FOREST, LAKE, AND RIVER 



the camp fire was the most extraordinary looking 

 creature I had ever seen, — a woman, but of mas- 

 culine features and coarse, beady-eyed, with closely- 

 cropped gray hair. She wore an old cowboy 

 slouch pulled well down on her head, a man's 

 long homespun overcoat of many hues and patches, 

 a skirt of potato-bagging that dropped an inch or 

 two below the overcoat but barely covering the 

 long sheepskin tops of the beef moccasins that 

 served as footwear. Slung under her left arm was 

 a single-barrelled gun of formidable but antique 

 appearance. 



I stared at her in speechless surprise. 



" I say, mister, you need n't look so scared, it 's 

 only me," said the woman. 



" And who the deuce may * only me ' be ? " I 

 asked, recovering my speech. 



"What me? Why, mister, I'm the Maid of 

 the Mountain back beyant. Me cow, bad luck to 

 her, strayed down to the river, and it was lukin' 

 for her I was whin I saw ye's two comin' down 

 the river. You '11 say to that black haythen 

 that 's with you that the Maid of the Mountain 

 wants that sthumpin' done at onct. At onct, mind 

 ye, or I '11 have Angus McTavish to do it.*' 



" But, my good woman, Charlo 's engaged with 

 me for another week," I answered. 



298 



