, my young reader, that we at once accepted the
proposal. Our friend McKnight, would of course remain on account of the
little Luisa; and as for the rest of us, we knew well the hardships we
should have to encounter, should we travel the great plains during
winter. We knew that in that latitude, as Rolfe had said, the winter
would be a short one; and therefore we should not lose much time by
staying until spring. The strange wild life which we should lead, had
charms for all of us, and we willingly consented to remain.

As Rolfe promised, we had many hunting adventures; and among the rest,
the _battue_ of beavers--nearly two thousand of which were trapped and
taken.

As soon as spring arrived, we made ready to set forth. Three wagons
were prepared--two of them loaded with furs and valuable castoreum. The
third carried the females--while Rolfe and his sons rode upon horseback.
The walls of the deer-park were broken down, and the aviaries thrown
open; and, after distributing plenty of food to the numerous pets, we
left them to themselves, and took our departure from the valley. We
struck northward for the old trail; and on reaching it, turned our faces
for Saint Louis--where we arrived in the month of May; and where Rolfe
soon after sold his furs for a large sum of money.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

It is now several years since that time; and during the interval, I--the
writer of this little book--living in a distant country, heard nothing
more about Rolfe or his family. A few days ago, however, I received a
letter from Rolfe himself, which gave me the gratifying intelligence
that they were all well, and in excellent spirits. Frank and Harry had
just finished their college studies, and had come out accomplished
scholars and sterling men. Mary and Luisa--Luisa was still one of the
family--had returned from school. Besides this, Rolfe's letter
contained some _very_ interesting intelligence. No less than _four_
marriages were in contemplation in his family. Harry was about to wed
the little "dark sister," Luisa. Frank had come to an understanding
with a fine young lady, the daughter of a Missouri planter; and the
fair-haired, blue-eyed, rosy-lipped Mary had enslaved a young "prairie
merchant," one of those who had spent the winter with us in the valley
oasis, and who had been very gallant to Mary all along the journey
homeward. But who were to be the fourth cou