264 Hunting the Grisly 



The point in the hanging which especially 

 tickled my friend's fancy as he lingered over 

 the reminiscence, was one that was rather too 

 ghastly to appeal to our own sense of humor. 

 In the Turk's mind there still rankled the 

 memory of Fowler's very unprofessional con- 

 duct while figuring before him as a criminal. 

 Said Simpson, with a merry twinkle of the 

 eye: "Do you know that Turk, 'he was a right 

 funny fellow too after all. Just as the boys 

 were going to string up Fowler, says he, 'Boys, 

 stop; one moment, gentlemen, Mr. Fowler, 

 good-by,' and he blew a kiss to him!" 



In the cow-country, and elsewhere on the 

 wild borderland between savagery and civ- 

 ilization, men go quite as often by nicknames 

 as by those to which they are lawfully entitled. 

 Half the cowboys and hunters of my acquaint- 

 ance are known by names entirely unconnected 

 with those they inherited or received when 

 they were christened. Occasionally some 

 would-be desperado or make-believe mighty 

 hunter tries to adopt what he deems a title 

 suitable to his prowess; but such an effort is 

 never attempted in really wild places, where 

 it would be greeted with huge derision; for 

 all of these names that are genuine are be- 

 stowed by outsiders, with small regard to the 



