TWENTY YEARS IN THE ROCKIES. 77 



salty stuff that I felt that I could drink the river dry, and 

 was determined not to return to camp without a deer, elk 

 or bear; even a coyote (canis latrans) would have been pref- 

 erable to any more of that "sow-belly." My clothes were al- 

 most torn off by thorns and briers ; I was a long way from 

 camp and tired. Worse than all else I had not seen any 

 game, had not fired a single shot. My resolution was fast 

 giving way. 



At last, weary and dejected, I turned to retrace my 

 steps, when the stillness of the evening was broken by a 

 rifle shot. The ball came singing through the air, close to 

 where I stood. I heard the rustling of boughs, the crackling 

 of dead underwood. The next moment a large white-tail 

 doe came bounding into sight, like a cannon ball, trying to 

 break her neck by leaping through the bushes. Waiting un- 

 til she came to an opening, I drew on her and fired. On 

 she went, bounding higher than before. I shot again and 

 stopped her wild flight. The ball took effect in her neck, 

 breaking it. The first ball had passed through her lungs and 

 eventually would have resulted in her death. 



The shooting brought the man who had fired the first 

 shot upon the scene. 



"Well," said he, "I thought I gave her a dead shot. She 

 was running straight from me, and I aimed at her neck. 

 There it is." 



I soon convinced him that a deer could not run a quar- 

 ter of a mile with its neck broken. He laughed and said : 



"I'll go snooks with you on the old lady." 



"That is very generous on your part and I am willing, 

 provided you help carry it to camp," I said. 



We cut out the entrails, cut off the head, tied the feet 

 together, hung the doe upon a pole and started for home. 

 What a load it was! It swung to and fro, nearly jerking 



