Coot Jenkins
The prospector is old, bowlegged, got a bushy grey beard, and wears red flannel shirts, jeans, and suspenders. There's a gleam in his eye, though, as if he's seen even more of the world than his advanced age would indicate. He rides a mule, has a gatling shotgun in easy reach, and is often followed by a group of fellas who move a bit stiff and smell strongly of whiskey.