20 A BOOK-LOVER S HOLIDAYS 



had to do the best we could; and the frequent 

 rains helped us. On most of the hunting days 

 we rode along the rim of the canyon and through 

 the woods, hour after hour, until the dogs grew 

 tired, or their feet sore, so that we deemed it 

 best to turn toward camp ; having either struck 

 no trail or else a trail so old that the hounds 

 could not puzzle it out. I did not have a rifle, 

 wishing the boys to do the shooting. The two 

 elder boys had tossed up for the first shot, 

 Nick winning. In cougar hunting the shot 

 is usually much the least interesting and im 

 portant part of the performance. The credit 

 belongs to the hounds, and to the man who 

 hunts the hounds. Uncle Jim hunted his 

 hounds excellently. He had neither horn nor 

 whip; instead, he threw pebbles, with much 

 accuracy of aim, at any recalcitrant dog 

 and several showed a tendency to hunt deer or 

 coyote. &quot;They think they know best and needn t 

 obey me unless I have a nose-bag full of rocks,&quot; 

 observed Uncle Jim. 



Twice we had lucky days. On the first oc 

 casion we all seven left camp by sunrise with 

 the hounds. We began with an hour s chase 

 after a bobcat, which dodged back and forth 

 over and under the rim rock, and finally es 

 caped along a ledge in the cliff wall. At about 



