e windward.

Slowly and quietly he laid aside my almost finished breeches and
silently stole away. It was only a few minutes before he returned with a
very solemn face.

"Doggone my corn shucked bones, Le-loo, we've had a visitor but it got
away mighty slick and quick. I hain't determint yit whether it wa' man
er beast er both, er jist a thing wha' might change into 'tother. We'll
hafter investigate later. Here git these duds on."

When I put on my new elk-hide knickerbockers with cuffs of dressed
buckskin laced around my calves, and my beautiful soft buckskin shirt
tucked in at the waist I began to feel like a real Nimrod, but after I
added my "Moo-loch-Capo," the shooting jacket with elk-teeth buttons,
pulled a pair of shank moccasins over my feet and donned a cap made of
lynx skin, I was as happy as a child with its Christmas stocking. It was
a really wonderful suit of clothing; the hair of the elk hide was on the
outside, and not only made the coat and breeches warmer, but helped to
shed the rain. The buttons of the elk-teeth were fastened on with thongs
run through holes in their centers, and my coat could be laced up after
the fashion of a military overcoat. The elk's teeth served as frogs and
loops of rawhide answered for the braid that is used on military coats.

My shank moccasins were made by first making a cut around each of the
hind legs of an elk, at a sufficient distance above the heels to leave
hide enough for boot legs and making another cut far enough below the
heels to make room for one's feet. The fresh skins when peeled off
looked like rude stockings with holes at the toes. The skins were
turned wrong side out, and the open toes closed by bringing the lower
part, or sole, up over the opening and sewing it there after the manner
of a tip to the modern shoe. When this novel foot-gear was dry enough
for the purpose, Big Pete ornamented the legs with quaint colored
designs made with split porcupine quills colored with dyes which Pete
himself had manufactured of roots and barks.

Dressed in my unique and picturesque costume I stood upright while Pete
surveyed me with the pride and satisfaction of one who had done a fine
piece of work. I had now little fear of being called a tenderfoot and
when I viewed my reflection in the spring I felt quite proud of my
appearance.

"Come along now old scout," said Pete viewing me with the pride of an
artist, "come along and let me test you on a real trail. I want