Hunting at High Altitudes 



make huts, chop firewood, or slice venison and 

 bacon. They use it as a weapon of offense and 

 defense. I saw one woman, both of whose arms 

 had been cut off close to the shoulder, each with 

 a single stroke of this terrible weapon. 



Unless, as seldom happens, the chaparral is 

 drawn blank, the jungle soon resounds with the 

 cheering music of the deep baying hounds, and for 

 a moment the chattering of the many birds that 

 hitherto have kept up an incessant chorus, ceases, 

 to be renewed with increased vigor when the driv- 

 ing commences in earnest. A driven deer is fre- 

 quently located by the birds protesting in no un- 

 certain terms against his advance through the 

 thickets. 



If, instead of a jump, the eager hounds find a 

 cold trail, they work it out slowly, occasionally 

 opening on it the tongue of each individual 

 hound as familiar to the ear as the voice of a 

 friend floating out to the now thoroughly aroused 

 hunters, each of whom seeks a point of vantage. 

 Although one is supposed to stick to the stand 

 selected, still when the deer is up and the hounds 

 are driving hard through the bewildering maze of 

 game paths, the tough little native ponies have 

 plenty of work cut out for them through the efforts 

 made by each rider to be at the place the deer will 



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