With Gun ? Rod in Canada 



Salt Lake for Christmas. The renegades sleep in the 

 desert. 



Early in 1902 we went to a mine in Route County, 

 Colorado. Deer, elk, and excitement were " plenty." 



One day I was lying in my master's bunk beside the 

 stove. Noticing a queer liquid dripping out of the 

 oven, the cook suddenly remembered the thawing 

 dynamite. Everybody ran. The cabin blew up. I 

 was blown a hundred feet and picked up uninjured. 

 Then we slid down the mountain on skis for assistance, 

 and had to shoot two lean timber wolves en route. It 

 is lucky that I was stoutly built. 



I have helped to kill grizzly and black bear, mountain 

 lion, sheep, and goats. I travelled north to Sitka and 

 south to Chihuahua, and thence east to Nova Scotia. 

 I spent ten days under water. I shot seals along the 

 Nova Scotia coast from a motor-boat. I shot caribou 

 near Moose Factory on Hudson Bay. Then I joined 

 the gold rush into Porcupine. The next four years I 

 was carried from coast to coast in Canada. 



In 1916 I was taken back to Nova Scotia, where, from 

 my master's hunting cabin on Lake Rossignol, I have 

 sallied forth each fall to bring down a fine bull moose. 

 Though my experience has detracted from my appearance, 

 I still shoot straight. 



