80 IN THE OLD WEST 



trappers could not refrain from glancing, every 

 now and then, with no little astonishment, at the 

 solitary stranger they had so unexpectedly en- 

 countered. If truth be told, his appearance not 

 a little perplexed them. His hunting-frock of 

 buckskin, shining with grease, and fringed panta- 

 loons, over which the well-greased butcher-knife 

 had evidently been often wiped after cutting his 

 food or butchering the carcass of deer and buffalo, 

 were of genuine mountain-make. His face, clean 

 shaved, exhibited, in its well-tanned and weather- 

 beaten complexion, the effects of such natural cos- 

 metics as sun and wind; and under the mountain- 

 hat of felt which covered his head, long uncut hair 

 hung in Indian fashion on his shoulders. All this 

 would have passed muster, had it not been for the 

 most extraordinary equipment of a double-bar- 

 reled rifle, which, when it had attracted the eyes 

 of the mountaineers, elicited no little astonish- 

 ment, not to say derision. But perhaps nothing 

 excited their admiration so much as the perfect 

 docility of the stranger's animals, which, almost 

 like dogs, obeyed his voice and call; and albeit 

 that one, in a small sharp head and pointed ears, 

 expanded nostrils, and eye twinkling and mali- 

 cious, exhibited the personification of a lurking 

 devil, yet they could not but admire the perfect 

 ease with which even this one, in common with 

 the rest, permitted herself to be handled. 



Dismounting, and unhitching from the horn of 



