CHAPTER V. 



Lost Where is the Camp ? We tighten our Waistbelts Wet, cold, hungry, 

 and forlorn A Cropper Which River ? A Light The Recall Safe 

 Jerking Meat. 



WE bad not been long at Camp Gibraltar before my 

 comrade and I had a most unpleasant adventure. We 

 lost ourselves. No. We did not lose ourselves. We lost 

 camp. We knew where we were quite well, too well to be 

 altogether comfortable. What we wanted to know was 

 where was our camp ? This was how it happened : We 

 started out after an early breakfast ; and, expecting to 

 return before dinner, took no luncheon with us. Our game 

 was unusually far off that morning. We were also getting 

 quite particular as to what we killed. It had to be a fat 

 cow, a very young and tender bull, or a well-grown calf. 

 No more bull-beef for us, and we had plenty of trophies of 

 the Monarch of the Plains. Each had a splendid cushion 

 to sit upon the hairy scalp from the matted forehead of 

 .an ancient buffalo moccasins made from the skin off their 

 hocks, Indian whips from their tails, and tobacco pouches, 

 while our barrels were full of their tongue, pickling. No, we 

 did not want any more old bulls. So we had had to 



