CHAPTER VIII.
THE TRAIL OF DEATH.
These likelihoods confirm her flight from hence; Therefore, I pray you, stay not to discourse, But mount you presently .-- SHAKESPEARE.
The trapper, after separating from the Irishman, pursued his way through the woods with a slow tread, as if he were deliberating some matter with himself.

Occasionally he muttered and shook his head, in a manner that showed his conscience was getting the better of the debate, whatever it might be.

Finally he paused.
"Yas, sir; it's a mean piece of business in me.

'Cause I want to cotch a few beavers I must let this gal be, when she has been lost to her husband already for three months.

It's ongenerous, and _can't be done_!" he exclaimed, emphatically.