Among the High Hills 123 



once or twice I killed a blacktail in the hills behind, 

 not a mile from the ranch house. Several times 

 I killed and brought in prong-bucks, rising before 

 dawn, and riding off on a good horse for an all 

 day's hunt in the rolling prairie country twelve or 

 fifteen miles away. Occasionally I took the wagon 

 and one of the men, driving to some good hunting 

 ground and spending a night or two; usually return- 

 ing with two or three prong-bucks, and once with an 

 elk but this was later in the fall. Not infrequently 

 I went away by myself on horseback for a couple 

 of days, when all the men were on the round-up, 

 and when I wished to hunt thoroughly some coun- 

 try quite a distance from the ranch. I made one 

 such hunt in late August, because I happened to 

 hear that a small bunch of mountain sheep were 

 haunting a tract of very broken ground, with high 

 hills, about fifteen miles away. 



I left the ranch early in the morning, riding my 

 favorite hunting horse, old Manitou. The blanket 

 and oilskin slicker were rolled and strapped behind 

 the saddle; for provisions I carried salt, a small bag 

 of hard tack, and a little tea and sugar, with a metal 

 cup in which to boil my water. The rifle and a score 

 of cartridges in my woven belt completed my out- 

 fit. On my journey I shot two prairie chickens from 

 a covey in the bottom of a brush coulie. 



I rode more than six hours before reaching a good 

 spot to camp. At first my route lay across grassy 



