78 



IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS. 



opposite directions to utilize the heavy snow in tracking game. 

 We had not gone half a mile before I heard three shots from 

 his rifle in quick succession, followed by a shout of exulta- 

 tion, which I knew meant that he had drawn a prize. I liur- 

 ried in the direction whence the sounds came, and soon found 



HUFFMAN'S PRIZE. 



him leaning complacently on his rifle, gazing admiringly on 

 the prostrate form of a monster bull elk that had fallen a prey 

 to his deadly aim. 



After hastily examining his trophy, and, congratulating 

 him upon his skill and good luck, I turned away down the 

 stream, leaving him and Jack, who had also been attracted to 



