Anyhow, he wos a pheelosopher--a natter-list I think he call his-self--" "A naturalist," suggested Cameron.
"Ay, that wos more like it.

Well, he wos about six feet two in his moccasins, an' as thin as a ramrod, an' as blind as a bat--leastways he had weak eyes an' wore green spectacles.

He had on a gray shootin' coat an' trousers an' vest an' cap, with rid whiskers an' a long nose as rid at the point as the whiskers wos." "Well, this gentleman engaged me an' another hunter to go a trip with him into the prairies, so off we sot one fine day on three hosses, with our blankets at our backs--we wos to depend on the rifle for victuals.

At first I thought the natter-list one o' the cruellest beggars as iver went on two long legs, for he used to go about everywhere pokin' pins through all the beetles an' flies an' creepin' things he could sot eyes on, an' stuck them in a box.

But he told me he comed here a-purpose to git as many o' them as he could; so says I, 'If that's it, I'll fill yer box in no time.' "'Will ye ?' says he, quite pleased like.
"'I will,' says I, an' galloped off to a place as was filled wi' all sorts o' crawlin' things.