In the Rocky Mountains. William Henry Giles Kingston

haul him out, and both have been carried away together. Ill luck to Roaring Water, if it has swallowed up my countryman Barney.”

      I suspected, from the way in which Dan spoke, that he had no great belief that such a catastrophe had occurred; in fact, knowing the fellow pretty well, I thought it very probable that, notwithstanding what he said, he was cognisant of the whereabouts of the truants.

      Uncle Jeff and the lieutenant examined and cross-examined all the men; but no satisfactory information could be got out of them.

      “Whether they come back or not, I must be on my way to-morrow morning with Sperry; while I leave my sergeant under your care, if you will take charge of him,” said the lieutenant.

      Uncle Jeff willingly undertook to do this.

      “As you are unacquainted with the way, and Pat is not likely to be of much assistance, if Uncle Jeff will allow me I will act as your guide to the mouth of the pass, after which you will have no great difficulty in finding your way to Fort Harwood,” I said to the lieutenant.

      He gladly accepted my offer.

      “But what about the possibility of the farm being attacked by the Indians? You would not like in that case to be absent, and I should be unwilling to deprive your friends of your aid,” he observed. “If you accompany me, I must leave Sperry to attend on Sergeant Custis, and to come on with him when he is well enough. Although I do not compare the Irishman to you, yet, should the farm be attacked, I can answer for his firing away as long as he has a bullet left in his pouch.”

      Uncle Jeff, much to my satisfaction, allowed me to accompany the lieutenant. I had a good horse, too, and had no fears about making my way back safely, even should the country be swarming with Indians.

      When the lieutenant spoke of the possibility of the farm being attacked by the Redskins, Uncle Jeff laughed. “They will not venture thus far,” he observed. “But even if they do come, we will give a good account of them. Not to speak of my rifle, Bartle’s and Gideon’s are each worth fifty muskets in the hands of the Indians; our other four fellows, with your trooper, will keep the rest at bay, however many there may be of them. The sergeant, too, will be able to handle a rifle before long, I hope; while Clarice and Rachel will load the arms, and look after any of us who may be hurt. But we need not talk about that; the varmints will not trouble us, you may depend upon it.”

      When Bartle Won heard of the disappearance of the troopers, and that we had examined our men, but had been unable to elicit any information from them as to what had become of the truants, he observed—“Leave that to me. If they know anything about the matter, I will get it out of them before long. As to the fellows having tumbled into the torrent, I do not believe it. They are not likely to have gone off without our people knowing something about it. They are either in hiding somewhere near Roaring Water—and if so, I shall soon ferret them out—or else they have gone away to take squaws from among the Indians, and set up for themselves.”

      The lieutenant did not think that the latter proceeding was very probable; but their absence was mysterious, and we had to confess that we were no wiser as to their whereabouts than we were at first.