yer children.'

'Jerusalem! but you're a lucky dog!' exclaimed Ethan Hopkins, not
daring to hop