This question seemed, for some reason, to amuse the hunter greatly, and
he laughed silently for a moment before replying: "His name is, rightly,
'Colonel Carson,' and since he's got command of a fort they've given him
the title of 'General Carson;' but all the old Plainsmen and mountainmen
that's travelled with him since he was your age call him 'Kit Carson,'
or just 'Old Kit.' Perhaps you've heard tell of him?"

Indeed, Glen had heard of the most famous scout the Western Plains ever
produced; and, with the prospect of actually seeing and speaking to him,
he felt amply repaid for his recent trials and sufferings.

Chapter XXXI.

KIT CARSON'S GOLD MINE.

While the hunter was talking to Glen, he was also preparing some slices
of venison for broiling, and lighting a small fire. Anxious to be of
use, as well as to have breakfast as soon as possible, the boy set about
collecting wood for the fire. This, by the hunter's advice, he broke and
split into small pieces, that it might the sooner be reduced to coals;
and, while he was doing this, he told his new friend of his experience
in cooking trout.

"I reckon that was better than eating them raw," said the latter, with
an amused smile, "but if we had some now, I think I could show you a
better way than that to cook them, though we haven't got any fry-pan."

"Perhaps I can catch some," suggested Glen, pulling his rude
fishing-tackle from his pocket, as he looked about for some sort of a
pole. "And I think I could do it quicker if you would lend me your hat
for a few minutes. You see mine got lost while I was coasting down that
mountain-side, or in the lake, I don't know which," he added,
apologetically.

Here the hunter actually laughed aloud. "You don't expect to catch trout
with a hat, do you?" he asked.

"Oh, no, indeed. I only want it to catch grasshoppers with. It's such
slow work catching them, one at a time, with your hands; but, with a hat
as big as yours, I could get a great many very quickly," and the boy
gazed admiringly at the broad-brimmed sombrero worn by the other.

The stranger willingly loaned his hat to Glen, who seemed to amuse him
greatly, and the latter soon had, not only all the grasshoppers he
wanted, but a fine string of fish as well. By this time the fire had
produced a bed of coals, and the slices of venison, spitted on slender
sticks thrust into the ground, so as to be held just above them, were
sending forth most appetizing odors.