It could only have been seen from a particular point above, where no one was likely to be straying. On all other sides it was concealed by the thick foliage of the trees, through which its smoke, scattering as it passed upward, became dissipated into thin haze before reaching the crest of the cliffs.
By this fire, far remote from the hearths of civilisation, two men were seated, bearing but slight resemblance to each other. One was characteristic of the scene; his costume and accoutrements, in short, his tout-ensemble, proclaiming him unmistakeably a trapper. Hunting-shirt of dressed deer-hide, fringed at cape and skirt, leggings of like material, moccasins soled with parflêche (Note 5) and on his head, a felt hat with crown and brim showing long service. His hair, close cropped, gave little framing to his face, that was naturally dark in colour, but darker with dirt, sun-tan, and wrinkles. It looked the face of a man who had seen nearly sixty summers, and quite as many winters.
His companion was not over half his age, nor in any way like the man we have taken for a trapper, although garbed in the costume common to “mountain men” (the Rocky Mountain trappers so style themselves). He wore the hunting-shirt, leggings, and moccasins; but all were tastefully cut and elaborately embroidered.
It might have been the difference between youth and age; and both may have been trappers alike. Still there was something about the younger man—a delicacy of feature and refinement of manner—very different from those who take to this rude adventurous calling.
A thought of the kind seemed to have come uppermost in the mind of his older companion, as they sate by their camp-fire just kindled. It still wanted half an hour of sunrise; and they had issued out of their skin lodge, standing close by, to cook their morning meal. It was preparatory to starting out on a tour of inspection to their traps, set overnight in the streams near at hand. A large flitch of buffalo-meat, comprising several hump-ribs, was roasting in the blaze; and they were waiting till it should be sufficiently done.
It was the elder who spoke first; at least upon a subject foreign to the preparation of their repast.
“Durn it, Ned!” said he, “I hev been dreemin’ ’bout ye last night.”
“Indeed! I hope that nothing promises bad luck. Bah! why should I think of luck, one way or the other? For me there can be none in the future worse than I’ve had in the past. What was your dream, ’Lije?”
“Oh! nutin’ much. I only thort I seed ye alongside o’ a gurl; an’ she war a pullin’ at ye to get ye away from the mountings. She war tryin’ to toat you along wi’ her.”
“She didn’t succeed, I suppose?”