140 THE LOG OF A TIMBER CBUISER 



Frazer was rather put out over the incident. 



"You ought to know better than that, Bert," he 

 exclaimed. "I simply can't stand for any killing 

 of game out of season. I've got to fire the first man 

 that does it, no matter who it is." 



"Well, why can't them turkeys keep away an' 

 leave me alone, " grumbled Bert. "I wasn't both- 

 erin' them none when they came right up to the cook 

 tent and started joshing me. I don't suppose if I 

 was to meet one in th' road an' he run up an' bit 

 me I'd have a right to defend myself. " 



Thereafter, though our appetites increased daily 

 and the turkeys were as thick as ever, no one at- 

 tempted to molest them.. 



We were helped out of our predicament by old 

 man Reed, known as the "Hermit of Black Can- 

 yon," who brought us from his ranch, a short half 

 mile away, a welcome supply of potatoes, string 

 beans, cabbage and other vegetables which flourished 

 there. 



He was called a recluse, but his attitude toward 

 us was most un-hermitlike. He came over to camp 

 every evening, his daily offering of eatables in a 

 gunnysack over his shoulder. We were always glad 

 to see him and that not altogether on account of the 

 addition to our stores his arrival meant. Each 

 night he sat and talked with us a while before leav- 

 ing and his graphic stories of early days in the 

 hills, of Indian fighting and adventures with big 

 game, were absorbingly entertaining. 



