94 THE WILDERNESS HUNTER. 



called it. It stood in a loose grove of elms 

 and box-alders ; from the branches of the 

 nearest trees hung saddles of frozen venison. 

 The smoke rising- from the funnel-shaped top 

 of the tepee showed that there was more fire 

 than usual within ; it is easy to keep a good 

 tepee warm, though it is so smoky that no one 

 therein can stand upright. As I drew rein 

 the skin door was pushed aside, and the hard 

 old face and dried, battered body of the hunter 

 appeared. He greeted me with a surly nod, 

 and a brief request to "light and hev some- 

 thin' to eat " — the invariable proffer of hospi- 

 tality on the plains. He wore a greasy buck- 

 shin shirt or tunic, and an odd cap of badger 

 skin, from beneath which strayed his tangled 

 hair; age, rheumatism, and the many ac- 

 cidents and incredible fatigue, hardship, and 

 exposure of his past life had crippled him, 

 yet he still possessed great power of endur- 

 ance, and in his seamed weather-scarred face 

 his eyes burned fierce and piercing as a 

 hawk's. Ever since early manhood he had 

 wandered over the plains, hunting and trap- 

 ping ; he had waged savage private war 

 against half the Indian tribes of the north; 

 and he had wedded wives in each of the tribes 

 of the other half. A few years before this 

 time the great buffalo herds had vanished, 

 and the once swarming beaver had shared the 

 same fate; the innumerable horses and horned 

 stock of the cattlemen, and the daring rough 

 riders of the ranches, had supplanted alike 

 the game and the red and white wanderers 

 who had followed it with such fierce rivalry. 

 When the change took place the old fellow^ 



