I'd grow as rich as old Papin, or Mackenzie either. I call this the poor man's market. When I'm hungry I have only got to take my rifle and go out and get better meat than the rich folks down below can get, with all their money. You won't catch me living in St. Louis another winter."
"No," said Reynal, "you had better say that, after you and your Spanish woman almost starved to death there. What a fool you were ever to take her to the settlements."
"Your Spanish woman?" said I; "I never heard of her before. Are you married to her?"
"No," answered Raymond, again looking intelligent; "the priests don't marry their women, and why should I marry mine?"
This honorable mention of the Mexican clergy introduced the subject of religion, and I found that my two associates, in common with other white men in the country, were as indifferent to their future welfare as men whose lives are in constant peril are apt to be. Raymond had never heard of the Pope. A certain bishop, who lived at Taos or at Santa Fé, embodied his loftiest idea of an ecclesiastical dignitary. Reynal observed that a priest had been at Fort Laramie two years ago, on his way to the Nez Percé mission, and that he had confessed all the men there and given them absolution. "I got a good clearing out myself that time," said Reynal, "and I reckon that will do for me till I go down to the settlements again."
Here he interrupted himself with an oath and exclaimed: "Look! look! The 'Panther' is running an antelope!"
The Panther, on his black-and-white horse, one of the best in the village, came at full speed over the hill in hot pursuit of an antelope, that darted away like lightning
