"He don't live nowhar; he goes travellin' round, livin' on the white folks and Injins. They say he is the best shot west of the Miss'sip."
"He won't shoot us—will he?"
"No; he won't hurt nothin'."
The raft came up to the shore, and the trapper landed.
"How d'ye do, Rattleshag?" said Ethan.
The strange visitor made no reply, but walked deliberately up to the young exiles, gave his hand first to Ethan, then to Fanny.
"Toler'ble, considering," said he, at last.
"Whar did you kim from?"
"Over thar," he answered, pointing to the settlement, and shaking his head.
"Anybody thar?" asked Ethan, anxiously.