ajority of those who were thus anxious to see the
famous guide, were led astray by the descriptions which they had heard
and read, and picked out some powerfully built trader who chanced to
present himself, especially if the man was tastefully dressed in a
hunting shirt, with buck-skin leggins, and whose appearance indicated
ferocity. Of this kind of personages there were quite a number present
at the fort. Usually they would accost the man whom they had thus
selected. Sometimes, if their address was appropriate and the humor
of the person accosted so inclined, they would get put right, but more
frequently they were left to enjoy and cherish their mistake, or were
made the subject of a joke. Among the rest there came along quite a
rough looking individual fresh from the cane-brakes of Arkansas. He,
also, was seeking to place his eyes upon Kit Carson. Accidentally, or
intentionally, it matters not for the story, he was directed to the
place where the _bona fide_ Kit Carson stood. His powerful frame and
determined looks, as he put his inquiries, made those inquired of,
apparently, cautious how they perpetrated a joke upon the Arkansas
man. At last, standing face to face with Kit Carson, he thus
interrogated him. "I say, stranger, are you Kit Carson?" Being
modestly answered in the affirmative, he stood a moment, apparently
quite taken aback at beholding the short, compact and mild-looking
man that stood before him. Evidently his beau ideal of the great
mountaineer did not compare with the man whom he thus faced. This
momentary hesitation resulted in the conviction that he was being
deceived. The conviction, at last, took form in words. Rolling an
immense quid of his beloved Indian weed from one cheek to its brother
he said, "Look 'ere _stranger_, you can't come that over me any how.
You ain't the kind of Kit Carson I am looking for."

This was too much for Kit Carson to hear without treating the person
addressed to his _beau ideal_ of Kit Carson, so suppressing a laugh,
and assuming a very meek expression of countenance, as if he was
afraid to impose upon the Arkansas man, he quietly pointed to a
powerfully built trader, who chanced to be passing near by, dressed
in true prairie style. The Arkansas emigrant followed around after the
trader until, seemingly, he was perfectly satisfied, that he had, at
last, found the famous person of whom he had heard so many wonderful
stories narrated. After gazing at the man for some tim