LIFE IN THE FAR WEST. 191 



up:" sundry couples stood forth, and the ball com- 

 menced. 



Ezra of the violin was a tall shambling Missourian, with 

 a pair of " homespun " pantaloons thrust into the legs of 

 his heavy boots. Nodding his head in time with the music, 

 he occasionally gave instructions to such of the dancers as 

 were at fault, singing them to the tune he was playing, in 

 a dismal nasal tone, 



. " Down the centre hands across, 

 You Jake Herring thump it, 

 Now, you all go right ahead 

 Every one of you hump it. 



Every one of you hump it" 



The last words being the signal that all should clap the 

 steam on, which they did con amore, and with comical 

 seriousness. 



A mountaineer, Rube Herring, whom we have more than 

 once met in the course of this narrative, became a convert 

 to the Mormon creed, and held forth its wonderful doc- 

 trines to such of the incredulous trappers as he could 

 induce to listen to him. Old Rube stood nearly six feet 

 six in height, and was spare and bony in make. He had 

 picked up a most extraordinary cloth coat amongst the 

 Mormons, which had belonged to some one his equal in 

 stature. This coat, which was of a snuff -brown colour, 

 had its waist about a hand's span from the nape of Rube's 

 neck, or about a yard above its proper position, and the 

 skirts reached to his ankles. A slouching felt-hat covered 

 his head, from which long black hair escaped, hanging in 

 flakes over his lantern jaws. His pantaloons of buckskin 

 were shrunk with wet, and reached midway between his 

 knees and ankles, and his huge feet were encased in mo- 

 cassins of buffalo-cow skin. 



Rube was never without the book of Mormon in his 

 hand, and his sonorous voice might be heard, at all hours 

 of the day and night, reading passages from its wonderful 

 pages. He stood the badgering of the hunters with most 

 perfect good-humour, and said there never was such a book 



