The Last of the Plainsmen 



I tried to call up former favorite views of moun 

 tain and sea, so as to compare them with this ; but the 

 memory pictures refused to come, even with my eyes 

 closed. Then I returned to camp, with unsettled, 

 troubled mind, and was silent, wondering at the 

 strange feeling burning within me. 



Jones talked about our visitor of the night before, 

 and said the trail near where he had slept showed 

 only one cougar track, and that led down into the 

 canon. It had surely been made, he thought, by the 

 beast we had heard. Jones signified his intention of 

 chaining several of the hounds for the next few nights 

 at the head of this trail; so if the cougar came up, 

 they would scent him and let us know. From which 

 it was evident that to chase a lion bound into the 

 canon and one bound out were two different things. 



The day passed lazily, with all of us resting on 

 the warm, fragrant pine-needle beds, or mending a 

 rent in a coat, or working on some camp task impossi 

 ble of commission on exciting days. 



About four o clock, I took my little rifle and 

 walked off through the woods in the direction of the 

 carcass where I had seen the gray wolf. Thinking 

 it best to make a wide detour, co as to face the wind, 

 I circled till I felt the breeze was favorable to my 

 enterprise, and then cautiously approached the hollow 

 where the dead horse lay. Indian fashion, I slipped 



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