i 4 2 A SPORTSMAN'S EDEN. 



half-breed cook had to return again that night 

 to skin the two he-goats I had bagged. As they 

 skinned the last and largest, they had to turn 

 him over on his other side, when, dead though he 

 was he bleated ! Toma was nearly beside him- 

 self with fright, and the half-breed had to finish 

 the skinning, Toma declaring that it was an omen, 

 and portended all manner of grisly terrors in the 

 near future. Poor little Toma ! I hope the storm 

 of misfortune passed you by as scatheless as it 

 passed me, and that by this time you believe that 

 it was only the wind escaping from the dead 

 beast, and not a spirit voice, which you heard. 



That night Toma lay by the fire, for the first 

 time dead beat. My last pair of tennis-shoes 

 were soleless, my last moccasins in shreds, and 

 when I suggested 'Just one day more in the 

 hills,' Toma shook his head, saying, * No ! Indian 

 tired ; Indian can't go any more ; must go home 

 and rest.' Au revoir, Pat. 



Thine, 

 C. P. W. 



