148 CKUISINGS IN THE CASCADES 



We stopped at Brooks' stage ranch, on the Colville 

 road to rest the team, and the proprietor gave us an 

 amusing account of some experiments he had been 

 making in shooting buckshot from a muzzle- loading 

 shotgun. He had made some little bags of buck- 

 skin, just large enough to hold twelve No. 2 buck- 

 shot, and after tilling them had sewed up the ends. 

 He shot a few of them at a tree sixty yards away, 

 but they failed to spread and all went into one hole. 

 Then he tried leaving the front end of the bag open, 

 and still they acted as a solid ball; so he had to aban- 

 don the scheme, and loaded the charge loose, as of old. 

 He concluded, however, not to fire this last load at 

 the target, and hung the gun up in its usual place. 

 A few days later he heard the dog barking in the 

 woods a short distance from the house, and supposed 

 it had treed a porcupine. Mr. Brooks' brother, who 

 was visiting at the time, took the gun and went out 

 to kill the game, whatever it might be. On reaching 

 the place, he found a ruffed grouse sitting in a tree, 

 at which he fired. The ranchman said he heard the 

 report, and his brother soon came back, carrying a 

 badly -mutilated bird; he threw it into the kitchen, 

 and put the gun away; then he sat down, looked 

 thoughtful, and kept silent for a long time. Finally 

 he blurted out: 



"Say, Tom; that gun got away from me." 

 ' t How was that V ' queried the ranchman. 

 . " I don't know; but I shot pretty near straight up 

 at the grouse, and somehow the gun slipped off my 

 shoulder and done this." And opening his coat he 

 showed his vest, one side of which was split from 

 top to bottom; lie then took out a handful of his 



