American Big-Game Hunting 



ending with those Hquid flute-notes that make 

 the blood run quickly in the most phlegmatic 

 hunter's veins. A quick glance showed me 

 that I could not approach him any nearer, 

 and putting up my sight, as I thought, high 

 enough, I pressed the trigger, and saw the 

 bullet strike just under his belly. He whirled 

 and made for cover, and out of pure despera- 

 tion I gave him another shot, without result. 

 In a shorter time than I have spent in telling 

 this, the twilight had entirely disappeared, and 

 I wended my way back to camp with only the 

 memory of what I had seen to repay me 

 for the wetting which my hurried crossing 

 of the brook had given me. 



For three days we had climbed mountains, 

 wallowed through mud-holes, and tobogganed 

 down clay banks, hunting for elk which the 

 Indians had frightened away from the Snake 

 River by their noisy mode of hunting. There 

 were four lodges of Bannacks, and they had 

 some eighty horses of various kinds and 

 colors. They said they had spent six weeks 

 there jerking elk-meat for their winter's food. 

 The country which we crossed during these 

 three days was completely checkered with elk 

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