The Rival Trappers: or, Old Pegs, The Mountaineer

BY LEWIS W. CARSON.
NEW YORK: BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS, 98 WILLIAM STREET.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by FRANK STARR & CO., In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
Hush! Is that a footstep coming up the canon? It came nearer and nearer, and a man of strange appearance suddenly stepped into view, rounding a bend in the canon. At the first glance it seemed that he was a dwarf in stature, but as he advanced, it was plainly to be seen that this was a mistake, for those broad shoulders and herculean arms never belonged to a dwarf. In hight he would scarcely have reached five feet, but his girth of shoulder and hip was something wonderful. In short, he had the body of a giant, set upon a pair of legs so crooked and misshapen that it seemed as if he had borrowed those limbs from some one else.
He came on with a peculiar, sidelong, hitching gait, swinging out his left leg and throwing forward the shoulder upon that side in an irresistibly ludicrous way, but getting over the ground at a very fair pace.
His dress was that of the mountainman, of greasy buck-skin, yet showing the careful hand of woman in the manner in which it was made. He wore fringed leggins, moccasins of ponderous size, and a high bear-skin cap, which added considerably to his ludicrous “make-up.” His weapons were a carefully-polished rifle, a pair of splendid revolvers, a knife and a hatchet.
His face was broad, ruddy and good-natured, fringed by a russet-brown hair and beard, slightly sprinkled with gray. A single look at the high forehead, merry brown eyes and smiling mouth, about which a whimsical look would linger in spite of himself, showed that he was a merry, reckless soul, but a man of undaunted courage.
“Hyar we come and hyar we go, pegging along the canon,” he half-sung. “Thar was some mistake in my make-up, I reckon, or I’d be a different man. But who keers, ez long ez I am happy ez a buck Digger in grasshopper time? Oh, Lordy, yes.”