After they were set Uncle Kit asked me if I thought I could find
all of them again, and I said I thought I could.

"All right then," he said. "It will be your job to tend these
traps, until Jim and me get the balance of the stuff packed up
from the cache. Now le's go and see your Injuns."

I took them to where I had shot the two Indians, and Uncle Kit, as
soon as he saw them, said:

"They are Utes, and the wust hoss-thieves on the waters of the
Colorado. Willie, I'm dog-goned glad you killed 'em. I would a
give the best hoss I've got to a been here with you, for I think
Old Black Leg would a caught the other feller, afore he got to the
top o' the mountain."

"Black Leg" was Uncle Kit's pet name for his rifle.

That night, before going to bed, Uncle Kit said we must be up
early next morning, as he and Hughes would have to make another
trip to the cache, and that I must tend to the traps and keep a
sharp lookout for Indians "But whatever happens," he said, "don't
ever be taken prisoner."

They started very early the next morning, and as soon as it was
light I struck out to examine the traps. From the twelve I took
nine beaver, skinned them, reset the traps, returned to the dug-
out and stretched the skins.

The stretching is done by making a bow of a small willow or other