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a red calico dress and some ribbons tied up in a handkerchief in one hand, and a pair of moccasins in the other.

The Doctor was anxious to get away more anxious, perhaps, than any one. For what had the camp been to him? If I could have had my way or say, I would have left this mysterious, sad-faced, silent man behind.

I think the Prince would have done the same. We cannot always have our own way, even with ourselves.

Why does the man not do thus and so, we say? What is there to hinder him? Who shall say yea or nay? Is he not his own master? No. No man is his own master who has a conscience.

If this man had been of stronger will, had he not been so utterly helpless and friendless, we could have left him, and would have left him gladly ; as it was, it was not a matter of choice at all.

Ponies were scarce, and mules were high-priced and hard to get, but the Doctor was not so poor as we, and he put his money all in the Prince s hands. So we had a tolerable outfit.

A very little pony would answer for me, the commonest kind could bear Paquita and her extra dress, while Klamat could walk and make his own way through the woods, like a greyhound.

The Prince procured a great double-barrelled shot gun, throwing buck-shot by the hand- full, for him self, and pistols for all, for we were going into the heart of a host