Hunting in the Cattle Country 



markable as these ; for sheep are, on the 

 whole, the wariest of game. Nevertheless, 

 with all game there is an immense amount 

 of chance in the chase, and it is perhaps not 

 wholly uncharacteristic of a hunter's luck that, 

 after having hunted faithfully in vain and with 

 much hard labor for several days through a 

 good sheep country, we should at last have ob- 

 tained one within sight and earshot of camp. 

 Incidentally I may mention that I have never 

 tasted better mutton, or meat of any kind, than 

 that furnished by this tender yearling. 



In 1894, on the last day I spent at the 

 ranch, and with the last bullet I fired from my 

 rifle, I killed a fine whitetail buck. I left the 

 ranch house early in the afternoon on my 

 favorite pony, Muley, my foreman riding with 

 me. After going a couple of miles, by sheer 

 good luck we stumbled on three whitetail — a 

 buck, a doe and a fawn — in a long winding 

 coulee, with a belt of timber running down its 

 bottom. When we saw the deer, they were 

 trying to sneak off, and immediately my fore- 

 man galloped toward one end of the coulee 

 and started to ride down through it, while I 

 ran Muley to the other end to intercept the 

 deer. They were, of course, quite likely to 



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