42 RANCH LIFE AND THE HUNTING-TRAIL 



land. The grotesque, fantastic outlines of the higher cliffs stand out with 

 startling clearness, while the lower buttes have become formless, mis- 

 shapen masses, and the deep gorges are in black shadow ; in the dark- 

 ness there will be no sound but the rhythmic echo of the hoof-beats of the 

 horses, and the steady, metallic clank of the steel bridle-chains. 



But the fall is the time for riding ; for in the keen, frosty air neither 

 man nor beast will tire, though out from the dawn until the shadows have 

 again waxed long and the daylight has begun to wane, warning all to 

 push straight for home without drawing rein. Then deer-saddles and 

 elk-haunches hang from the trees near the house ; and one can have good 

 sport right on the sand of the river-bed, for we always keep shot-gun or 

 rifle at hand, to be ready for any prairie chickens, or for such of the pass- 

 ing water-fowl as light in the river near us. Occasionally we take a shot 

 at a flock of waders, among which the pretty avocets are the most strik- 

 ing in looks and manners. Prairie fowl are quite plenty all round us, and 

 occasionally small flocks come fairly down into the yard, or perch among 

 the trees near by. At evening they fly down to the river to drink, and as 

 they sit on the sand-bars offer fine marks for the rifles. So do the geese 

 and ducks when they occasionally light on the same places or paddle 

 leisurely down stream in the middle of the river ; but to make much of a 

 bag of these we have to use the heavy No. 10, choke-bore shot-gun, 

 while the little i6-bore fowling-piece is much the handiest for prairie 

 fowl. A good many different kinds of water-fowl pass, ranging in size 

 from a teal duck to a Canada goose, and all of them at times help to eke 

 out our bill of fare. Last fall a white-fronted goose lighted on the river 

 in front of the ranch house, and three of us, armed with miscellaneous 

 weapons, went out after him ; we disabled him, and then after much bad 

 shooting, and more violent running through thick sand and thick under- 

 brush, finally overtook and most foully butchered him. The snow geese 

 and common wild geese are what we usually kill, however. 



Sometimes strings of sandbill cranes fly along the river, their gut- 

 tural clangor being heard very far off. They usually light on a plateau, 

 where sometimes they form rings and go through a series of queer antics, 

 dancing and posturing to each other. They are exceedingly wide-awake 

 birds, and more shy and wary than antelope, so that they are rarely shot ; 

 yet once I succeeded in stalking up to a group in the early morning, and 

 firing into them rather at random, my bullet killed a full-grown female. 

 Its breast, when roasted, proved to be very good eating. 



Sometimes we vary our diet with fish wall-eyed pike, ugly, slimy 

 catfish, and other uncouth finny things, looking very fit denizens of the 



