down by the stream to drink and bathe his head in the icy water. As he rested there a buffalo cow, fairly fat, clambered down from a circular mound and made for the river. By luck Lander managed to make a kill.
As a butcher he had much to learn but with the knife he was an artist. In a short time he had lifted the back fat and had the tongue cooking over a fire. He commenced to eat when the meat was but partly cooked.
"You're a devil of a feller!" remarked a voice behind him.
Flopping wildly about he beheld a white man, tanned to the color of an Indian, his hair long and unkempt, his face smothered in whiskers.
"Who might ye be, a comin' out hyar an' skeerin' all th' Injuns up into Canada by yer bold ways?"
"Have some grub. I belong with Jim Bridger's outfit. Strayed away like a fool greenhorn. Who are you?"
"Jim Baker, fresh from Green River. Reckon I'll cut off a leetle more meat an' set it to cookin'."
So this was the man who was indirectly responsible for his keeping aloof from his mates until he
