AND OTHER HUNTING ADVENTURES. 269 



told Westbrook to continue the attack and drive 

 her out. 



He picked up another bowlder as large as a league 

 baseball and hurled it at her, when the dullest and 

 most "thudful" sound I ever heard, accompanied 

 by a faint squawk, came from behind the bank. 



" Well, bleach my bones if I haven't killed her!" 

 said Westbrook, as he threw down his hat and 

 jumped on it. 



Sure enough, he had made a bull's-eye, and a mass 

 of feathers floated off downstream, followed by the 

 mortal remains of the deceased. And now the trout 

 were jumping at these stray feathers, and returning 

 to the siege, we each caught a good one at the lower 

 end of the pool. 



We had now about as many fish as we cared to 

 carry to camp, and started back up river. On our 

 way we met Lieutenant Thompson, of the Third 

 Infantry also a member of our party who had 

 left camp about the same time we did, and we 

 stopped and watched him fish awhile. The lieuten- 

 ant is a veteran fly-fisherman, and it is a pleasure 

 to see him wield his graceful little split bamboo rod, 

 and handle the large vigorous trout found in this 

 stream. I had my camera with me and exposed a 

 plate on him in the act of playing a two-pounder 

 while holding a string of six others in his left hand, 

 and though I did not give it quite enough time, it 

 turned out fairly well. He had also filled his creel, 

 and on our return to camp we hung our total catch, 

 with several others that General Marcy had taken, 

 on a pair of elk horns and got a good negative of 

 the whole outfit. 



