Overcome with his emotions, Sam sat down on the rock, and pressing his hand to his eyes, he cried as if his heart was breaking.

It was not for himself he grieved, nor would it be just to say that these tears were an evidence of weakness in the character of our brave young friend.

He loved the handsome Indian youth, as he might have loved a brother; but this awful loss came with the memory of his other trials, so that his emotion was a proof of his loyal heart and gentle nature.

The man or boy who is incapable of tears, it is safe to say, is also incapable of a n.o.ble feeling.

Believing that Ulna had gone down the mad river to his death, Sam, as he sat there, recalled that he owed a duty to the living.

Slinging his rifle on his back again, he retraced his steps to camp.

He found Ike, Wah Shin and the dog, all sleeping by the fire as peacefully as if they were on downy beds in the midst of civilization.

Maj leaped up barking with joy and began to fawn on his young master.

This awoke Ike and Wah Shin, the former of whom declared as usual that he had only just closed his eyes, "an' hadn't been asleep at all."

"We must make ready to start at once," said Sam. "Get the things on board and tie them securely."

"All right, sah," said Ike, and he went to work with the energy of one who had dined abundantly and slept well.

"Ulna, whele him go?" asked Wah Shin, stopping in the midst of loading the raft and looking about.

"He has gone down the river," said Sam, and his sad face told the Mongolian that something serious had happened.

"Him no gone gettee dlownded," gasped Wah Shin, and his eyes grew more oblique with alarm.

"Drownded!" cried Ike. "Why, Ulna kin swim like a whole flock of ducks in a mill pond."

"The river is very rough ahead," said Sam, "and after Ulna fell into the rapids he could not get back."

"An' whar did he go to?" asked Ike.

"Down the river."

"To de bottom?"

"I don't know."

"Golly!" exclaimed Ike, "if de ribber's as rough as dat, den we'd bettah stay whar we is."

CHAPTER XVII.-MR. WILLETT LEARNS THE NEWS.

Collins, and his partner, Brill, were at heart as tender as they were brave.

They reasoned that Mr. Willett should know the news the messenger brought back from Gold Cave Camp, yet neither felt like conveying it to the unhappy man.

"Somebody's got to tell him," said Brill, to his partner, "and as you've got the best gift of gab, Collins, I reckon you're the feller to do it."

"If it comes down whar I've got to speak my mind and tell a sneakin'

feller jest what I think of him," replied Collins, "I ain't slow, and I find I'm flush of words 'bout that time, but tellin' a man his son's dead, and that that 'ar paper he sent for to save his own life, ain't agoin to be perduced, why, that's an entirely different matter, and I'd a sight rather contract out the job to some chap as don't mind sich things."

"See har, pard, I've got an idear."

"Let's have it," said Collins, much relieved.

"I think we'd better do this kinder by slow degrees like. What do you say?"

"Why, I say, Brill, ole feller, I don't catch on to the drift of your ore bed," said Collins.

"I mean through Hank Tims."

"What about him?"

"We must get him to one side, kinder."

"And what then?"

"Why then we must up and tell him the hull story."

"I see yer pint, Brill."

"And then," continued Brill, "he can give it to Mr. Willett, and that'll kinder let us out of the sc.r.a.pe."

In token of his approval of this very excellent plan, Collins shook hands with his partner, and then Hank Tims was called outside of the dugout.

The partners were still in doubt as to which of them should tell the story, and noticing that they stood looking at each other Hank asked:

"Is there any fresh trouble up, pards?"

"Wa'al, yes, kinder," said Collins, taking upon himself the painful duties of spokesman.

"Let's have it," said Hank, stoutly. "Neither me nor Mr. Willett is skeered to hear the worst."

"Jest so," said Collins, "and so we thought we'd better give you the news and let you break it to him."

"What news?" asked Hank.

"Why the news that's come from Gold Cave Camp."

"Wa'al, let's have it."

"You know, Hank, we sent a messenger to Gold Cave Camp when we found the storm was onto us, and Mr. Willett's son hadn't showed up with that paper."