even his own father, a white man, the wretch who begot him and abandoned
him,--HE had an Indian name--Loup Noir."

"What name did you say?"

"Le Loup Noir, the Black Wolf. I suppose you'd call him an Indian, too?
Eh! What's the matter? We're walking too fast. Stop a moment and rest.
There--there, lean on me!"

She was none too soon; for, after holding him upright a moment, his
limbs failed, and stooping gently she was obliged to support him half
reclining against a tree.

"Its the heat!" he said. "Give me some whisky from my flask. Never mind
the water," he added faintly, with a forced laugh, after he had taken a
draught at the strong spirit. "Tell me more about the other water--the
Sleeping Water--you know. How do you know all this about him and
his--father?"

"Partly from him and partly from Curson, who wrote to me about him," she
answered with some hesitation.

But Dunn did not seem to notice this incongruity of correspondence with
a former lover. "And HE told you?"

"Yes; and I saw the name on an old memorandum book he has, which he says
belonged to his father. It's full of old accounts of some trading post
on the frontier. It's been missing for a day or two, but it will turn
up. But I can swear I saw it."