xxiv THE WAPITI 397 



view, as he coursed towards the lower country, where he would be 

 free from his pursuers. The left-hand barrel nailed him. The 

 bullet struck fairly in the centre of the shoulder, he turned a 

 complete somersault, and was stretched dead in his fullest speed. 



This was uncommonly pretty. It was the most dramatic 

 incident I have ever witnessed in a long career of sporting 

 experiences. I had shot three splendid stags, and wounded a 

 fourth, all within a quarter of an hour. This last stag was an 

 unexpected mystery ; we knew nothing about it, neither had we 

 the least idea who the people were who had evidently been firing 

 at it, when the bullets whistled above our heads. In this unin- 

 habited wilderness there was as much chance of meeting a human 

 being as a gorilla or an ourang-outang. Who were those people 

 who had been seen on horseback on the sky-line 1 



The best way of discovering them was to use the glasses, 

 therefore we ascended the saddle-back pass, through which the 

 stag had rushed, and then tried the binoculars. 



We now distinctly counted five white men mounted upon 

 horses ; while several other white men and a large number of pack 

 animals were carefully descending the steep incline to follow those 

 who had already reached the lower ground ; these were hurrying 

 towards the spot where they had heard the two shots I had fired. 

 These people would be as astonished as ourselves at meeting white 

 men when least expected, in the wilderness of the Big Horn range. 

 We now stood upon the ridge, which at their lower level would be 

 the sky-line in their point of view. 



In a few minutes they arrived. Our salutations were quickly 

 exchanged. " Here lies your stag, and I am glad to have stopped 

 it," I said. " It was wounded of course, was it not 1 " demanded 

 one of the party. "Only one bullet has touched it, and that was 

 the last," I answered. 



They all dismounted, and examined the beautiful beast as it 

 lay stretched upon the ground, like a picture. " We shall be 

 thankful for a little venison, as we have tasted nothing but bacon 

 since we left Cheyenne seven days ago," said the first spokesman. 



I now explained to them that the stag before them was the 

 third I had shot within about a quarter of an hour, and that it 

 was by a mere chance they had driven this animal across my path. 

 They were welcome to the horns of this stag and the flesh of all 

 three beasts, if they required them for their party. 



We quickly made acquaintance, and they accompanied me to 

 look at the other two wapiti. I advised them to camp immedi- 

 ately below the hill, as there was good water and fuel upon the 



