out regret, I confess) and cautiously 

 tried to acquire a new vocabulary and 

 some new ideas. 



Of course, plenty of women have 

 handled guns and have gone to the 

 Rocky Mountains on hunting trips — 

 but they were not among my friends. 

 However, my imagination was good, 

 and the outfit I got together for my 

 first trip appalled that good man, my 

 husband, while the number of things I 

 had to learn appalled me. 



In fact, the first four months spent 

 * Out West ' were taken up in learning 

 how to ride, how to dress for it, how to 

 shoot, and how to philosophise, each of 

 which lessons is a story in itself But 

 briefly, in order to come to this story, 

 I must have a side talk with the 

 Woman-who-goes-hunting-with-her-hus- 

 band. Those not interested please omit 

 the next chapter. 



