eat shootin'," replied the trapper, in an undertone, "by
that 'ar Injun."

The old man looked over to where the strange Indian was standing erect
and majestic, in all the pride of his plumage. There was no appearance
of triumph or swagger about him, as he stood leaning on his rifle, in an
attitude at once calm and dignified.

It was plain, from the way old Rube surveyed him, that he had seen him
before, though not in that camp. After passing his eyes over him from
head to foot, and there resting them a moment, a low murmur escaped his
lips, which ended abruptly in the word "Coco."

"A Coco, do ye think?" inquired the other, with an apparent interest.

"Are 'ee blind, Billee? Don't 'ee see his moccasin?"

"Yes, you're right, but I was in thar nation two years ago. I seed no
such man as that."

"He w'an't there."

"Whar, then?"

"Whur thur's no great show o' redskins. He may shoot well; he did
oncest on a time: plumb centre."

"You knew him, did ye?"

"O-ee-es. Oncest. Putty squaw: hansum gal. Whur do 'ee want me to
go?"

I thought that Garey seemed inclined to carry the conversation further.
There was an evident interest in his manner when the other mentioned the
"squaw." Perhaps he had some tender recollection; but seeing the other
preparing to start off, he pointed to an open glade that stretched
eastward, and simply answered, "Sixty."

"Take care o' my claws, d'yur hear! Them Injuns has made 'em scarce;
this child can't spare another."

The old trapper said this with a flourish of his right hand. I noticed
that the little finger had been chopped off!

"Never fear, old hoss!" was the reply; and at this, the smoky carcase
moved away with a slow and regular pace, that showed he was measuring
the yards.

When he had stepped the sixtieth yard, he faced about, and stood erect,
placing his heels together. He then extended his right arm, raising it
until his hand was on a level with his shoulder, and holding the shell
in his fingers, flat side to the front, shouted back--

"Now, Billee, shoot, and be hanged to yur!"

The shell was slightly concave, the concavity turned to the front. The
thumb and finger reached half round the circumference, so that a part of
the edge was hidden; and the surface turned towards the marksman was not
larger than the dial of a common watch.

This was a fearful sight. It is one not so common among the mountain
men as travellers would have you believe. The feat