96 HUNTING SPORTS OF THE WEST. 



As we had traversed the country in a circle, we were 

 not far from our last night's camp. I helped him to it 

 as well as I could, and both heing hungry, we roasted the 

 turkey. But Curly had lost all heart for shooting, and, 

 with the help of a big stick, limped slowly homewards, 

 where he could lay up his leg to nurse. I could not tear 

 myself away so soon, and continued my sport alone. 



As the sky grew cloudy and threatening, I made a 

 tent of my blanket, and collected wood enough to defy 

 any quantity of rain that might fall. When all this was 

 arranged, I went to the tree where I had left my venison 

 and skin, and to give Bearsgrease another feed from the 

 carcase. But I was too late ; the vultures had left noth- 

 ing but the bones, and had torn the skin on the tree, 

 which, however, I was in time to rescue, and hanging it 

 over my shoulders, with the legs safe in my arms, I re- 

 turned to my camp. Having made a good fire, and 

 roasted a slice of meat, the coffee being all gone, and the 

 bread reduced to one small piece, I fed my dog, and lay 

 down to repose. About midnight I was awakened by a 

 formidable thunderstorm. Bearsgrease began to howl 

 dreadfully, and close behind me an oak burst into flames. 

 Flash followed flash, while the thunder was incessant; 

 the whole forest seemed to swim in a lake of fiery brim- 

 stone, the rain poured in torrents, and the little stream 

 swelled to a foaming river. When the storm ceased, 

 silence and darkness took its place, only disturbed by the 

 rustling of the rain falling perpendicularly on the leaves. 

 My blanket protected me well ; I was perfectly dry, and 

 soon fast asleep again. Towards morning it cleared up, 

 and the weather was the most glorious for shooting that 



