Hunting in Many Lands 



long, much haunted by ducks. Here we made 

 a bad mistake, driving six or eight miles into 

 the mountains, only to reach nowhere and be 

 forced to retrace our steps. Night, however, 

 found us at El Rayo, the Hansen ranch house, 

 and, as it turned out, the real base of our 

 hunting campaign. The Hansen ranch is an 

 extensive tract, named after an old Swede, who 

 brought a few cattle into the country years 

 ago. The cattle multiplied exceedingly, to the 

 number, indeed, of several thousand, and can 

 be seen at long range by the passer-by. They 

 are very wild and gaunt at present, and will 

 prance off among the rocks at a surprising 

 rate before a man can get within 200 yards of 

 them. Ex-Governor Ryerson now owns these 

 cattle, and his major-domo, Don Manuel Mur- 

 illo, a fine gray-haired veteran, learning that I 

 had known the Governor, gave me much 

 friendly advice, and sent his son to guide us 

 well on the road to the Trinidad Valley and 

 the sheep land. He also provided us with 

 potatoes and fresh meat, so that we lived 

 fatly thenceforth. 



Our track lay past an abandoned saw-mill, 

 built by the International Company. Thence 

 we were to go to Agua Blanca, the last water 



62 



