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Up to the time of joining with the deserters, I had consoled myself with the belief, that California was the destination of this saint and his squatter protege; though at times I was troubled with the remembrance of Su-wa-nee's words. Their truth was almost confirmed by the report of the ex-rifleman.
The letter of Lilian spoke only of a far country, where gold was dug out of the sand. California, of course. There was no allusion to the Salt Lake not one word about a migration to the metropolis of the Mormons. Su-wa-nee's speech, on the other hand, clearly alluded to this place as the goal of the squatter's journey!
The sight of so much beauty grand as unexpected was enough to unnerve one, especially in such a place and one to whose eye the female form had so long been a stranger. Su-wa-nee's I had seen only at a distance; and hers, to my sight, was no longer beautiful. I hesitated to show myself lest the sight of me should alarm this lovely apparition, and cause her to take flight.
I know'd who did it; tho' not that night for it war so dark among the bushes, I couldn't see a steim. But I kim back in the mornin', and seed tracks. They war the tracks o' a mocassin. I know'd 'em to be hern." "Su-wa-nee's tracks?" "Sartin. I know'd 'em well enough, as I'd often seed her tracks through the crik bottom." "Did you take no steps to punish her?" "Well no I didn't." "How is that?
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