300 FIFTY YEARS A HUNTER AND TRAPPER. 



Frank said he would work along the ridge a little and see if he 

 could not kill a partridge. 



I went on to camp and when dark came I couldn't see nor hear 

 anything of Frank. I ate my supper, and as I could get no word 

 from Frank either by shouting or firing my gun, I climbed to the 

 top of the ridge so I could be heard for a greater distance, but 

 still I could get no answer. It had turned warmer and what little 

 snow was on the ground had melted. I could not follow his trail 

 in the dark, so went back to camp and built a good big fire out- 

 side of the camp in case Frank should come in sight, he might see 

 the light and come in. At intervals of half an hour, I would call 

 as loud as I could. I kept this up until midnight, when I lay 

 down to get a little sleep, knowing that I could not help matters 

 by staying up. 



At daylight the next morning I was on the ridge at the place 

 where I last saw Frank, and by close watch managed to follow his 

 trail while he was in the hardwood timber, where there was a 

 heavy fall of leaves ; but when he struck into the heavy hemlock 

 timber, I could no longer track him. However, I had tracked him 

 sufficiently far enough to see that he had gone back to look for 

 the wounded deer I made tracks in the direction I expected the 

 wounded deer would be likely to lie down. After some searching 

 I found the bed of the deer, also tracks of a man, which I knew 

 to be Frank. But I could only follow the trail a short distance 

 from where he had driven the deer out of its bed. There were 

 plenty of deer tracks all around, but knowing that the wounded 

 deer would naturally work down the draw, I worked my way 

 along the hollow, keeping a close lookout for any signs of the 

 wounded deer that I might chance to cross. At different times, 

 I found a few drops of blood, but no signs of Frank. 



I had worked down the hollow some ways, when I ran onto 

 the wounded deer ; it staggered to its feet, but was too near gone 

 to keep its feet. I finished it by shooting it in its head. I removed 

 the entrails as quickly as I could, bent down a sapling and hung 

 the deer up, and then made tracks down the stream the best I 

 could shouting and occasionally firing off my gun. 



