“That’ll do,” said Old Pegs, dryly. “Now, Myrtle, gal, will you git us suthing to eat? Ez fur me, I’m pesky hungry. I could eat a hull antelope to my own cheek this hyar blessid minnit. What hav you got fur us?” “I caught some trout awhile ago, and have them ready to broil,” replied Myrtle. “I cannot consent to allow Miss Myrtle to perform such menial service for me,” said Rafe. “Let me do the cooking, for which such hands were never intended.” Myrtle broke into a merry laugh. “You betray yourself, Mr. Norris,” she said. “You are a gentleman born and bred, for none of our own mountaineers would object to my cooking a meal for them.” He looked a little vexed, and she glided away, and Old Pegs sat down on a great rock and signed to his companion to do the same. “Let me go and assist Miss Myrtle,” said Norris. “It really pains me to suffer her to do such work.” “Sit down, stranger,” said Old Pegs, shortly. “I won’t hev any one, I don’t keer who he is, try ter make the gal discontented with her life hyar. She’s the darter of a mount’in man, and ef she ever marries—which I hope she won’t—she’ll be the wife of a mount’in man; thet’s ez good ez swore to.” “I hope you do not doubt me, Mr.—” “Old Pegs! Thet’s my name—Old Pegs. I don’t want no other handle, and I won’t hev it. Ef I knowed you well I wouldn’t keer so much, but yer a stranger, and so we won’t hev any sort of familiarity until I does know you.” “You are particular, sir,” replied Norris, knitting his brows. “It is sad that I did not bring my pedigree with me when I came here.” “Don’t be ridiculous, stranger,” replied Old Pegs, “or we may part company afore you know it. I won’t have no foolishness about hyar ef I know it; no discount on thet ar’.” “I beg your pardon again, but really you are very hard on me. I claim to be a gentleman, and hope I am so. Perhaps that would make me lose your good esteem.” “Oh no; I’ve knowed lots of _gentlemen_ thet was bully boys, and many’s the high old time I’ve had with ’em, right about hyar. But, they _was_ gentlemen, and I _knowed_ it. Now I don’t know any thing about you.” “I hope you will know me better sometime,” replied Rafe, in such a peculiar tone that Old Pegs looked up at him quickly, as if to detect the lurking menace in his face. But that face expressed nothing except polite desire to make friends, and the old hunter dropped his eyes again and whistled. A lumbering tread was heard; the pet bear appeared and came rolling up at that peculiar gait so common to his race, and placing his head upon the ground, turned a sort of summerset, erected himself upon his hind feet, and came forward, extending his paw, which Old Pegs shook heartily. “Glad ter see you, Bruin, my boy,” he said. “Hev ye taken good keer of yer young mistress while I’ve been gone?” The bear nodded in a singularly grotesque manner, and Rafe could not repress a laugh. “You have trained that fellow well, old man,” he said. “I suppose he will obey you in any thing now?”