"Do you think it is an enemy?"
"I don't reckon it is."
Both of them continued to watch the approaching visitor, until he had come within twenty rods of the shore. He did not look like any human being that Fanny had ever seen before. His clothes were tattered, and of all colors. Great patches of tent canvas were sewed over a tunic made of red and yellow blankets. He wore Indian leggins, and his head was covered with a coon-skin cap. His hair and beard, of grizzly gray, were tangled and matted in knots and snarls. Crossed on his breast were the straps by which were supported his powder-horn and shot-flask.
"What a strange-looking man!" exclaimed Fanny, when the raft had come near enough to enable her to make out the uncouth object upon it.
"I know him now," replied Ethan, "though I hevn't seen him afore for more 'n a year."
"Who is he?"
"Thet's Rattleshag."
"Who?"
"Rattleshag—leastwise that's the only name anybody knows him by. He's a hunter 'n trapper that goes roamin' round over the peraries."
"Where does he live?"